Summer's End (Evening Island Book 2)

by Olivia Miles

She opened the fridge, looking for something to eat, and then closed it again. A week had gone by since her last conversation with Bran, and they hadn’t exactly left things off on good terms. Would he be going tonight? Would they talk about her? Would he have the same second thoughts she was having?

  She could check. Go upstairs and turn on her phone and see if he had tried to reach her. But she didn’t know what would be worse right now. Seeing that he had left a message or realizing that he hadn’t. Besides, she couldn’t get a signal in this house if she tried. She’d have to walk around, searching for a connection to the outside world. She’d have to make an effort. And truth be told, she was tired of making an effort for Bran’s family when her own family had so many problems.

  Instead, she plucked an apple from the fruit bowl and walked down the hall to the front door, where her sisters were both occupying most of the wicker furniture—Heather reading a book and Andrea, of course, working.

  “You slept in,” Heather observed, looking up.

  Kim pushed aside a pillow and wedged herself onto the other side of the small wicker sofa. “I guess it was all the wine.”

  In truth, she’d had more than usual. She hadn’t intended it, but it was soon becoming obvious that there were three pairs at the table and she was the odd one out. It was silly to feel like this, she knew. She technically had a fiancé waiting for her back home. She was in a deeper relationship than anyone else at the table, but it didn’t feel that way sitting alone, knowing how she and Bran had left things. And when she saw the way Gemma and Leo had such an easy way about them, talking and laughing, both so relaxed and carefree, well, then she really started to drown her sorrows.

  “Leo’s taking me riding tomorrow if you want to come,” Kim said, but as she suspected, Heather shook her head. She’d been wary of horses ever since they’d rented a carriage one time as teenagers and taken a turn a little too hard and a little too fast, causing them to nearly crash into a lakefront boulder.

  “Gemma and Leo make a cute couple,” Heather observed. They hadn’t had a chance to talk much the night before. Kim had gone straight to bed, and Heather and Billy had remained out on the porch, their murmured conversation filtering through Kim’s open bedroom window, interrupted with bursts of laughter.

  “I could say the same about you and Billy,” Kim said, raising an eyebrow.

  Heather set down her book with a long sigh. “Billy and I are just friends.”

  “Not from what I heard last night,” Kim said. “You forget that we keep the windows open here.”

  But there was no amusement in Heather’s face. “And what did you hear last night? Two friends talking over one last glass of wine?”

  She supposed that was all she’d heard, or at least Heather wasn’t willing to say anymore, and decided to let it drop. Besides, Andrea wasn’t off the hook just yet.

  “Maybe it was Andrea and John,” she said, not bothering to hide her smile.

  Andrea rolled her eyes. “Please.”

  “What? He’s a good-looking guy,” Kim remarked.

  “And you did seem to light up around him,” Heather added, sparking a flush from Andrea’s cheeks. “You seemed to really relax and have a nice time.”

  “I did,” Andrea said, and Kim and Heather exchanged a brief glance. “This break has been good for me. I’ll be refreshed and ready to hit the ground running by a week from Monday.”

  This time it was Kim who rolled her eyes.

  “It’s a warm day. I think I’ll put on my suit and go to the beach for a while. Anyone care to join me?” Kim didn’t hold her breath, but she was relieved when Heather pushed up from her chair and nodded.

  Daring to test her luck, she looked at Andrea, who was staring intently at her screen. “Did you manage to get internet access?”

  Andrea didn’t look up. “It’s just an idea I had for a project I’m working on. But…maybe I will go to the beach for a bit.”

  Kim knew that her expression probably matched the surprise shown in Heather’s face, but she wasn’t about to question Andrea’s sudden change of heart any more than she would find a reason to delay. Her sisters wanted to spend some time together at the lakefront, just like old times.

  Surely this was worth ruffling the Croft feathers a bit. It certainly beat another stuffy dinner, making polite conversation with people she’d never see again, that was for sure.

  They all changed quickly, eager to make the most of the day, and with a canvas beach tote filled with books, magazines, towels, and provisions for lunch, compliments of Heather, trekked across the road to their favorite sandy spot.

  “Do you remember how we used to see who could swim out farther in under a minute?” Kim laughed at the memory. Andrea always won, of course, and not just because she was the eldest. It was because she was the most determined.

  “I should have let you win a few times, Kimmy.” Andrea’s smile was apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

  Kim blinked at her, sensing that her words were referring to more than some summer swim race when they were just kids.

  “I didn’t mind,” she said honestly. “I just liked spending time with you.”

  And she still did. It just didn’t happen often enough. And more and more, it felt like that wasn’t entirely Andrea’s or Heather’s fault. With the Crofts consuming her social circle more and more, she was going to be the one making all the excuses before long.

  Unless…

  She pulled in a breath, not wanting to ruin this day worrying about what would happen when she returned, but it was there, and she couldn’t completely ignore it.

  “It’s hard to believe we’ve been here a week already. And in a week we’ll be leaving again.”

  The women all fell silent as they adjusted themselves on their towels. Kim was expecting Andrea to make an impatient remark, underscoring how much she had to get back to, but instead, she looked oddly pensive.

  “I’d like to think that Mom would be happy to know we all came here,” Kim said. She couldn’t deny the ache in her chest when she thought of how much more she still wanted to ask her mother, how much advice she needed, especially now.

  “Oh, she would be. For sure.” Heather gave her a sad smile. “She loved coming every year with us, even when the trips became shorter. It meant a lot to her that you were planning to join us last year, Andrea.”

  Andrea vigorously applied some sunblock to her shoulders. “It’s difficult to get away from work.”

  Kim wondered if they’d been too harsh on her. “She understood that.”

  Andrea just shrugged. “Dad does, but did Mom? I’m not so sure she understood that side of me. You and Mom were closer,” Andrea said, and even though it hurt Kim to think that her sisters might feel this way, she also knew that it was probably true.

  “Well, you had her for the longest,” Kim pointed out. At first, this had upset her; it had even felt cruel and unfair because Andrea had her job, and Heather had her husband, and Kim hadn’t settled into life, hadn’t figured anything out yet.

  “I know what Sally said hurt the other day.” Heather readjusted her towel. “About how much Mom would have liked to see your wedding. But at least you’ll be wearing her dress. She would have loved that.”

  Kim swallowed hard and stood to dip her toe in the water, until she was wading up to her knees, not wanting to answer that question much less even think about it. She could still remember trying it on, standing in front of the full-length mirror in her mother’s closet, knowing that a piece of her family’s history would be passed down, that maybe, just maybe, she’d be lucky enough to find the kind of love her mother had found.

  Kim’s lips thinned when she thought of how special and rare that marriage had seemed. She’d seen her other friends’ parents—they fought and argued, some had affairs, many divorced. But not the Taylors. And every weekend in the summer when their father would arrive on the island, their mother would flush in the cheeks like a young girl still in the first rush of love.


  She’d thought that kind of bond was special. Now, considering how quickly her father had moved on, she wasn’t sure what it had been. And if she couldn’t believe that her parents had a magical kind of love, how could she ever think that her own relationship would be a happy one?

  17

  Heather

  After a warm shower and a change of clothes, Heather was in her room reading one of Gemma’s books when there was a knock at the door. She dog-eared her paperback and set it down, not exactly minding the interruption. She’d lived alone for so many months now but she hadn’t grown used to the quiet, and she feared she never would. She hadn’t even realized how much she missed the comforting sounds of someone else coexisting under the same roof until she’d come here to this house. A part of her feared just how lonely she’d be come next weekend when she went back.

  To what? To a home that only housed memories and the aching reminder of a lost dream? To the halfhearted job searches, because more and more, her heart wasn’t in anything?

  But that wasn’t exactly true, was it? Her heart was in this place—on the island, in this house full of happy memories and none of the sad ones.

  “Come in!” She watched as the aged brass door handle turned and Andrea poked her head around the door. She had a mischievous gleam in her eye that was typically reserved for Kim. Heather felt her heart skip a beat. She didn’t like surprises. She’d had too many of them in the past couple of years and so far, none of them had been good ones.

  “Billy is downstairs on the porch,” Andrea whispered.

  Heather’s heart began to pound, and her eyes darted to the window, even though her room faced the rear of the house, and even though she’d closed it when she woke up because the morning breeze was making her chilly.

  She and Billy had talked for a good hour after leaving Gemma’s, mostly reminiscing, laughing about fond memories that only seemed to surface in the company of those who had been there and shared the experience. She’d gone back inside with that ache in her chest that she’d always felt after leaving him for the day, or the summer, but this time it was something deeper than lust or longing. This time it was the knowledge that she cared for him, still, and that just like so many other things in life, love wasn’t always enough.

  “Can you tell him I’m in the shower? Or that I must have gone out the back door while you were busy?”

  Andrea frowned and stepped deeper into the room. The bed was made, of course. Heather always kept a tidy house, a proud home, one that she liked to think would have an open door, where her future children could come and go as they pleased, bringing friends over without a prearranged invitation. Now, as Andrea sat on the bed, where Heather slept alone, it seemed silly to even think that she’d have to smooth over that faded blue quilt after Andrea left the room, because what did it matter?

  “Why don’t you want to see Billy? I thought you were friends.” It was clear that Andrea had made a point of using Heather’s description of their relationship.

  There was no irony in her statement, or jest either. She was speaking frankly, and the look in her eyes was one of concern.

  “I can’t explain it,” Heather sighed. In all honesty, she wouldn’t know where to begin. She’d kept so much to herself for so long, hiding each disappointment in the hopes that soon she’d have better news to share and she didn’t want to cloud it, telling herself that she’d get through this rough patch until somehow, she’d ended up here. Hiding from her first love, a man she might even still love. Or could love. In another life.

  “I don’t want to jump back into a relationship,” she finally said. “And spending time with Billy like this, it’s just confusing.”

  Andrea hesitated. “If that’s what you want, I’ll tell him.”

  What Heather wanted was the impossible. To fall in love, get married, stay married, to have the family she’d always thought she’d have. To bring her children back to the island each summer, just like Billy dreamed about doing, too.

  “It’s what I want,” she said firmly. It had to be.

  Andrea nodded, saying nothing more as she stood and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. Heather sat in the quiet room, not moving and almost not even breathing as she strained to catch any murmur of their conversation. There was no way she could hear from this part of the house, though, and it was for the best.

  Just like not spending another day with Billy was for the best.

  She waited until she heard the sounds of Andrea’s footsteps coming up the stairs, and knew that Billy was gone, that she’d sent him away. That she had made a choice and now she would have to live with it. She opened her book and closed it again, finding it impossible to focus on anything right now, other than the image of Billy walking down West End Road, fading from view.

  She fought the urge to stand up, run down the stairs, run after him. He’d smile. She’d smile. She’d feel it all the way to her heart. That rush of hope that she hadn’t dared to think she’d ever feel again. But just like the last time, reality would settle in, and she’d be left hurt and alone.

  No, it was better this way.

  Even if it was disappointing.

  The pull in her chest had returned and Heather knew that sitting around by herself would only make it more glaring. She set Gemma’s book in her tote and headed downstairs. Her sisters were nowhere to be seen, which was probably for the best, because even though Andrea hadn’t pressed, Kim probably would.

  She’d go into town. Check out the galleries, maybe buy herself a pick-me-up, even if it was just ice cream. Maybe she’d be struck by a wave of sudden inspiration and she could get this article written—she was running out of time at this rate. If she ran into Billy, that would be fine. She’d keep it casual, and cut it short. The walk would be good for her, get her out of her thoughts.

  The walk to town was short, and Heather stopped in a gift shop off the main street first, pleased when she saw her dear friend Ellie Morgan’s painting in the window display. She pushed through the door, where a bird was sitting on its perch in a large cage, staring at her with beady eyes.

  “He—”

  A woman about her same age came rushing out from behind the counter, waving both hands, her eyes wide. “Sorry, did you see the sign?”

  Confused, and slightly alarmed, Heather turned from the left to the right. Was this not a shop? Had she barged into a place where she wasn’t welcome? But then she saw it, the laminated sign with big bold letters next to the birdcage.

  “What happens if I say…you know?” she asked, glancing back at the sign, explicitly telling her not to greet the bird as she had intended.

  “Do you really want to know?” The woman’s eyes hooded, and Heather started to laugh. “Is this your first time in here?”

  “I guess so,” Heather said, looking around and trying to find something familiar about the quaint space and the last time she’d been shopping here, with her mother. But that now felt like a very long time ago and so much had changed since then. “But it’s been a while. I saw you have a painting in the window from my friend Ellie.”

  The woman smiled. “You know Ellie? She’s one of my closest friends.”

  No wonder she felt such a kinship to this woman. “I’m Heather Mit—,” she began, and then shook her head, catching her error. She didn’t go by that name anymore, not since the divorce. “Sorry, force of habit. I just…divorced.” She saw the woman’s head tilt with sympathy. “I’m Heather Taylor. Our family has the house next to the Morgans. We grew up playing together every summer.”

  “Heather Taylor!” The girl nodded. “I’m Naomi—Ellie told me all about the Taylors!”

  “Naomi! I remember Ellie mentioning you. My visits in recent years have been so brief.”

  “You have that fantastic playhouse in your backyard. Whenever I stopped by Ellie’s I would admire that thing. It even had curtains on the windows!”

  Heather laughed, but there was no denying the tug in her chest. She’d always loved t
hat playhouse, and been foolish enough to think that someday her kids would too.

  Heather laughed again. “That part might have been my doing. I always liked pretty things.”

  “Then you’ve come to the right place! I’m always finding new things for the shop, not just for the locals but for those of us who live here year-round too.”

  “You live here year-round?”

  Heather was still amazed by the people who braved the cold and isolation during the winter months when the only exit off the island was by a small aircraft. But now, the more she heard that others did it, the more she almost envied that ability to spend her days in her favorite place, where she was always at her best.

  “People always seem fascinated by it, but I have a group of friends here, and my family lives close by, in Blue Harbor, so I’m never lonely. Except when it comes to love.” Naomi sighed.

  A common theme, Heather noticed, thinking of Mandy’s woes the other night, but then not common enough to bother being the focus of her article. Gemma had found love. And Mandy had found someone—even if the feelings weren’t reciprocated. No, it would seem that even here on an island this small, happiness could be found, if you looked hard enough.

  Or maybe, if you were lucky.

  “Not many options on the island other than the seasonal workers,” Naomi continued. Then, she paused and waggled her eyebrows. “However…there is one guy I have my eye on. Well, me and probably half the other year-round single women, and that’s not a lot of us.”

  “The guy from Hackney’s?” There was no denying that Mandy had set her sights on an eligible bachelor and that she wasn’t alone.

  “Oh, no. He’s all Mandy’s,” Naomi said with a brush of her hand. “You must know Mandy?”

  Heather nodded. “Nearly all my life.” She thought about that for a moment. How many people could she say that about? Certainly not about anyone in Chicago, and she’d lost touch with most of her old friends from Grosse Pointe by now.

  But if Naomi wasn’t talking about Mack, then who was she talking about? It could be John, from the inn, but he seemed a little too old for Naomi’s tastes. And that left….