I shifted from one foot to the other. It was so strange that Erica felt like she had to hide her work from her family, strange that the Carmichaels were so judgmental about her job. Annie had loved hearing about Erica’s projects and even brainstormed ideas with her. Nothing rivaled their seasonal tablescapes, a blend of Pottery Barn or Williams Sonoma pieces with fine china from Annie’s personal collection. “This is your best yet, honey,” I remembered Annie remarking several Februarys ago. For Erica’s Galentine’s Day dinner, place cards were cute retro Valentines and each wineglass had a pink or red ribbon tied around its stem. Blush-colored candles also added to the rosy mood. “Truly, I marvel at your taste.”
A lump in my throat, I swallowed and said good night before going to find my dad and the twins. Nick and Sage were leading a stargazing session on the deck. “Sweet dreams, Olivia!” they chorused when I said I was turning in for the night. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to hang out with people, but I was feeling drained from the day. It had been surprisingly fun, butlong.
Connor’s voice hit me the second I closed myself in our nook. “I’ll see Austin and Katie tomorrow,” I could hear him from inside our room, talking or FaceTiming with someone. “Meredith’s family is hosting a party for the Fourth. I’m bringing Finn and Teddy for dinner and the fireworks.”
“Hostinga party?” a bemused voice answered as I sighed, just wanting to read. My book was on my bunk. “Orthrowinga party? Because I’ve always gotten the impression that Meredith’s familyknowshow to party…”
“I’ll be sure to update you,” Connor chuckled, and when he asked how someone named Marco was, I headed for the bathroom.
This is ridiculous, I thought once I’d gathered up my shampoo, conditioner, body wash, loofah, and face wash. Plus, my towel.You’re going to go parading though the house with all this? Announce to everyone that you’re taking a shower?
Why was Erica and my dad’s bathroom so far?
Which made me debate whether or not to even take a shower, but then I remembered Connor’s and myoutdoorshower; it was only a leap away on the porch.
One deep breath later, I pushed out onto the porch. Its warm light was on, and I could faintly hear Oyster Pond lapping up against the shore. The breeze blew through my clothes as I took a couple steps down to the shower and slipped inside to find a flagstone floor. I squinted in the porch light’s dim glow to see that the shower was big. A few hooks on the wall signified a changing area, and farther along the wall was the showerhead. Pipes ran down the side of the cedar-shingled house. One of them was red, and I clocked theHfaucet.
Connor’s shower stuff lined the ledge—classic Old Spice body wash, but not some generic guy shampoo.ORIBE, the fancy black bottle read. Healsohad a loofah.
Interesting.
I made room for my things then refocused on the shower. “Here we go…” I muttered before turning the hot tap and quickly dodging the water’s spray.
Still clothed, I hung my towel on a hook and undressed. Goose bumps shivered on my skin, able to feel the hot water’s steam. It encouraged me to sneak toward the shower, and after one more burst of breeze, I surrendered.
It took me approximately five seconds to understand why Connor considered an outdoor shower close to heaven. The water was indeed hot and absolutelygushedfrom the showerhead. I hadn’t requested a back massage, but I was getting one anyway.
Oh my god, I thought, fighting the urge to moan.I love this…
As the cherry on top, this shower had a window. I gazed out at Oyster Pond while rubbing lavender shampoo though my hair. The bright moon made the dark water shine, and I could see all the stars sprinkled across the sky.
It was a beautiful night.
I didn’t usually take long showers, but my skin was a deep pink when I pulled on my pajamas an extravagant thirty minutes later. Connor had disappeared somewhere.
As relaxing as the porch was, I couldn’t resist climbing my ladder and getting cozy in bed, switching on my reading lamp and snuggling into my pillows. My friends had sent a couple texts, so before diving into my book, I replied with a photo of meoutside the Old Whaling Church.Goddess divine!Quincy wrote while Gwen hearted the picture.Who took this???
“Is that the one you bought yesterday?” Connor caught me off guard a while later, during a spicy scene. “From Edgartown Books?”
“Yes.” I reluctantly placed my bookmark in between pages 199 and 200, then looked up to see him leaning against the doorframe in a dark green sweatshirt. Swede was at his side. “Where have you been?”
He raised a suggestive eyebrow. “Where have Ibeen?”
I felt a couple pinpricks at the back of my neck.Beenhad come out with a dramatic emphasis, maybe even an unintentionally sexy undertone. “No, that’s not what I meant,” I backtracked. “What have you been up to?”
“Bedtime,” he replied, scratching Swede behind the ears. “Did you know your brother does a spot-on Irish accent?”
“Uh,” I said. “He does a few funny impressions…”
Connor shook his head. “Bedtime is a production,” he said. “I mean, Finn is pretty easy. He and Teddy are superheroes about staying off the screens during the day, so I give him a half hour on the iPad before bed. He’s really into nature documentaries.” He paused. “But Teddy is old fashioned; he picked out a ton of books at the library last week, and we’re now making our way through them.”
I sighed. “Let me guess, you have a talent for voices.”
“I do.” Connor beamed. “And tonight I was entertainingenough that Finn and your siblings joined us.” He rubbed Swede’s belly. “The story was also pretty compelling.”
“Oh, that’s sweet,” I said genuinely, imagining all four kids and Connor, plus Swede, crammed together on Teddy’s bunk. “How did my brother wind up speaking in an Irish accent?”
“We took turns reading. I cast them in different roles; Bryce played the Irishman. They wanted me to read longer, so I told them it was to protect my vocal cords.” He slyly dropped his voice. “It also gets them to practice their reading. They don’t even realize it.”
