Page 41 of The Book of Summer

“We did,” Bess answers with a smile.

“‘Door open, one foot on the floor!’” Palmer says in her best dorm-mother voice.

“Yeah, I think you’re the only person who followed that rule.”

“Or youthinkI followed it.” Palmer blows Bess a kiss. “To this day Brooks can’t understand why I have no modesty around the house. Sweetheart, I grew up showering with a hall of girls. Most of them all too willing to catalogue one’s warts.”

Her warts? What could Palmer possibly be self-conscious about? She is a ballerina sculpture, a perfect work of art.

“The one thing I remember,” Bess says, “about coming to Nantucket after Choate was how blithely people ordered pizza. Wait, what? You justpick up the phone and ask for food? Don’t we need to dangle someone from a window by their ankles?”

Palmer laughs.

“Geez, what we did for crappy pizza!” she says. “Remember when you joined the a cappella group?”

“Bad idea.”

“The worst. Because although you have many talents, singing is not one of them.”

“I was awesome at hand bells, though.”

“No one is good at hand bells,” Palmer says, still laughing, as Bess’s belly fills with warmth.

Little Amory bounds in then, curls springing with each step. It’s a wonder she can move at all, engulfed as she is in a frothy nightgown whisking around her like pink frosting.

“Bessie-boo!” Amory squeaks, running toward her. “You’re here!”

“I’m here, Ammy. I’m here.”

Bess clutches the little girl to her chest. As she nuzzles those curls, Bess inhales and feels a definite pull, a sense of yearning from a place unknown.

19

The Book of Summer

Patience Grimsbury

June 10, 1941

Cliff House

Mrs. Young asked me to write in this Book of Summer, which seems peculiar given my station, but she swears it’s made for all.

The summer commenced in its usual way, the women fussing about, andI have to go in and fixnaturally they’re getting everything precisely right! I just fill in where I can! Mrs. Young and Mrs. Young, Jr., and Miss Young-now-Packard, they all have such a knack for making this grand house hum. I’m fortunate they let me be a part of it!

I’m waiting—any day now—for one of the younger set to announce her pregnancy. They are all trying, this I know. I hope this “Grey Ladies” enterprise doesn’t hamper things in the womanly department. There’s only one way to become a mother—focus on the endeavor wholeheartedly. Not that I know a thing about it, in the end.

Whether a baby or two will soon be on its way, I can’t predict. But I do know one thing. This will be a summer for the ages. A summer to remember. I only pray that I can keep the whole thing ticking.

Dutifully,

Patience Grimsbury

20

RUBY

June 1941

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