Summer Beach Reads 5-Book Bundle: Beachcombers, Heat Wave, Moon Shell Beach, Summer House, Summer Breeze (164 page)

“I’m so ready for this.” Morgan put her glass on the table. “I don’t mean the drink, although I’m certainly ready for it, too. I mean a girls’ night out. I had no idea how desperate I was to talk to women my own age.”

“I totally understand,” Natalie agreed. “Although Louise has been by a few times, to see if I need anything.”

“Yes,” Morgan said. “She helped me when we first moved in, too. She’s a very cool lady.”

“She’s beautiful,” Natalie said. “I’d like to paint her.”

“Speaking of work,” Bella said, “Natalie, would you show us what you’re painting?”

Natalie jumped up. “I thought you’d never ask. Bring your drinks, ladies. The more you drink, the better my work looks.”

Natalie led them back into the house and up the stairs to the front bedroom she’d turned into a studio. This week she’d continued
to transform the room into
her
place. Now whenever she entered, she stepped into a stimulating, resplendent cocoon. She’d dragged in long tables from the rest of the house and dug out Aunt Eleanor’s most vibrant shawls, tablecloths, and pots. She’d stacked the shelves along one wall with her big, heavy, glorious art books: Rembrandt, Monet, Pissarro, Wyeth. She’d hung a few of her own favorite paintings, all still lifes, and against one wall she’d set up a still life of a silver bowl with apples.

Bella studied the beginnings of Natalie’s painting on the easel.

“Your work is astonishing,” Bella said.

“Thanks. But I don’t know, I’m not feeling it.” Natalie cast a critical eye at what she’d done. “I think it’s the season. I shouldn’t be using apples. It makes me think of fall. It’s got too heavy a tone. I think I’ll start over with, oh, strawberries, cherries.…”

“These are all yours?” Morgan knelt on the floor, looking through a pile of painted, unframed canvases.

“They are. In New York I worked on abstracts.” She chewed her lips. “But I like other styles, too.”

Morgan had pulled a large canvas from the stack on the floor. “This one is amazing, Natalie.”

“Thanks.” Natalie knew she had to get over the wash of embarrassment that flooded her whenever anyone complimented her. Her art felt so intimate, so personal, and most of all, her inner critic knew that the painting really wasn’t amazing. It was, at best, okay. “Hey, my glass is empty. Back to the deck.”

It was cooling as the sun drifted across the sky, casting shadows, so they carried their drinks and munchies into the house and settled in the living room.

“All right,” Natalie said, “it’s your turn for show-and-tell, Bella. What’s the deal with you and Aaron?”

Bella groaned. “It’s complicated. I met him in December and we’ve been together every moment since. He’s smart, he’s good, and I’m in love with him.”

“Does he love you?” Morgan asked.

Bella nodded.

“Then what’s the difficulty?”

“He wants to move to California. He’s been asked to interview at a San Francisco architectural firm he’s wild to work for.”

“Has he asked you to go with him?” Morgan asked.

“Not yet. But he will. He told me he loves me. I’m sure he’s going to ask me to marry him.”

Natalie was bending over the cheese board, slicing Brie and dabbing it on crackers. She stopped and gawked at Bella. “You love him, he loves you, he’s going to ask you to marry him. And your problem is?”

Bella made a face. “I don’t want to leave this area. I have a new appreciation of it after being away for a few years. Plus, I don’t want to leave my family. I want to watch my sister’s children grow up. When I have my children, I want my family around me. I don’t want to be way out in California.”

Natalie rolled her eyes impatiently. If she ever found a man she loved who loved her back, she’d move anywhere with him.

Morgan was more sympathetic. Softly, she analyzed the situation. “Which is harder? To have a family you don’t love or a family you love too much to leave?”

“Um, there are these things called
airplanes
,” Natalie told Bella. “They take you places, like from here to California.”

Bella rolled her eyes. “I realize that. But what if my children are sick and I need my family to come over and help me fix dinner and rock the baby?”

“Bella.” Natalie spoke in a sensible tone. “You don’t have any children yet. Maybe by the time you do, Aaron will have a job back on the East Coast.”

Bella shook her head. “Aaron wants to be with a big firm building skyscrapers. Skyscrapers near Dragonfly Lake? I don’t think so. What about you, Natalie? You moved here from New York. Do you have a man back in the city waiting for you?”

Natalie tossed back the bit of pink liquid from the bottom of her glass. “Nope. No such luck. Believe me, Bella, I’d love to be in your situation. I haven’t had very good luck with men. I don’t know if I ever will.”

“Well, you
are
kind of scary,” Bella told her.

“Well, hey, Bella.” Natalie laughed. “Have some more daiquiri!”

Morgan snorted.

Bella tried to explain: “All black and sharp points and so serious. You look so
edgy
.”

“Sharp points?” Natalie asked.

“You’re a size zero!” Bella explained.

“Hardly. Size six. And you should talk. You really are a size zero.”

“Ladies.” Morgan held out her hands. “It’s not about size. Look at me. I’m tall, I’m broad-shouldered, and Josh adores me. It’s about meeting the right man, and frankly, Natalie, how can you meet anyone when you’re stuck in your studio all day and night?”

Natalie straightened defiantly. “Maybe I don’t want to meet a man, okay? Maybe I don’t want to get married and have children. Maybe I don’t want to believe a man when he says he loves me, and then he leaves me, and leaves my children, and never sees them again, and doesn’t care if they live or die, and they grow up feeling worthless.”

Bella and Morgan were silent.

After a moment, Morgan tried to lighten the atmosphere. “What did you put in these drinks?”

Natalie waved her hands. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring you all down. It’s jealousy, Bella. Your family is so great. Our father walked out on us when I was one. I haven’t seen him since. Haven’t heard from him. I
did
see how it warped my mother. All she cares about is her bulldogs. Not to mention how it turned my brother into a psychopath.”

“Your brother’s a psychopath?” Bella asked, eyes wide.

“No, of course not. He’s just kind of turned to stone. It does something to you, you know, when you’re a child and your father phones and tells you he’s going to come see you and take you with him for a day or two, and then doesn’t show up or even call with an excuse. Our father used to call Slade—never me, he only was interested in his son—and tell Slade he’d pick him up some afternoon. Slade would get all dressed in his cleanest clothes. He’d comb his hair, even, because Mom wouldn’t do it for him. ‘He’s not going to
come,’ Mom would say. ‘Don’t be a fool, Slade.’ Slade was nine years old. He’d stand out at the end of the driveway, watching for Dad’s car. We lived out in the country, hardly any cars passed, but when they did, I could see Slade rise up on his toes, his neck craning to see the driver. Then the car would go past, and Slade’s shoulders would slump. He’d stand out there until it got completely dark. Our father promised to come for him at least five times, and he never came. Not once.”

“Poor little boy,” Morgan said softly.

“Poor you,” Bella added.

Natalie shook her head impatiently. “We’re okay. I shouldn’t sound so pathetic. Slade is supersmart. Got a full scholarship to B.U., went there for two years, then dropped out to work full-time with an antiques dealer on Newbury Street. He restores furniture—the more valuable, the better the challenge. He makes a decent living and has a new girlfriend every month.”

“How old is he?” Morgan asked.

“Thirty-five.”

“Does he want to get married and have a family?”

Natalie chuckled. “Slade? Slade hasn’t committed to a girl or a woman in his life. He doesn’t have to. He’s drop-dead sexy and couldn’t care less about anyone but himself.” She shuddered. “Enough about him. Bella, tell me about Ben.”

“Well … I guess he’s kind of like Slade.”

Natalie rolled her eyes. “Believe me, no one’s like Slade.”

Bella explained, “I mean, Ben’s in his thirties, he doesn’t have a partner, he’s supersmart, and he’s kind of noncommunicative. He’s obsessed with his work.”

“It’s about fuel. Energy. He told me,” Natalie said. “Josh said Ben’s work is important.”

“You’re right,” Bella agreed. “It’s just that he’s so different from me. And from my older sister, Beatrice, and my younger brother, Brady. We’re all social, like Mom and Dad. We talk all the time, we like people, we’re extroverted. Ben’s so
interior
.”

Natalie thought,
I can understand that; as an artist, I feel that way a lot
. She began, “I can—”

Morgan said it first. “I can understand that. I’m a scientist, too. What I work with is often a life-or-death matter. When I focus on my work, I really dig in.”

“Okay,” Bella argued, “but you’re capable of compartmentalizing your work and also paying attention to other things.”

“Perhaps that’s only because I’m not working now,” Morgan pointed out. “I don’t have anything work-related to demand I use my brain. I do read articles online, when I find the time, but basically my brain’s filled with a speed-demon toddler and a husband who expects me to act like ‘the little woman’ for his boss.”

“Hey, I envy you,” Bella said. “I’d love to have a husband and a toddler.”

“You’re almost there,” Natalie assured her. “You’re in love with Aaron.”

“Oh, and would that be the Aaron who wants to move to California?” Bella’s remark brought them full circle.

Suddenly the roar and sputter of an engine assaulted their ears like a chain saw cutting through the front walls.

“What’s that?” Bella asked.

“Oh God,” Natalie moaned. “Slade’s motorcycle.”

A moment later, the front door opened and heavy, masculine footsteps came toward them down the hall.

“Hey, Natalie. Hello, everyone.” Slade stood there, every adolescent girl’s dream in his tight black jeans and heavy black boots. His glossy black hair, straight as a Cherokee’s, fell to his collar. Slade was tall, thin, and terrifyingly handsome, with a two-day beard of black bristles giving him a pirate’s exotic allure.

Natalie wanted to pound her head on the table. Several times. This
always
happened! Her friends always went gaga over Slade. Right now both Bella and Morgan were recovering from their first jaw-dropped, goggle-eyed reaction, segueing immediately into the female primate mating pose Slade provoked. Their eyes widened, their eyelashes fluttered, their posture changed so that their chests stuck out, and they smiled like a pair of pointy-breasted models from a 1950s calendar, ready to make his dinner and bring him a drink.

Slade kissed Natalie on top of her head and dropped into a chair
across from her, his long legs in the black denim irresistibly attractive. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”

Natalie waved her hand briefly. “Bella, Morgan, this is my brother, Slade. What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you, of course. You’ve invited me several times. What are you drinking?”

Bella answered first, her voice breathy. “Strawberry daiquiris. Would you like one?” She half rose from her chair.

“Thanks, Bella.” Slade could always remember a woman’s name. “I’d prefer a beer if Natalie has any.”

“I’ll get it.” Natalie rose and went into the kitchen.

“Did you come from Boston?” Morgan asked.

“Concord. About an hour out of Boston. Took me just over an hour to get here.”

“How long are you staying?” Bella was almost panting.

Slade shrugged. “Depends on how long Nat will put up with me. The weather’s so great, I just jumped on my bike without any plan at all. I wouldn’t mind staying here for the weekend, doing some hiking, now that it’s getting warm.” He took the beer Natalie offered him. “Thanks, Sis.”

“The weather’s supposed to be great all weekend,” Morgan announced.

“Yes!” Bella agreed, nodding eagerly. “Even warmer than today!”

“Well, then. Do you have room for me for the weekend, Nat?” Slade asked.

“You know there’s always room for you here,” Natalie assured her brother, because, after all, he was her brother, even if he did turn her friends into thirteen-year-olds who thought he was Justin Bieber. Deep in her heart, locked in a box sealed inside a casket tied up with ropes knotted a thousand times, hid the hope that someday Slade would actually feel love from another person and return that love in truth and in fidelity.

Of course, she hoped that for herself, too.

Slade sat on a chair at the end of the group, the beer in his hand. He took his sunglasses off, exposing his indigo-blue eyes with their thick black lashes.

“We’ve just moved in next door,” Morgan gushed. “My husband, Josh, works for the new business, Bio-Green, right on the other side of Amherst.”

Slade said, “Cool.”

Morgan continued, “We’ve got a little boy, Petey. He’s just over a year old.”

“He’s adorable!” Natalie added. “He’s got the fattest thighs!”

“Fat thighs. Nice.” Slade’s voice wasn’t sarcastic; if anything, it was ultrapolite.

Bella’s voice had gone husky. “I live next door. On that side. I think we might have seen you sometimes in the summer? When you and Natalie came to visit your aunt Eleanor?”

“Possible.” He took a swig of beer.

“I should put Petey to bed.” Morgan rose from the sofa.

Slade moved. “Hey. Don’t leave because of me,” he protested. He put his beer on the table. “I’ll take a walk around the lake.”

“No, really,” Morgan insisted. “I’ve got to help Josh.” She turned to Natalie and hugged her. “This was great! We’ll do it at my house next time.”

Bella reluctantly rose. “I should go, too.” She hugged Natalie, waved to Slade, and went out the door.