Page 43 of Summer Longing
“Make it quick, Clifford,” Rachel said, rolling her eyes.
“I have my nose to the ground like a bloodhound for you, but nothing solid yet,” he said, linking his arm through Ruth’s. “Do you have any leads?”
Ruth shook her head. “I’m coming to accept the idea that I won’t find something like Shell Haven any time soon.”
“Never say never,” he declared. “The summer rental isalwaysa gateway drug. You’re in love with the house.” Ruth nodded. He squeezed her arm and added, “Maybe we can work on Fern. Money talks, nobody walks. I’ll speak to her.”
“Not tonight you won’t,” Rachel said. “Now, outside, all of you. Before I put you to work.”
The French doors opened onto a porch framed by a flower garden. Beyond that, a lush green lawn with a long picnic table dressed in white linen. To the right, a swimming pool. Rachel’s husband, Luke, and Clifford’s husband, Santiago, were seated at the picnic table along with Amelia and two men and two women whom Ruth didn’t recognize at first. And then she realized shedidrecognize one of them; it was the man from the boat-rental office. Oh, good Lord. Recalling her shark-phobic questions, she was embarrassed.
“Ruth and Olivia, this is Lidia and Manny Barros—you’ve met their son, Marco.”
Lidia Barros looked to be about Ruth’s age, maybe a few years younger. She had thick dark hair threaded with silver, slightly sun-weathered skin, big brown eyes, prominent cheekbones, and a cleft in her chin. Manny, with his wide nose, dark eyes, and olive complexion, reminded her of Pablo Picasso. “And this is Manny’s sister, Bianca.”
Ruth recognized the woman with the distinctive white stripe in her hair; she had been in the tea shop the day Ruth spoke to Fern about Shell Haven. She started to say hello, but the woman narrowed her eyes at her in a decidedly unfriendly way. Odd.
“Last, but certainly not least, Manny’s brother, Tito,” Rachel said.
The man from the boat-rental place shook Ruth’s hand. “We’ve actually met,” he told Rachel. “We just haven’t been formally introduced.”
Barros Boatyard. Ruth hadn’t made the connection that it was Marco’s family. She looked around the table, putting it all together: There were the three siblings, Manny and Tito and Bianca. Manny and his wife, Lidia, were the parents of Marco. Tito and Manny ran the boatyard. The town instantly became more tightly knit to her, and Ruth had the pleasant realization that she was now a small part of it.
Ruth took the seat next to Bianca, and Olivia slid into the one next to Ruth.
“Nice to see you again.” Tito smiled, holding up a wine bottle. “Red or white?”
“White, please,” said Ruth. He poured her a glass.
“How rude, Tito,” said Bianca. “Don’t just reach over me. I’m sure she’s capable of handling a bottle of wine.”
“If you don’t want me to reach over you, then why don’t you switch seats? Isn’t the whole point of these things to talk to new people? I don’t need to listen to you yak all night long.”
“I’m not moving,” Bianca said.
Rachel appeared with the salad and placed it in the center of the table. Amelia excused herself, retreated to the kitchen, and returned with two dishes. “Codfish cakes and roasted sweet peppers,” she announced.
“Avó, sit. I can take care of everything,” Rachel said. Amelia rubbed her hands, and Ruth wondered if she suffered from arthritis. How old was she? It was easy to forget Amelia was up there in years; she was so active and seemed to have boundless energy.
“Let me help you,” Ruth said, following Rachel back into the house.
“Sometimes I wish she’d just take it easy,” Rachel said, peeking into a large pot on the stove. She picked up a plate of cooked shrimp and tossed them into the pot, then added peas, lobster meat, and mushrooms.
“What are you making?”
“Seafood rice.”
“Smells delicious,” Ruth said. “Yes, your grandmother is a dynamo. She’s inspiring.”
Rachel nodded. She pulled a glass baking dish from the drying rack, wiped it down, then greased it with butter. “She’s resilient. She lost her wife, Kelly, three years ago.”
“She mentioned her to me at the mosaic class.”
“Yeah, it was rough. That’s why she teaches the class. Kelly was a great mosaic artist—that’s one of her pieces right there—and I think working in the studio, carrying on the tradition by teaching new people, makes her feel connected to Kelly.” Rachel smiled and handed Ruth a wicker basket filled with warm rolls. “If you can take this outside, that would be great. I’m just going to get this rice into the casserole dish. I’ll meet you out there.”
Ruth held the basket against her midsection as she closed the patio doors behind her. The sun was just starting to set; the sky was streaked a dusty pink and gold. Ruth inhaled deeply, feeling blessed in the moment, having the sense that she was in the exact right place at the exact right time in her life.
When she reached the table, she saw that Tito and Bianca had, in fact, exchanged seats. When she sat next to him, he leaned over and said, “No shark sightings yet this season. Just in case you were wondering.”
