Page 65 of A Novel Summer
He considered sending it to voicemail, but made the split-second decision to just act normally. “Hey,” he said, looking out at the jetty. It was over a mile, a distance spanned only by walking across slippery boulders. But at the other end, spectacular views and empty beaches rewarded adventurers who made the trek. Today, no one was attempting to traverse the uneven rocks. It was always that way after a storm; after a show of force, water temporarily lost some of its recreational appeal.
“Thanks again for your help,” she said.
“No problem.”
There was a pause. Then she said, “Can I talk to you in person for a few minutes? I’ll meet you wherever.”
The right answer—the rational answer—was to tell her no, he was working. But he was curious about what she might want to say. He hoped it was a second chance at the conversation she’d started on the Fourth of July, when she’d apologized to him. When she acknowledged what they’d once had. He hadn’t been ready to have the conversation that night. Now, he felt differently. Maybe talking to her, really talking to her after all this time, might be exactly what he needed for closure.
“I’m at the West End breakwater,” Justin said. She told him she’d be right over.
It was a fitting place for them to talk. During their summer together, he learned that she’d never walked the full length of the jetty. So he checked the tidal charts (every year, visitors made the mistake of crossing the breakwater only to find a high tide when they wanted to walk back) and picked a day to take her for the adventure. Along the way, she’d delighted at spotting quahogs, and even a starfish between two of the rocks. Terns flew overhead with fish dangling from their beaks. When they reached Wood End lighthouse on the other end of the breakwater, they found a secluded spot and, looking at the pure delight on her flushed face, he impulsively said, “I love you, Shelby.” She told him she loved him, too. Three weeks later, she ended it.
He kept a lookout for her and spotted her walking from the street towards the water, dressed in a gray Ptown sweatshirt and faded jeans, her long hair blowing in the breeze. He walked towards her and they met on the edge of Pilgrim’s Landing Park.
“Hey,” he said. “I don’t have much time...”
“Of course—I get it. I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t important. It’s about Mia.”
She wanted to talk about his sister? He was confused. And disappointed. And in some ways, relieved. The connection between them last night had been in his imagination. Where it should remain.
Shelby faced him, framing her eyes with one hand against the sun even though she was wearing shades. He gestured towards one of the park benches, and they found partial shade. She sat and he remained standing.
“I know why she’s pushing so hard against college,” Shelby said.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. She told me that she can’t read.”
Justin pulled off his sunglasses. He sat down. “Can’t read what?”
Shelby took a breath. “She can’t read long passages and put the information together. She said she always struggled with reading, and at one point your parents knew and they were trying to address it with the school. Nothing worked but Mia pretended it did. She wanted the pressure off of herself and found coping mechanisms and...now she’s at a point of no return, I guess. Or at least, that’s how she feels.”
“Jesus,” he said, leaning back on the bench. “She told you all this?”
“Yeah,” she said. “On the Fourth of July. But I didn’t want to betray her confidence. I tried to convince her to talk to you or your mother. But she refuses, and I don’t feel comfortable telling Carmen myself. It feels, somehow, like less of a betrayal to tell you. Maybe you can talk to Mia about it?”
He tipped his head back and closed his eyes. This explained so much. Still, it wasn’t going to be easy to break the news to his parents. He straightened up.
“I don’t know what to say except...thanks for telling me.”
“You’ll take it from here?” she said.
“Of course.”
Shelby nodded. “Also, I tried calling Mia and can’t reach her; Land’s End isn’t reopening. The Millers are going to sell.”
He shook his head. He was sorry for the town, and he was certain his sister would take the news hard. Mia. What had she been thinking keeping the reading problem to herself?
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “This is a lot to take in.”
She stood. “I know. I’m sorry to drop this on you today, but I’m heading back to New York soon.”
He nodded, trying not to think about what he’d thought—hoped—she’d come to him to talk about. There was no point, now.
Once again, she was leaving.
He held out his hand. “It was good having you around again. Take care, Shelby.”
