Page 96 of Drawing Home
“Em!”
The voice came from somewhere a row or two back in the crowd. She looked around and spotted Sean and Alexis and…Kyle? When she saw him, something inside of her did a little flip. She ignored it. That was not why she’d thought about inviting him along. She’d felt bad about the idea of him spending the holiday alone. Apparently, she hadn’t needed to; she should have guessed that Sean would invite him. The boat people were such a club.
“I texted you an hour ago,” Alexis said, looking relaxed and beachy in an orange sundress and matching flip-flops. “So glad we found you!”
They squeezed in around her. Sean’s dog, Melville, jumped on Penny and licked her face. Penny inched sideways, moving closer to Alexis and away from her mother. Here Emma was, going out of her way to arrange a fun mother-daughter night, and the whole time Penny couldn’t care less.
Kyle moved near her, so near their shoulders touched. She kept her eyes on the sky but was intensely aware of him.
“How’s it going?” he said. She just smiled and nodded. There was enough noise from the fireworks that she didn’t need to make real conversation. Still, she felt his eyes on her when he should have been looking at the sky.
She kept her gaze fixed overhead, even when it all started to feel too bright.
Chapter Forty
The Dockside Bar and Grill was housed in the American Legion building on Bay Street just across from the marina. Bea had reserved an outdoor table, although she had failed to realize she would be subjected to a full view of the fireworks.
“I didn’t expect to get to see the fireworks after all,” Angus said.
“Well, I have to admit, that is an unintended consequence of this location. I’m not a fan of loud noises and bright lights.”
He shook his head. “Try to be positive for a few minutes.”
“I’ll do my best.”
She ordered a bottle of white wine and the Peconic Bay oysters to start, along with steamed artichokes. For her main course she chose the herb-crusted cod with lemon beurre blanc. Angus ordered the pulled-pork dish that was served with cheddar and black beans.
“You realize you found the only unhealthy thing on the entire menu,” Bea said drily.
He nodded. “My wife used to keep me on track with my diet. She passed five years ago, and I’m afraid it’s been a steady slide into bad habits ever since.”
“I’m sorry you lost your wife.”
“It seems to be that time in life. Were you ever married?”
“No, I was not.”
“Well, that’s a shame,” Angus said. “May I ask why not?”
“I suppose I’m married to my work.”
“That sounds lonely.”
Bea shrugged and took a sip of her wine. A child from the table next to theirs ran to the lawn in front of the dining patio. Bea had a view of a large and eclectic assortment of buoys hanging from the shingled siding of a house.
“That’s Billy Joel’s house,” Angus said, following her gaze.
“Is it really? How interesting that he would want to be in the middle of all this. I much prefer privacy.”
“There’s a fine line between privacy and isolation, wouldn’t you say?”
“No,” she said. “I wouldn’t.”
“I think the whole point of being in a town like this is for the community. My family left Brooklyn to spend summers here starting back in the 1940s and they got more than just a house on the beach. We had dirt roads and didn’t even see streetlights go up until the eighties. I don’t remember a single television set. It was all about parties and seafood picnics and us kids running around the private beach, in and out of everyone’s house. I don’t think the houses even had locks on the doors. If they did, they certainly weren’t ever used.”
“It sounds lovely.”
“It was,” he said wistfully. “It really was.”
