Page 49 of The Sandy Page Bookshop

Luke

Summers in Chatham turned slowly like May leaves unfurling on branches, like a tide rising beneath a waxing moon.

At first the turn of season was a slow bloom, and then suddenly you found yourself in the thick of it.

Hydrangeas burst forth along picket fences, the village swarmed with tourists, and the heat drove everyone to the shore.

The frantic onset was no different than the surge of uncertainty Luke felt as August rolled in, and for the life of him he could not get his head straight.

He began rising earlier and taking longer runs on the beach with Scout.

Some days he worked late in his boathouse shop, just to keep his mind and hands busy.

Some days he abandoned whatever project was on his worktable, dragging his kayak down the embankment into Oyster Pond and paddling for hours instead.

No matter how exhausted his limbs, he could not quiet the thoughts in his mind.

Until he reconnected with Holly, Luke was at a point where he’d decided summer would be survivable only as long as he remained single.

And then she came along, like a trinket washing up on the beach.

They began spending his limited free time together.

He found himself enjoying her company. It wasn’t just her easy laugh or playful nature.

Holly made time for him whenever he had it to give.

It was so effortless, in fact, that Luke began to wonder if that might indicate a problem.

While his ego was certainly not suffering the attention, his conscience began to.

What did Holly have to offer him, other than easy company?

It was early, but there was never any conflict.

Not once did he feel pushed or challenged.

Whenever he suggested places to go, she readily agreed.

If he asked what she wanted to do, she deferred to him.

When he asked her where she pictured herself once the summer ended, she shrugged and said she’d figure it out eventually.

While Holly went with the flow, it was something he was finding less and less desirable.

Though he knew better than to compare, he couldn’t help it.

By contrast, Leah was a riptide: strong but unpredictable.

It was easy to get swept along. It was also undeniably alluring.

She’d driven him crazy at times and driven him away at others.

Still, that summer he’d felt a connection that surpassed mere childhood history.

It stayed with him even after she made clear her boundaries, even after he’d given up.

Until the other night at the Squire. When Luke saw Leah propped up against the wall like that, he knew something had changed.

The decision to take her home was the right one, even if he’d paid for it with Holly.

The two had been talking about taking a trip to the Vineyard, but since that night Holly had stopped speaking to him.

Luke wasn’t too worried about that, though.

What worried him was what Leah said on the drive home.

As soon as she clambered into the cab, she’d curled up on the seat beside him.

The whole way home he drove extra slow, so as not to rouse her.

At some point she started rambling, something he’d grown used to, but this time it seemed the alcohol had lifted the mask of her inhibitions.

Leah had wondered aloud if Holly was waiting for him back at the Squire.

She’d asked him if Holly was upset. When he told her Holly would be fine, Leah said that Holly was lucky. Lucky.

It stayed with him all night, after he helped her inside and handed her over to Brad. After the two of them got her upstairs and tucked her into bed. It was with him still, now.

Had Leah Powell had a change of heart? Maybe she was able to finally consider life outside her bookshop.

Maybe that life might involve him. And if it didn’t, maybe he could finally get some answers to the questions that had chased him all summer.

Their conversation was not over; he needed to go see her.

All morning in his workshop Luke struggled to concentrate on the wood pieces he was shaping on the lathe; twice, he almost nicked himself. Before he lost a finger, he turned off the machine and closed up the boathouse. After a quick shower and shave, he called Scout.

“C’mon boy,” he said, holding the truck door open. Scout bounded across the front yard and leaped onto the truck seat, eager for whatever adventure was coming. Luke rubbed his head. “What I’d give for half your optimism.”

There were no parking spots, so Luke parked across the street in the Lighthouse Beach lot. He didn’t care if he got a ticket. Scout at his side, he jogged toward the Sandy Page shop. As soon as they hit the crosswalk, Luke halted.

A sleek blue BMW was parked in front of the Sandy Page, right behind Leah’s car. Right where he usually parked his truck. Two people stood beside it. One was Leah. The other was someone Luke hadn’t seen since her mother’s funeral but recognized straightaway: her old fiancé, Greg.

Scout had seen Leah, too. He pulled at his leash, whining and wagging with excitement. Luke barely noticed. Nor did he notice the cars that kept slowing to let him cross the street. He was too transfixed by the sight of Leah with Greg.

Heart in his throat, Luke waited on the other side of the street. He watched while Leah and Greg talked. He was still watching as Greg pulled her in close and kissed her on the lips.

Scout whined again.

“No,” Luke said firmly, holding Scout back. Luke turned in the direction he’d come from. He had his answer.