Family Reunion Nancy Thayer (summer reads .txt) 📖

“I know!” Michelle agreed.

A couple of Michelle’s friends joined them, chatted briefly, then kissed Michelle on both cheeks before leaving. In a kind of dance, people in gorgeous summer clothes approached Michelle, met Ari, and chatted enthusiastically, happily lifting flutes of champagne or gin cocktails from trays and sipping as they talked. The party with its blur of laughter, its display of beautiful people in beautiful clothes, the caviar in deviled eggs, the mini–lobster rolls, the chocolate-dipped strawberries, made Ari feel elated, high, optimistic, thrilled to be in the warm Nantucket air with luxuries all around her. A woman in a beaded dress pulled Michelle back into the crowd. Ari leaned against the railing and looked, not at the water, but at the people gathered on the balcony.

“Hey,” a man said, leaning next to Ari.

Beckett Hathaway wore chinos, a white polo shirt, and a lightweight navy blazer. He had thick blond hair, the wide shoulders of a swimmer, eyes as blue as the ocean, and a magic smile. When Ari’s eyes met his, her heart skipped a beat.

“Hey,” Ari responded, just a little breathlessly. “I’m Ari Paget. Michelle and I were in the same childhood ed classes.”

“Oh, I know who you are,” Beckett said, grinning. “Michelle talks about you a lot.”

Ari laughed. “Michelle talks a lot. Sorry, that sounded mean.”

“Sounded truthful to me. I’ve grown up with her. Both my sisters are champion talkers.”

“And you?” Ari asked.

“I’m more of a listener, I guess,” Beckett said. “That’s probably why I’m a therapist.”

Ari jolted back. “You are a therapist?”

“I just finished a doctorate in behavioral cognitive therapy. I work with the East Coast Mental Health Group in Plymouth. Why are you so surprised?”

“It’s just…I’d never be able to be in therapy with you. I wouldn’t be able to confess my problems.”

“Why not?”

Ari shrugged. “The truth? You’re too handsome.”

Beckett laughed. “I don’t know whether to take that as an insult or a compliment.”

Ari shook her head. “I don’t know, either!”

Beckett twirled an invisible mustache and said in a fake Freudian accent, “Vhy don’t you come to my couch and let me analyze you, my dear?”

Ari laughed. “I’m sure I could use it.” She cocked her head and looked at him. Damn, her hormones were having a party. “But isn’t psychotherapy more or less simply listening to someone talk about their problems?” Even as she said the words, she knew she was being antagonistic. It was a kind of protection, in case he wasn’t caught in the same spell.

Beckett nodded. “That’s certainly part of it.” His look made her knees weak.

“So part of it is having the wisdom to give advice?” She wanted to pull him to her so much that she needed to keep him at arm’s length.

His voice was gentle. “I’d say that part of it is knowing what questions to ask.”

“What are you two doing? You look like you’re talking about physics!” A redhead Ari didn’t know and wasn’t sure she wanted to know swept up to them, surrounding them with the fragrance of perfume and whiskey. “Beck, sweetie, will you be my partner for the doubles tennis at the yacht club tomorrow?”

“Sorry, I can’t—” Beck said.

“You are not!” The redhead stamped her foot. “Beckett Hathaway, you are not working tomorrow. You are on vacation.”

Somehow the redhead had managed to squeeze between Beck and Ari, so it was easy for Ari to lift an eyebrow in what she hoped was an ironic goodbye and slide away, back into the house. She found the table holding trays of cheeses, bowls filled with chopped ice and shrimp, crudités, and chocolates. She found several friends in the crowd. They discussed their plans for the summer. Some, like Ari, were working. Some, like Michelle, were swimming, sailing, playing tennis, and recovering from four years of college or seeing the grandparents before hiking around Europe. As the evening went on, Ari became subdued, smiling and nodding and listening, while wondering all the time why these particular people had so much and the kids at Beach Camp had so little.

She mouthed, “Drink,” held up her glass, and drifted away from the group, heading not for the table set up as a bar but for Michelle, to tell her she had to go, and the party had been wonderful.

Before she could find Michelle, Beck approached her.

He said, “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Oh?” She tried to look as if she didn’t care.

“I’d like to invite you to go sailing with me tomorrow.”

“Sailing.”

“Yes. It’s an activity that involves a boat with sails that zips around on a body of water.” He grinned.

“I thought you were playing tennis,” Ari said, immediately wishing she hadn’t.

“I told Lynn I was working. And I will be until eleven, when I’ll take you sailing.”

“Actually, that would be great,” Ari said. “I haven’t been sailing yet this year.”

“Okay, then. I’ll meet you at eleven-thirty at the club pier. Don’t worry about food. I’ll have our cook make up a picnic basket.”

“How Downton Abbey,” Ari teased.

“I’m trying to impress you,” Beck said, with laughter in his eyes. “How am I doing?”

“I’ll let you know after I see how well you sail.” Ari was proud of herself for being playful with this man, as if she’d managed to keep some wits about her while under his spell.

Driving home, she realized that now she had some news that would make her mother happy, even if only for a moment. She’d call her mother to tell her she had a date with Beckett Hathaway.

Ten

On Sunday morning, after Ari took off to go sailing with Beck Hathaway, Eleanor was taking herself on a health walk around the flowered lanes of ’Sconset. Actually, she was pacing, but she’d decided that if she had to pace, she might as well go outside and entertain the Fitbit her son had given her for Christmas.

The day was beautiful, a clear, hot day with blue skies and a calm sea. Eleanor was thinking about her granddaughter. Ari