By the time Rachel served the coconut lemon cake she’d baked using Amelia’s dog-eared recipe for bolo de coco e limão, Thomas, Kelly, and Amelia were deep into the wine and on an extensive trip down memory lane.
Rachel and Luke, excluded from the conversation, ate silently, pretending not to steal glances at each other. At least, that’s what she thought was going on. Maybe she was stealing glances at him, and he was looking at her wondering why she was staring at him. It was so hard to know!
Things got more confusing when he helped her clear the table; while she was loading the dishwasher, he said, “It’s really great of you to help Amelia and Kelly. Spending hours in the kitchen probably isn’t what you expected when you came to the beach.”
“It’s better than what I expected,” she said.
He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time.
“Is that true?”
She nodded.
“It’s funny,” he said. “When I told colleagues at the university I was spending the summer in Provincetown, they basically rolled their eyes like I was going on a two-month party bender. But the truth is, life is more real here than anywhere in the real world. Do you know what I mean?”
“Yes,” she breathed. He was so close. She tried not to think about touching him. She knew it was important that she understand what he was saying—that whatever was being communicated to her was more important than any poolside kiss. She just wasn’t completely sure what that thing was yet.
“Trust me, you’ll feel it even more when you leave.”
She didn’t want to think about leaving Provincetown. She didn’t even want to think about leaving that kitchen.
Amelia walked in. “Kelly’s not feeling well. Are you okay finishing up here? I want to get her home.”
“Yes, sure. Is she okay?” Rachel said.
“Nothing a little rest won’t cure.” She put one of the half-finished bottles of wine on the kitchen island. “And maybe a little less of this.” She smiled and kissed Rachel on the cheek. “You’re a huge help. Thank you, dear.”
Rachel and Luke finished up the dishes, Rachel slowing and stalling when it came to the last few pots and pans. Just when there was absolutely no excuse to linger at the house, Luke said, “I could use some air. Want to go for a quick walk?”
She looked into his beautiful blue eyes. She felt no confusion, no nervousness. Deep down, she knew something was happening between them. She was not imagining it, and she was not going to let it slip away this time.
“Sure.”
Amelia sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her hands with an organic lavender moisturizer. One of the small daily annoyances of aging was that her skin was always dry, even in the middle of summer. And in the winter? Forget about it. One year, she had mentioned this in passing to one of their summer regulars, a retired flight attendant who had battled dry skin during long flights, and the woman had given her a tube of her favorite moisturizer as a thank-you at the end of the week. Amelia had been a devotee of the product ever since. It had even inspired an ill-fated attempt at a lavender garden.
“Remember that summer when we tried to grow lavender?” she called out to Kelly, who was in the bathroom. “Maybe we should give it another try? I think Blythe has quite the green thumb. Maybe she can help.”
Kelly, behind the closed bathroom door, began coughing with alarming ferocity.
“What’s going on with you?” Amelia asked when she finally emerged, pressing a tissue to her mouth.
“Sinus infection,” Kelly said, crawling into her side of the bed and closing her eyes. Amelia moved closer to her and rested her head on her pillow.
“We should take a vacation. Travel somewhere this winter.”
“Oh? Why’s that?” Kelly rolled toward her and propped herself up on one elbow, prompting more coughing.
Amelia hesitated. “I’m thinking we should free ourselves of the responsibility of this big house. We won’t be bogged down by the upkeep, by the decision of whether or not to run the inn. We can travel. Who knows what we’ll fall in love with? We’ll feather a new nest—one for this chapter in our lives. I’m seventy-five years old. If not now, when?”
“Nadine got to you,” Kelly said.
Amelia sighed. “I know you don’t understand, but I do feel a responsibility to her. If I couldn’t be the mother she wanted or needed, I can at least help give her some financial security. And ourselves too. Sandra Crowe is offering above and beyond what I would have asked—”
“I can’t tell you what to do with this house. But I think you should know the big picture before you make such a major decision. I won’t be traveling with you this winter. I won’t be feathering a new nest.”
“Well, you don’t have to say it like that. We don’t have to go anywhere. But this house issue is complicated for me—”
“I might not be around this winter,” Kelly said.
Amelia felt her entire body go cold.
“Don’t,” she said, turning away from Kelly, her heart pounding. On some primal, deep level, she knew what was about to be said. And if she could just refuse to hear the words…
“The cancer is back.”
It was dark, and up above, it seemed every star in the universe was visible.
“Just take it slow. Follow my lead,” Luke said.
The rocks formed a mile-long jetty into Cape Cod Bay. Luke walked one step ahead of her, holding out his hand, leading her along the rocks that afforded the most stable footing.
“I would not want to do this drunk,” she said.
“No, you wouldn’t. I have, and it wasn’t pretty.”
The signs warning of sharks and dangerous currents were not comforting. Yes, it was definitely a walk to be made sober, and probably best in daylight. But there she was, following Luke Duncan into shark-infested waters on some questionable rocks.
Luke set a slow but deliberate pace. They made their way in silence, not speaking until he stopped a quarter of the way out.
The wind picked up. Surrounded by lapping waves, under the stars, she felt like they were standing at the edge of the world, exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. She’d grown up at the beach; water was as familiar to her as land. But this felt somehow different. She shivered, and Luke put his arm around her.
What was going on? Should she play it cool? How could she? She had no game—she wouldn’t even try.
He looked up at the sky and sighed. “I wish you were a little older.”
What? That was the stumbling block?
“Older? Why? Kelly met Amelia when she was younger than I am. They have a twenty-year age difference. And look at them!”
“I’m not saying our age difference is empirically wrong. But it does make things more difficult—as I learned the hard way in my last relationship. I’m not a big fan of making the same mistake twice.”
“You dated someone younger, it didn’t work out, and now you’ll never date someone younger again? Sorry, but that sounds a little crazy to me. And as someone older—you should know better.” She shook off his arm.
He laughed. “Touché. You sure Marin’s the only lawyer in the family?”
She didn’t smile back at him. This was not a joke to her. It hurt. She was putting herself out on a limb—or, to be accurate, a jetty.
“I don’t think I can be friends with you,” she said.
“Oh, Rachel.” He put his arm around her again, and despite her feelings of indignation, she couldn’t bring herself to shrug it off. “A month before I moved out here, I was living with my girlfriend, Vanessa. She’s a first-year grad student in ancient history. We were planning to spend July in Greece. I went shopping for a ring. But then Bart confirmed what I’d suspected at Christmas: my father was deteriorating, and I decided I needed to be out here for the summer. Vanessa was upset—she doesn’t like it here very much.”
Rachel felt a stab of irrational jealousy. He’d brought a woman to Provincetown? Had they stood on that very spot, his arm around her? Probably. He had no doubt kissed her, the water rolling gently all around them in the romantic way it was at that very minute.
“So she broke up with you?” The woman must be crazy.
“No, not exactly. But she put me in a position of choosing between her and my dad. I realized I couldn’t marry her.”
Her loss.
“Okay, that sucks—I get it. But I don’t know what that has to do with age.”
“Vanessa isn’t a bad person. She’s just young. She doesn’t understand taking care of someone other than herself.”
“So you’re lumping me in with her? I am helping take care of other people—including your father. In case you hadn’t noticed dinner tonight.”
Who was he to judge her limitations? It felt good to be angry, to push back a little. She wasn’t just begging for whatever crumbs he tossed her way.
“Of course I noticed. It makes it hard for me to stick to my feelings on this. But Rachel, you don’t know who you are yet—what you’re going to do with your life. I’ve answered more questions than you’ve probably begun to ask.”
“I’ve answered questions you’ve never had to ask! That’s why I’m here this summer. Learning about my father is the biggest thing that’s ever happened to me. If that’s not life-changing, I don’t know what is.”
They balanced on the same rock, glaring at each other in the moonlight.
“You’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry. It’s not all on you. I’m still getting over Vanessa. But even under better circumstances, you live in LA. I don’t want a summer fling. That’s not what I need, and I’m guessing it’s not what you need either.”
Actually, a summer fling sounded good to her! But whatever—she wasn’t going to beg. She was too young, he was still hung up on what’s her name in Rhode Island, they lived far away from each other. How many excuses did he need to reject her?
“I get it,” she said. She eyed the distance back to dry land. If she had any dignity, she would turn around and march herself home. But she was a quarter mile out on the jetty.
“Shall we?” he asked, turning around, holding out his arm for the trek back. He looked at her with such friendly affection, she couldn’t offer anything less than a tentative smile. How could she help herself?
She was completely in love with him.