Page 58 of Summer Light on Nantucket

“You have really letBobgo, haven’t you?” Sandy asked.

Blythe brushed sand from her arms. “I have. I think we’re doing all right with the children. It helps them a lot to be able to come here for summer and the holidays. And thank heavens I’m still friends with Celeste. She means so much to me. I think she loves me, too.”

“And what about men?” Sandy asked.

“What about them?” Blythe couldn’t talk about Aaden yet.

“Well, what about Nick? He likes you, Blythe. I can tell.”

“I like him. A lot. It’s kind of terrifying.”

Sandy grinned. “Good. Keep me informed and let me know if I can help.”

They swam again, and finally gathered up their beach bags and went home.

Blythe took a long shower, admired her new tan, and pulled on a loose turquoise caftan. She coiled her hair into a messy twist, fastening it with a claw clip. She settled on the living room sofa. She’d had enough sun for one day. She picked up her book. It was compelling, exciting, but suddenly laughter interrupted her mood. Pipes groaned and water exploded as the outdoor shower was turned on. It was right at the corner of the house, hidden by flowering bushes, and the only way anyone could see who was in the shower would be to go into the kitchen and stand on tiptoes and peer out the window.

Blythe closed her eyes. She could tell by the sounds of the voices and the laughter that two people were in the shower. Miranda and Brooks.

Okay, fine. They were both seventeen, or almost. She trusted them not to have sex in the outdoor shower where anyone could hear them.

My God. Sex in the outdoor shower. Had she and Bob ever had sex there? A person would have to be as supple as an octopus even to tryit.

She checked her watch. It was five-thirty. Time for a little vodka tonic. She put her book down, entered the kitchen, and found a fresh lime. Just as she had it on the cutting board, her phone trilled.

The caller ID showed that it was Hilda Tillingham calling.

“Hello, Hilda, how are you?”

“Hello, Blythe, we are fine, thank you. How is Brooks behaving himself?”

Hilda’s speech was always slightly unusual, but why wouldn’t it be, when the woman spoke at least seven languages.

“Brooks is perfect. We’re enjoying him so much. We—”

“I am glad. Blythe, I have an enormous favor to ask. Max and I need to be at a conference in Zurich and then a trade meeting in Rome.We’ll be away from home for at least another month. Maybe even a few days longer. Our housekeeper, Mrs. Jones, fell and broke her leg. She won’t be able to walk until September at the earliest. So you see, we would have to let Brooks return to an empty home. Do you think it would be possible for him to stay with you for a few more weeks? We can always reserve a hotel room for him so he can remain on the island.”

Blythe didn’t think twice. “Oh, really, we would enjoy having Brooks stay with us. We have plenty of room, and he fits right in with our family.” Why was Blythe so receptive to this idea? It wasn’t simply that Brooks made Miranda happier. Part of it was that it was nice to have another male around. Only yesterday, she’d seen Brooks throwing the Frisbee with Teddy in the backyard.

“You’re so kind. We will send you some money to help pay for his food. He eats like a starved bear.”

“Please don’t send money. We’re fine, really. Maybe Brooks would like some spending money—”

“Brooks has his own money and a charge card. Thank you, Blythe. This is extremely kind. We are very thankful. Give Brooks our love.”

Before Blythe could respond, Hilda Tillingham clicked off.

Well.Blythe’s thoughts went in all directions. Miranda would be thrilled to know Brooks would be here all summer, but Blythe had learned that it was good for her children to have some kind of routine, even if only an hour a week. She would have to sign Brooks up for a sailing program, or maybe tennis. And really, Miranda should get some kind of job.

Blythe forced herself back to the here and now. A lime, sliced and fragrant, lay on the cutting board. Oh, yes, she was going to have an icy vodka tonic.

She was just settled on the back porch when her phone pinged.

A text from Aaden.

Oh, Blythe, how you like to tease me. The photos you’ve sent with you and your children make me long to be with you. I know youwould worry about how your children will fare when you visit Ireland, but remember you could always fly home anytime. I’m dealing with a major crisis at Awen, so I don’t know when I’ll be back to Boston. I really need to see you.

He had attached a photo of himself wearing the high school letter jacket taken years ago, when they were in high school. And another photo taken of Blythe wearing the jacket, which was huge and fell almost to her knees. Aaden was standing by her, his hand on her shoulder. They were both smiling.

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