Page 73 of The Book of Summer

“You Codman broads and your bikes.” Evan picks it up and launches it into his truck. “Nah. I’m driving.”

“Cliff House is, like, a mile away.”

“It’s getting dark. Plus, now that I know you’re in a delicate condition…”

“Why do I feel like you’re going to use that against me?” Bess asks. “As if I don’t have enough problems. Fine. I’ll permit you to drive me home.”

Bess jumps down and walks around to the passenger’s side of the cab. He starts the truck, which sputters and then groans into life. Bess checks her watch. They’ve been at the jobsite for over an hour, probably closer to two, but Bess isn’t ready to leave. She’s not prepared to drive the mile to Cliff House and greet the problems looming over the bluff. So when Evan turns to her and suggests a bite to eat, Bess is quick to agree. And she is grateful that her old friend can still read her in exactly the right way.

30

Wednesday Night

“So,” Bess says as they pull away from the Sconset Caféand head toward Baxter Road.

They talked all through dinner—short ribs and burgers, nothing fancy—but despite topics worn to the bone and that dang growling engine, things are still too quiet in the cab for Bess.

“Any idea how I can get Cissy out of the house?” she asks. “That’s why I hauled myself out to bother you at work. Am I a typical girl or what?”

“Oh, you’re hardly typical.”

“I went to you for advice about someone else’s problems and ended up blathering about myself.”

Evan smiles, tight-lipped and forlorn. “I’d say Cissy is very much your problem.”

“Well, you’re right about that. See? Who has time for a baby with my mother around?”

Bess gazes out the window, watching several homes pass before she speaks.

“Seriously though,” she says. “What am I going to do? About my mom. It was enough of a battle when we were on the same page. Now Cissy’s my antagonist. I pack up the dishes, she puts them away. I throw perishables in the trash, she digs them out or buys more. It’s infuriating.”

“Just take what matters, and let Cissy deal with the rest. She’ll come to her senses. She always does.”

“That has not been my experience. And ‘take what matters’? That’s Cissy! And we already know that she’s not going anywhere.” Bess laughs and leans into the headrest. “Oh Lord, I’m in trouble.”

“You can grab the book,” he says.

“What book?”

“That guest thingy everyone writes in?”

“Oh, the Book of Summer. Well, yes, that’s a given. In the ranking of stuff that counts in that house, the ‘guest thingy’ is number two, behind Cissy. Though if she keeps acting this way, I might have to reverse the order.”

“I wrote in it, you know,” Evan says.

“You wrote in it?”

Bess sits upright and then eyeballs him while making a snorting-baby-piglet sound that would’ve caused her to blush had she not been so flippin’ tired. Maybe this pregnancy is affecting her after all.

“Yup,” Evan says. “I sure did. The night of your wedding.”

“Okay, that’s a lie. Admittedly I haven’t read all of the entries, but I’ve read all of Ruby’s and certainly every single one written around the time of my wedding.”

“Not all of them.”

They roll up in front of Cliff House.

“Yes,” Bess says. “All of them. Twice, even. Three times.”

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