Page 2 of Our Secret Summer

“I did as you asked.” Raffo nodded at the generously filled wine glasses. “It’s the least I can do after walking in on you like that. Again, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Dylan grabbed the glasses and handed one to Raffo. “Shall we sit on the deck?” Difficult conversations were always made easier by sitting shoulder-to-shoulder overlooking the water.

They sat in two sun-bleached Adirondack chairs. Dylan took a sip of wine, swallowed slowly, then said, “Connor doesn’t know I’m here. He thinks I’m on a silent retreat in a Swiss forest, unreachable by phone or email.” Lying to her son had been more awful than the reason for the lie—her own stupidity. “I can’t tell him the truth yet. I came here to work up to it, to get myself ready.”

“Are you okay?” Raffo fixed her coal-black eyes on Dylan. “Physically, I mean?”

“Physically, I couldn’t be better. Well, for a fifty-nine-year-old woman, at least.” Dylan chuckled despite herself, to lighten the mood. “I did something really stupid and I’ve been so mortified, I haven’t been able to tell Connor about it. I haven’t told anyone. I lost… a lot of money and I came to Big Bear to hide out. I can’t afford a trip to Europe any longer.” Dylan tried to un-hunch her shoulders, but they remained glued to her ears. “I’ll have to sell this place.” She shook her head. “It’s all a big mess.”

“I’m so sorry.” Raffo shot Dylan a gentle smile. “You must feel really bad if you didn’t tell Con. Surely, you know he thinks the absolute world of you.”

Warmth blossomed in Dylan’s chest at Raffo’s words—so Connor did talk about her to his friends?—but it was quickly obliterated by a sharp pang of guilt.

“Thanks for saying that. That’s really kind of you.” Dylan huffed out some air. “I hate to keep a secret from him. It’s horrible to be hiding out here, lying to my son about where I am.” Since she’d arrived in Big Bear two weeks ago, Dylan had picked up her phone to call Connor several times every single day, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Then, as time passed, and the lie she’d told her son had stretched and stretched, it only became harder to come clean.

“He’s going to be such a drama queen when he finds out,” Raffo said so matter-of-factly, it made Dylan burst into an inadvertent chuckle.

“Yeah,” Dylan agreed. “He gets that from me.”

Panic seized her as a thought jumped into Dylan’s head. “He’s not going to show up here, is he? To meet you?”

Raffo shook her head. “He’s in New York with Murray until next week.”

Dylan’s shoulders loosened a fraction. She hadn’t talked to her son in two whole weeks, which was the greatest agony of all.

“He’ll probably call me, though,” Raffo said.

“Oh, fuck.” Dylan couldn’t ask Raffo to lie to her best friend.

“It’s okay. I’ll text him to let him know I’ve arrived safe and well and my cell service is spotty or something like that,” Raffo said.

“Thank you.”

Raffo shuffled in her seat. “I should probably also come up with a reason why I can’t stay here after all.”

“Oh, no, no. You can stay. Really. You’re very welcome here.” Dylan was relieved to have someone to talk to. To get out of her head. To stop spiraling and succumbing to doom scenarios. “If you want to. You probably didn’t come here to spend time with a woman in crisis. I get that. But you should at least stay the night. Let me make you dinner. Sleep on it.” She tilted her head. “Why did you come here, if I may ask?” Dylan rolled her eyes at herself. “I’m sorry. I’m just rambling now. I’m just…” Dylan didn’t continue because she didn’t know what else to say.

“It’s okay. It’s a lot.” Raffo had a very calm, soothing voice. “I’ll stay the night. We’ll see in the morning.” She didn’t elaborate on her reason for coming to Big Bear. She probably wanted to escape LA for a bit. Have some time to herself. That’s why Dylan had bought this place.

“I’ll make up the other room for you and get you some towels.” Dylan pushed herself up.

“You don’t have to do that. Especially if you’re already making me dinner.” Raffo slowly nodded at the chair Dylan had been sitting in. “Just relax. Isn’t that why people come here?”

Raffo had such a quietly commanding quality about her, Dylan sank back into her chair as though someone was pulling her down. She reached for her glass of wine, took a long swig, and gazed into the soothing water of the lake. She’d been doing that since she arrived, but she still felt like the least intelligent person on the planet—a sensation Dylan was decidedly not used to.

CHAPTER 3

Raffo had made her bed and taken a long, hot shower, letting the steaming water wash away the dust from the drive. She headed down the stairs, her stomach rumbling as she followed the delicious smells emanating from the kitchen.

So far, coming to Big Bear had been the opposite of what she’d expected—solitude and all the space she needed to justbe—but life could be funny that way. Like when Mia had suggested they open up their relationship in order to make it more robust, as if the solution to their problems was to invite others into their bed.

Dylan was clearly going through some things—and Connor would have a fit once he found out about this—but she hadn’t seemed too thrown by, firstly, Raffo showing up out of the blue and, secondly, walking in on her asleep and half-naked, all sun-kissed skin and tousled hair.

Dylan was humming along to a Fleetwood Mac song, looking far more relaxed than earlier, her hips swaying slightly to the beat as she stirred something aromatic on the stove.

Raffo caught herself admiring Dylan’s shapely, jeans-clad rear for a tantalizing split second before saying, “I hope you have enough for two of whatever smells so good.” Raffo had planned to get settled and then head into town for some grocery shopping, but this day was not going according to plan at all.

Dylan turned around with a crooked grin on her lips. Her hair caught the light of the evening sun as she moved. Objectively speaking, and for a woman on the cusp of sixty, she was rather stunning. Raffo stopped her train of thought and only managed a strained smile in response. Yet, it was far better than her brain being suffused with images of Mia all the damn time.

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