The Perfect Summer (Hubbard's Point)

by Rice, Luanne

  “Couldn't you have asked someone to fix them for you?”

  Bay thought of Sean, of how she had asked him, how he had said, “Sure, I will. As soon as I finish . . .” whatever it was. When she didn't respond, Dan took a step forward and put his arms around her.

  “I would have come,” he said. “If you had ever called me.”

  Then he began to kiss her. He slid his arm behind her back, supporting her as he very slowly lowered her onto the sandy ground. He untied the sweater from around his waist and spread it out; she noticed the way he smoothed it down, and the way he gently eased her till she was lying back upon it.

  Here in the clearing of the crescent moon, she felt his lips so tenderly kissing hers, his rough hands stroking her face, her hair, his face buried in the side of her neck. She tasted his skin, salty and warm with sweat and salt spray from his long row. His hands moved gently, but their surfaces were rough, and she moaned, liking the feel of the friction.

  It all seemed new, in every way, as if it was the very first time for everything: making love outdoors, being touched with such hunger and tenderness, both at once, by the man she had always loved. She wanted to pay attention to every detail, so she would have this moment with her forever: the way the sun struck Danny's hair, and how the leaves threw dappled shadows on the ground, and how his mouth felt so hot on hers, and how engrossed and in love was the look in his eyes.

  But then something happened, and Bay was separated from thought. Her senses took over, and she was taken by the sun, and their skin, by the hard and the wet, the slide of their bodies and the solidity of the ground, the heat in his kiss and the passion in hers, his strong arms holding her and the feeling that although making love to Dan Connolly was brand-new to her, it was also ancient and familiar, and something she had wanted for her whole life.

  When it was over, they lay still in each other's arms, far from words. The sun moved above the branches, writing time on the sandy ground. Bay must have dozed, because she woke with a start, with Dan holding her.

  “I'm right here,” he whispered, and Bay opened her eyes and knew that his words were true and always would be.

  “So am I,” she said.

  After a winter longer than this last season, than the last few months—years of winter, of feelings being frozen and buried inside herself—Bay felt the summer inside her skin.

  Summer meant the garden. It meant roses, hollyhocks, larkspur, geraniums. It meant birds. It meant long days and starry nights. Summer was hot sand and blue water. It was the season of pleasure, of holding on to every joy and blessing for as long as possible, before letting it go, to welcome the next and the next.

  They pulled each other up, brushing off sand and dry grass, feeling like teenagers, only better—teenagers were too young to know how swiftly moved the current, how powerful was the tide. When you found something worth keeping, you picked it up—because you never knew when the sea might rise and wash it away.

  Dan pulled the driftwood moon from the sand, dusted it off, tucked it under his arm—to make it new again, she knew. To hang it in the sky for her. His movements were slow, the aftermath of their lovemaking, and when Bay took his hand, she felt it trembling. Or perhaps hers was. She wanted to tell him what she was thinking—that she loved him. That she always had.

  But instead, she just looked up into his face, squinting in the bright sunlight, and felt grateful that he had come back. That after all this time her first love was here again. It was spring now, with all of summer still to come. There would be time to find the right words.

  So they walked back through the path, past the turnoff to the Indian Grave and the one to Little Beach, back down the hill to the main beach, and along the sandy road to Bay's house.

  The children had returned from playing mini golf. Tara and Joe sat on the porch, swinging back and forth on the glider. Billy and Pegeen were having a catch in the side yard, the thwack of the baseball hitting their gloves hard and rhythmic.

  “Dad, I didn't know you were coming over!” Eliza called.

  “Yep, I did. I had to.”

  At his words, Bay blushed, but didn't react.

  “It's a really pretty boat,” Annie said. “Did you make it?”

  “I did,” Dan said.

  “My father builds the best boats around,” Eliza said.

  “It reminds me of the boat I made for Daddy,” Annie said. “My little green dory. The one where he hid the shell . . . and the letter.”

  “The letter that saved my life,” Eliza said.

  “I know,” Dan said. He reached into the boat and pulled out the oars—they were brightly varnished, gleaming in the sun. “It's supposed to remind you of that boat.”

  “Why?” Annie asked, frowning, still not understanding.

  “Because it's for you, Annie,” Dan said.

  “Me?”

  “Your father wanted you to have it.”

  Bay held back tears as she watched her daughter's face. Annie's eyes widened with shock, then a dawning realization. “But I thought—” she said.

  “Yes. I think your mom told you that he came to see me last summer, to talk to me about building you a boat just like your dory.”

  “I know,” she whispered, her eyes flooding. “Mom told me. But I thought he died before that could happen.”

  “No,” Dan said. “He told me exactly what he wanted. He brought me the model you'd made, to show me. He was very proud of it . . . and you, Annie.”

  “He said that?” Annie asked.

  Danny nodded, handing her the oars. “We talked about you a lot. He said you're wonderful and talented, and he wanted to make sure the boat I'd build you could live up to the model you'd made for him.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Connolly,” Annie said, crying for a minute, hugging the oars to her chest.

  “Can you take me for a row?” Eliza asked after a moment, bumping Annie gently on the arm.

  Annie looked at her mother, to ask if it was okay. Bay still couldn't quite speak, but she also couldn't quite stop smiling. She nodded, and holding the bow steady on the sand, Danny helped the girls climb in.

  Bay watched Annie, thinking of how brave people had to be, to accept the wonder of life—the gift of a new boat, the chance to be with friends on the water and forget the fears that had held them down before, the kiss of the sun, the fact that no one, not even your own father, was perfect, but knowing, somehow, that love was integral to it all, inherent in every moment.

  And so, Bay took a step forward, into the clear water of the shallow cove, and helped Dan give the boat a gentle push. It floated like a stick on the current, hovering still for a moment, and then Annie got the oars settled into the oarlocks.

  She dipped one oar into the water, and then the other. The dory weaved back and forth, with both girls laughing, with Tara and Joe calling encouragement from the porch, with Peggy and Billy looking on and razzing their big sister. Bay took Danny's hand; if the kids saw, that was okay with her.

  Suddenly Annie got the rhythm, dipping both oars at once, pulling the handles into her chest . . . The boat began to move in a straight line, the water behind rippling in a V. And as she did, Bay could see that Dan had painted the boat's name on the transom—the same name Annie had put on her model boat, to remind her father who he should row home to:

  ANNIE

  “I'm doing it,” she called. “I've got it!”

  “You do, Annie,” Bay called out. “You do.”

  “Faugh a ballagh,” Tara shouted the sisterhood's battle cry from the porch: Clear the way . . .

  Dan squeezed Bay's hand, and once again it was all she could do to keep from saying the words out loud: I love you. They were right there, in the air. They were shimmering like quince blossoms on a branch, like morning glories on a vine, just waiting to be picked for a beautiful bouquet.

  But Bay McCabe was a gardener, and a mother, and a woman in love, and this year she had learned that there was a season for everything. Every single thing. Ther
e was time, plenty of time.

  They had the whole summer ahead of them, and like that sweet season so many years ago, it was going to be perfect.

  About the Author

  LUANNE RICE is the author of The Perfect Summer, The Secret Hour, True Blue, Summer Light, Safe Harbor, Firefly Beach, Dream Country, Follow the Stars Home—a Hallmark Hall of Fame feature—Cloud Nine, Home Fires, Secrets of Paris, Stone Heart, Angels All Over Town, Crazy In Love (made into a TNT Network feature film), and Blue Moon (made into a CBS television film). She lives in New York City and Old Lyme, Connecticut.

  also by Luanne Rice

  THE SECRET HOUR

  TRUE BLUE

  SAFE HARBOR

  SUMMER LIGHT

  FIREFLY BEACH

  DREAM COUNTRY

  FOLLOW THE STARS HOME

  CLOUD NINE

  HOME FIRES

  BLUE MOON

  SECRETS OF PARIS

  STONE HEART

  CRAZY IN LOVE

  ANGELS ALL OVER TOWN

  Praise for

  the transcendent novels of

  LUANNE RICE

  THE SECRET HOUR

  “Familiar Rice themes of sisterhood, loss and the healing power of love are spotlighted, but Rice's interest in the human psyche has its dark side as well . . . the shore scenes, including a cinematic climax . . . [are] among the novel's strongest. Rice's heartfelt personal tone and the novel's cunningly deranged villain make this a smooth-flowing and fast-paced effort, with justice served all around at the satisfying . . . conclusion.” —Publishers Weekly

  “Rice's lyrical style humanizes the dilemma of justice by the book versus justice for victims.” —Booklist

  “Luanne Rice is one of the most mesmerizing storytellers. Her books are always deeply emotional, [with] wonderful characters.” —Daily American, Somerset, PA

  “A beautiful book . . . the reader is drawn in from the first word. It's a tense, driven, sometimes harsh and sometimes very gentle love story.” —Old Book Barn Gazette

  “Salt-of-the-earth characters form the life-breathing force in this emotionally charged novel. . . . Suspenseful . . . Possibly Rice's best work to date.” —Romantic Times

  TRUE BLUE

  “With its graceful prose, full-bodied characters and atmospheric setting, this uplifting and enchanting tale is likely to become a beachside staple.” —Publishers Weekly

  “Rice, as always, provides her readers with a delightful love story filled with the subtle nuances of the human heart.” —Booklist

  SAFE HARBOR

  “Luanne Rice has a talent for navigating the emotions that range through familial bonds, from love and respect to anger. . . . A beautiful blend of love and humor, with a little bit of magic thrown in, Safe Harbor is Rice's best work to date.”

  —The Denver Post

  “Irresistible . . . fast-paced . . . moving . . . Through Rice's vivid storytelling, readers can almost smell the sea air. Rice has a gift for creating realistic characters and the pages fly by as those characters explore the bonds of family while unraveling the mystery.” —The Orlando Sentinel

  “Heartwarming and convincing . . . a meditation on the importance of family ties . . . buoyed by Rice's evocative prose and her ability to craft intelligent, three-dimensional characters.” —Publishers Weekly

  “Luanne Rice's exploration of the difficult emotional balance between professional success, personal fulfillment, and family ties is pure gold. Evocative descriptions add interest to an already compelling tale. Equal parts romance, mystery, and character study . . . Readers beware: don't start this book at bedtime; you may not sleep at all!”

  —Library Journal

  “A story for romantics who have never forgotten their first love.” —The State, Columbia, SC

  FIREFLY BEACH

  “A beautifully textured summertime read.” —Publishers Weekly (starred review) “Rice does a masterful job of telling this powerful story of love and reconciliation.” —Booklist

  SUMMER LIGHT

  “Few . . . authors are able to portray the complex and contradictory emotions that bind family members as effortlessly as Rice. . . . This poignant tale of love, loss, and reconciliation will have readers hitting the bookstores.” —Publishers Weekly

  “Rice's fans will enjoy this well-spun yarn.”

  —The Orlando Sentinel

  “The prolific Rice skillfully blends romance with magic.” —Booklist

  DREAM COUNTRY

  “A moving story of love and reunion . . . an absolute joy to read . . . I finally put Dream Country down at two A.M. and almost called in sick the next day to finish it.”

  —The Denver Post

  “Superb . . . stunning.” —Houston Chronicle

  “Captivating . . . Dream Country will cast a spell on readers.” —The Orlando Sentinel

  “A transcendent story about the power of hope and family love . . . a compelling plot and nuanced character portrayals contribute to the emotional impact. . . . Rice creates believable dramatic tension.” —Publishers Weekly

  “Engaging . . . a taut thriller . . . Rice's descriptive gifts are impressive.” —Minneapolis Star-Tribune

  “A story so real it will be deeply etched into the hearts of its readers . . . Rice once again delivers a wonderfully complex and full-bodied romance.” —Booklist

  “Highly readable . . . moving . . . a well-paced plot . . . Rice pulls off some clever surprises.” —Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

  FOLLOW THE STARS HOME

  “Addictive . . . irresistible.” —People

  “Involving, moving . . . stays with the reader long after the last page is turned.” —The Denver Post

  “Uplifting . . . The novel's theme—love's miraculous ability to heal—has the ingredients to warm readers' hearts.” —Publishers Weekly

  “Rice has once again created a tender story of a new family unit, where love and loyalty are more important than biology and where learning to trust again opens the door to happiness.” —Library Journal

  “A moving romance that also illuminates the tangled resentments, ties and allegiances of family life . . . Rice spins a web of three families intertwined by affection and conflict. . . . [She] is a gifted storyteller with a keen sense of both the possibilities and contingencies of life.”

  —Times Record, Brunswick, ME

  “Powerhouse author Luanne Rice returns with a novel guaranteed to wrench your emotional heartstrings. Deeply moving and rich with emotion, Follow the Stars Home is another of Ms. Rice's classics.” —Romantic Times

  “Beautiful, touching . . . Emotions run deep in this heartwarming tale. . . . This unforgettable journey will stay with you long after you've read the last chapter.” —Rendezvous

  CLOUD NINE

  “A tightly paced story that is hard to put down . . . Rice's message remains a powerful one: the strength of precious family ties can ultimately set things right.” —Publishers Weekly

  “One of those rare reading experiences that we always hope for when cracking the cover of a book . . . A joy.”

  —The Library Journal

  “Elegant . . . Rice hooks the reader on the first page.”

  —The Hartford Courant

  “Warm, sweet, and deeply touching . . . a novel filled with poignant emotion and the fine, soft twist of elegant storytelling . . . a heartfelt look inside the workings of ordinary yet extraordinary lives.”

  —Deborah Smith, author of When Venus Fell

  “A celebration of family and the healing power of love. Poignant and powerful . . . One of those rare books which refreshes and renews the landscape of women's fiction for a new generation of readers.”

  —Jayne Ann Krentz, author of Sharp Edges

  HOME FIRES

  “Exciting, emotional, terrific. What more could you want from a late-summer read?” —The New York Times Book Review

  “Compelling . . . poignant . . . riveting.”

  —The Hartford Advocate
>
  “Rice makes us believe that healing is possible.”

  —Chicago Tribune

  “Good domestic drama is Rice's chosen field, and she knows every acre of it. . . . Rice's home fires burn brighter than most, and leave more than a few smoldering moments to remember.” —Kirkus Reviews

  BLUE MOON

  “Brilliant.” —Entertainment Weekly

  “A rare combination of realism and romance.”

  —The New York Times Book Review

  “Eloquent . . . A moving and complete tale of the complicated phenomenon we call family.”

  —People

  More critical acclaim for

  LUANNE RICE

  “Luanne Rice proves herself a nimble virtuoso.”

  —The Washington Post Book World

  “Rice has an elegant style, a sharp eye, and a real warmth. In her hands families, and their values . . . seem worth cherishing.” —San Francisco Chronicle

  “Rice's great strength is in creating realistic characters readers care about.” —The Denver Post

  “What a lovely writer Luanne Rice is.” —Dominick Dunne