Page 78 of Summer People
“I was just telling Fisher that you two should come over for dinner. You could even have a sleepover.”
“We’ve got to go,” Fisher grumbles as he slides into the driver’s seat. “Maybe one day next week. I did promise Libby I’d take her out on the water.” He grabs my hand and brings it to his thigh.
I don’t know what the hell he’s doing, but I don’t exactly hate it.
Flora’s gaze cuts to our hands and she winces, though she recovers quickly and smiles with her teeth. “Right. Well, let me know, Sutton. I’ll see you soon.”
Fisher hits the gas, and the truck takes off with a bit of a jump.
“Driving like me now?” I tease.
He side-eyes me, but he’s smiling.
“Please don’t make me sleep over there,” Sutton murmurs from the back seat.
I tense at her words, and my hackles rise at the discomfort in her tone.
As a child, I uttered those words on more than one occasion, yet no one listened. And I had a good reason. The thought makes me sick.
Fisher purses his lips like he’s mulling over what she just said. I’m gearing up to go to battle for Sutton, when he says, “Whatever you want, sweet pea.”
He meets her gaze in the mirror. She gives him a nod, and he returns the gesture. That’s that.
That conversation—that simple moment where he acknowledged her request, respecting her wishes, and didn’t even push her to explain why—has me reeling.
Unbidden, a single tear slides down my cheek. I turn away, focusing on the passing scenery as we go. On the tiny houses, each with its own personality. A blue shutter, a peach rocking chair, red flower boxes.
A warm hand settles on my lap and squeezes.
I can’t look at him or I’ll cry.
I can’t look at him or I’ll tell him how I think he’s healing me this summer. He’s doing it without even knowing it, probably. Because he cares, just like Sutton said.
And god, does that feel good.
“What do you say we stop at the inn for lunch?”
“Yay! Can I see if Lindsey is around?” Sutton asks.
“Course,” Fisher says as he pulls down the drive to the inn.
As soon as the truck is stopped, Sutton hops out and takes off, running right past the two women sitting in rocking chairs on the porch.
I move a bit slower, taking my time unbuckling. Fisher doesn’t move at all.
“Princess…” The softness of his tone, the openness, tugs at my heartstrings, and I can’t help but turn to face him. “We all got demons. I’m not asking you to spill yours, but just know I’m here if you ever want to.”
I duck my chin in acknowledgment and leave it at that. It takes everything in me not to throw myself at him. But if I let myself go back to that place for even a moment, I’m afraid I won’t break free again. I want to stay here. In the present. On this island. With Fisher and Sutton. Here, I’m safe. Here, I’m happy.
I don’t ever want to be anywhere else again.
By the time we approach the long bar top where Wilder’s playing barkeep, Sutton’s already settled with a Shirley Temple, a pack of crayons, and a coloring page. The picture on it is of a lobster and a bird that looks like a penguin.
“Is that a puffin?” I ask.
On the other side of Lindsey, Blue leans forward. “She’s never seen a puffin before?”
Sutton shakes her head. “Weird, right? Almost as ridiculous as these two telling me Libby moved in because she’s afraid of spiders.” She grins back at us and then looks at Wilder. “Uncle Wilder, why don’t you ask Fisher who he’s dating?”
