Page 24 of Seven Summer Weekends

“We are so sorry about your aunt; they told us at the market.”

Of course they did. Smallest town ever.

“Here.” Katie handed her a book. “This one’s my favorite, and the shortest of the bunch—if you want to borrow it. I’m dying that he’s given up writing novels—I’m hoping to find him—you know, for his autograph.”

The other woman, Jessie, came out of the bathroom in a bikini.

“Do I look fat?” she asked her friend.

“You never look fat,” Katie replied.

“Well, I feel fat.”

“Well, you don’t look fat.”

“You know, I think I’d rather look fat than feel fat.”

“Same.”

Addison laughed, and they both turned to look at her, as if they’d forgotten she was there.

She suddenly felt uncomfortable, picturing their review on Airbnb:Nice space except the creepy owner didn’t stay out of it.

She accepted the book and the beach-going inspiration and soon headed there as well, positioning herself far enough away from her weekend guests not to encroach on their privacy or bump into the dreaded neighbor, whom she spotted down the way. She was thankful her friends were visiting the following weekend. Loneliness had been setting in, and she was tired of feeling like an outsider. As if sensing that, her only friendly neighbor, Sally the dog, walked from her owner’s blanket to her own and presented her paw. She took it. Her duplicitous neighbor soon followed, holding two bottles of Amstel Light between his fingers like a barback.

“Peace offering?” he asked, passing her one of the bottles. “I’m really sorry about the other day,” he continued. “I overreacted.”

“I’ll say.” She took the beer, more out of politeness than interest. She didn’t really like beer, and it was hardly cocktail hour. It seemed to go well with her book though, which was a lot sexier than she had expected.

“Enjoying the book?” he asked.

She held it up like a prop.

“My renters lent it to me. They are looking for the author to sign it.”

“I’m sure they are. You liking it?” he asked, again, more forcefully this time.

“It’s all right, so far.”

“Are you always so brutally honest?”

“I’m leading by example.”

“I swear, I didn’t know you were Gicky’s niece.”

Addison raised her eyebrows.

“The book gets better,” he said, changing the subject.

She was surprised he had read it, and she hated how he was standing and she was sitting. She had to block her eyes from the sun and squint up at him. She wanted him to leave.

“Well, beginning with cunnilingus was a bold move,” she offered, hoping to scare him off.

The wordcunnilingusuncharacteristically rolled off her tongue like, well, cunnilingus. She quickly took a sip of the Amstel to hide how truly uncomfortable this encounter was making her. It was cold and refreshing. Did she like beer now?

“It always is,” he retorted.

Now she was blushing.

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