Summer People by Elin Hilderbrand Page A

happy and fulfilled life that came to an end three months ago.”
    “I understand,” he said. “You’re not ready.”
    “I may never be ready.”
    “Well, if and when you are …”
    “David …”
    “You don’t have to say anything else. I’m sorry I’m being forward. Is it okay if we see each other again?”
    “See each other, how?”
    “Can I take you to breakfast in the morning?”
    “No.”
    “Lunch?”
    “No.”
    “How about the sunset, then, in Madaket?”
    “I can watch the sun set from here.”
    “Fine,” he said. “Be that way.”
    “You can call me,” Beth said.
    He seemed placated by that, but only for a second. “This house has no phone,” he said.
    “That’s right.”
    “Do you have a cell phone?” he asked.
    “In New York,” Beth said. “I didn’t bring it. I didn’t anticipate having suitors.”
    “So how will I call you?”
    “I guess you won’t. But we’ll bump into each other. It’s a small island, David. Right now, though, you must go.”
    “Well, I’m not leaving without my daughter.”
    “No, I guess you’re not,” Beth said. She felt guilty because she was the mother of the boy. If it were Winnie out there, she’d feel panicked. But before she could wonder too long about where Garrett had taken Piper, she heard voices, and a minute later, the kids ascended the stairs holding hands. Beth smiled. When Beth and David were seventeen, they’d been dating for a year already. They’d had sex already. They’d said “I love you” already and meant it with all their hearts.
    And now here were Garrett and Piper, their children: Beth and David a generation removed. It touched Beth in a way she couldn’t name.
    “We’re going to see each other tomorrow night,” Garrett announced.
    “Fine,” Beth said, as if he’d been asking permission.
    “Can you drop me off here tomorrow night around seven, Dad?” Piper asked her father. “If you say no, I’ll ride my bike. I don’t care if it’s dark.”
    “I’d prefer you not hand me any ultimatums,” David said. “But, yes, I’d be happy to bring you here tomorrow.” He winked at Beth. Victory for him. Then he woke Peyton and directed his girls out to the car.
    Beth and Garrett stood at the screen door until the Ronans pulled away.
    “Piper seems nice,” Beth said. “She’s very pretty.”
    “You told me his wife was coming,” Garrett said.
    Beth closed the front door and turned off the porch light. The house was quiet. That was perhaps the most noticeable difference between Nantucket and New York. The absence of noise. “I thought she was coming. I didn’t realize they had split up.” A little background noise—some cars honking, people yelling or singing or hailing cabs—might disguise the lie in her voice. Here, the lie was naked, exposed. Garrett would hear it.
    “Piper told me her dad considered this to be a date.”
    “David might have considered this a date,” Beth said. “But I didn’t.”
    Garrett looked at her in a way that let her know he could see right through her. She hoped and prayed that Piper didn’t know about her and David. Every man, woman, and child was entitled to a secret and Beth had hers; she didn’t want to fear its disclosure if Garrett and Piper started dating. She grew angry at the unfairness of it—it was
her
past, her secret, her history, years before she met Arch and had these children. It was not mandatory for her to share it—not even with Arch. Her husband and kids did not automatically own everything that happened in her life.
    Beth sighed. This summer was going to be even harder than she’d initially thought. And she could blame nobody but herself.
She’d
invited David for dinner. Disinvited him, then invited him again.
    “What are you and Piper doing tomorrow?” she asked.
    “Don’t know yet.”
    “But you had a good time tonight?”
    Garrett’s stare softened into a smile. He looked at the floor. “Yeah.”
    Beth hugged her son, who was rigid