Page 11 of A Novel Summer
Shelby declined, even though the server assured her it didn’t have an orange flavor. She wasn’t in the mood to be adventurous. After the server left, Eve said, “Do you want me to cancel my order? We can get out of here if you want.”
“What? No,” Shelby said, shaking her head. “Sorry. I just don’t know what to do.” She meant what to do about Colleen, but Eve clearly thought she meant the novel, because she said, “Maybe a writer’s retreat would help. I did the Woodstock one—just went off the grid and pounded out a first draft.”
Shelby had to get off the grid; that was for sure. She just wasn’t sure which one: either she stayed in New York City and let down Colleen, or she went to help Colleen and let down her agent.Andherself.
And then it hit her: she was looking at the summer all wrong. What was her biggest excuse—to Colleen, and to herself—for not going to Provincetown? Her deadline. But her new book was once again set in Ptown. Maybe going back would actually give her a creative boost. And she’d help Colleen in the process.
Hunter went to Colleen’s straight from work.
A month ago, Colleen moved in with her boyfriend, Doug MacDougal, leaving behind the apartment above Land’s End where she’d grown up and where she’d returned after college. Colleen and Doug had known for a while that they’d ultimately move in together, but the pregnancy had turned “at some point” into “immediately.”
Doug’s one-bedroom was on the ground floor of a classic Cape cottage on the East End that had been converted into four apartments. The entrance to the unit was on the side of the house. In the back, a pebbled path led to a shared flower garden with a few iron benches. It was lovely. She’d take it over her parents’ sprawling, modernist house anyday.
“It’s open,” Colleen called out when Hunter knocked.
She followed Colleen’s voice to the living room. Colleen was alone in a corner of the sectional couch, her arms around a needlepoint pillow decorated with a starfish made by her mother Annie. She held the pillow like a shield around her midsection.
“Hey,” Hunter said. “Doug still at work?”
Colleen shook her head. “He ran out to get a few things.”
“I hope that doesn’t include dessert.” Hunter had picked up lemon cake from Connie’s Bakery, and placed the box on the coffee table. She sat next to Colleen. “So, a little update: I found out that the new bookstore is opening in a few weeks. I didn’t want to text you because it’s not great news, obviously.”
Colleen reached for her eco-friendly water bottle. “Well, I guess we knew it was coming.”
Hunter appreciated the sanguine response, but she knew how Colleen really felt. When Hunter first told her about the bookstore a weeks ago, she’d burst into tears.
“Really, I almost feel sorry for Hendrik’s,” Hunter said. “Everyone in town loves you—will be loyal to you. And anyone who visits here summer after summer knowsyou’rethe Ptown bookseller. Hendrik’s might have half a dozen locations, but they don’t have you.” She leaned forward and pulled the cake box from the paper bag.
Colleen sighed. “Well, as you can see I’m sitting here so Land’s End doesn’t fully have me right now, either.”
Hunter stopped messing with the bag. “Yeah. I stopped by the store today to talk to you. You feeling okay?”
The door to the apartment opened and closed, and a moment later Doug strolled into the bedroom with two cups of take-out ice cream from Lewis Brothers. Doug was over six feet tall, with light brown hair, kind brown eyes, and the hint of a beer belly. He was like a big teddy bear. “Hey, Hunter,” he said. “Didn’t know you were coming by. I would have brought more.”
“I’m good, thanks,” she said. “I’m just checking on Colleen.”
“I’m fine,” Colleen said unconvincingly before glancing at Doug.
“I’m going to put these in the freezer,” he said.
Hunter watched him walk out of the room, then turned to Colleen.
“Okay, what’s going on?” Hunter said.
Colleen pulled the butterfly clip out of her hair, then clicked it open and closed, open and closed. “I found out I have a complication. My placenta is blocking part of my cervix.”
That sounded bad. But Hunter was embarrassed to admit she had no idea what that meant. She didn’t actually know what a cervix was supposed to do.
“Are the babies okay?”
Colleen nodded. “But I can’t spend much time on my feet, or lift boxes, or basically do anything I have to do at the bookstore. Exertion puts me at higher risk for bleeding.”
Doug walked back in. “I’m calling Liz’s for takeout. You wanna stay, Hunter?”
“Um, sure. Thanks,” she said, distracted. What was going to happen with the bookstore? Mia was a part-timer, but she couldn’t run the place. “So what are you going to do? Can one of your moms help out?”
Colleen pulled a second pillow onto her lap. “No. I haven’t told them. You know how skeptical they are about me taking over in the first place. I can’t give them any more reasons to doubt the plan. So I asked Shelby to manage the store for the summer—her old job.”
