Page 22 of The Summer House
Nine
“I’ve been waitingfor you two to finish… You’re soaking wet!” Olivia said with a grin from the upstairs window, loud music sailing toward them. Her red curls dangled above them, the ringlets naturally perfect since the humidity hadn’t set in yet. Usually, by noon, Olivia had it pinned up in wild, unmanageable strands. She was looking at Callie in that way they had when they could tell what the other was thinking. “Could you come inside? I need your help with something.”
Callie and Luke went up the steps to the porch. Luke reached around her and opened the old screened door, the hinges creaking out their age, the screen punched out at the bottom. When they got to the family room, he stopped. The room itself was nearly perfect structurally—it had a vaulted ceiling with paddle fans and a large window that stretched up part of the back wall, allowing a panoramic view of the sea. The only change she and Olivia wanted to make in this room was to extend the windows and add French doors that opened onto the new porches, and they’d wanted to remove the old built-in shelves that were against the wall, separating it from the kitchen.
In the center of the hardwood floor, Wyatt was building an enormous contraption with gears and other pieces in all the primary colors. He dropped a marble into the top, testing the pathway he was making.
Luke bent over him to view it. “What are you building?” he asked.
“It’s a double pathway shoot. Watch this,” Wyatt said, placing another marble on top. As it rolled, he shifted a lever, changing the direction of the marble.
“That’s cool,” Luke said with a smile that reached his eyes. “May I build something?”
Wyatt’s eyes grew round with excitement. “Sure!”
Luke reached into the box and rummaged around, his gaze darting between the box and the track. He unsnapped a few pieces, redirected the original pathway and put in some gears. “Let’s see if this works. How many marbles do you have?”
“Four.” Wyatt handed them to him.
Luke dropped them onto the track, one after another, the shiny spheres rolling like wildfire until they hit the gears, shooting out in four different directions, all coming out at the end at the same time.
“Whoa!” Wyatt said, impressed. He tipped his head to take a closer look at the new part Luke had put together.
“I have to go help your mom, okay?” Luke said as he stood. He ruffled Wyatt’s hair and followed Callie.
When he smiled at her, she had to take in a breath to steady herself. His ease with children made him even more attractive. She cleared her throat. “He hasn’t met any other kids here yet,” Callie said in a hushed voice as they left the room. “He’ll meet people once school starts, but I hate that he’s alone most of this summer.”
Luke looked thoughtful. Then, as they climbed the stairs, he said, “My nephew is turning eight. He’s having a birthday party at my house. Why don’t you all come?”
“I was only voicing my concern. I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“On a bunch of eight-year-olds? I doubt you’d be imposing,” he said when they’d reached the top of the steps.
As she led him into the room where Olivia was working, Luke’s gaze was on her. It was the kind of look that revealed how his face would rest after laughing or when he’d just been told some good news. It was sincere and sweet.
“I need a little help with measuring,” Olivia said through the pencil in her mouth, the music still blaring. She regarded Callie and Luke before her eyes settled on Callie with a grin. She was up on a stepladder, marking spaces on the ceiling. She had the pencil in her mouth to free her hands to measure the next length but she was just short of the distance to reach. She stopped and took the pencil from her lips. “I need someone tall. Luke, can you stand on that box over there? It should hold you.”
Callie grabbed the wooden crate that had held some of Olivia’s things when they’d first moved in and scooted it across the bare floor toward Luke. This was the room Callie was sleeping in until they’d chosen bedrooms. Her air mattress was pushed against the wall, the blankets still askew from when Luke had woken her up this morning.
There was almost nothing in the room at all—no blinds, no curtains, no furniture except the small dresser she’d found at an antiques shop on the mainland. They’d delivered it the day after she’d bought it. It was a butter cream color, the legs curled outward but the rest of the design quite simple. She imagined the whole room done in yellow and cream with delicate white starfish in lightwood baskets and driftwood artwork on the walls.
Olivia moved the stepladder to a new spot. Luke took the end of the tape measure and stretched it across the ceiling.
“I want to see how many recessed lights we can fit in this room. It’s big and not as bright as I’d like with the main light fixture in the center.”
They’d talked about recessed lighting for all the guest rooms. They were going to put them on dimmer switches so that guests arriving late could have soft ambience to set the mood. The Beachcomber was going to be about relaxation and getting away from the hustle and bustle of regular life. While it wasn’t going to be luxurious and fancy, it was going to be calm and understated—the perfect place to be after a long day at the beach.
“Once I have measurements, maybe we can look at the plans over dinner,” Olivia said, her shoulders rising in excitement. “Luke, would you like to join us?” Before he’d even answered, and despite Callie’s look of warning, she added, “We’ll probably just get a pizza, but you’re welcome to stay.”
“I’d love to,” he said with a wink at Callie.
Callie tried not to think about the distraction he was causing. His little game of cat and mouse was nothing more than that—a game. She was certain. Why else would he be wasting time at her little beach house? There she was getting all fluttery around him and that was probably just what he wanted.
But then her eyes fell on the journal sitting on her dresser. How alone Alice had been in this house, and how much laughter had been here today. Whatever his motives, it had been good.
“Well, we’d better get the rest of that sanding and painting done then,” she said, trying to keep her thoughts from showing.
“Why in theworld did you ask him to dinner?” Callie said, peering out of the window at Luke as he tossed a ball with Wyatt. They’d finished their work for the day and Luke had offered to take Wyatt outside to play, help him catch a few fish, while Callie and Olivia got cleaned up. He’d worn his swimming trunks to the house this morning and he’d taken off his paint-drenched T-shirt. Callie had tried not to focus on his tan skin. Luke threw the ball to Wyatt, a long pass that arced into the air, sailing straight to Wyatt’s arms. When Wyatt caught it, Luke raised his hands in celebration.
