Summer Island Book Club

by Ciara Knight

  Summer Island Book Club

  Ciara Knight

  Contents

  Reader Letter

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Friendship Salad Recipe

  Readers Guide

  About the Author

  Also by Ciara Knight

  Summer Island Book Club

  Book I

  Friendship Beach Series

  Copyright ©2021 by Ciara Knight

  All rights reserved.

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art by Yocla Cover Designs

  Edited by Bev Katz Rosenbaum

  Copy Edit by Jenny Rarden

  Proofreading by Rachel

  * * *

  ****To receive a FREE starter library (Two free books) AND an alert of Ciara’s next book releases, go to Ciara’s Exclusive Reader group click here. ****

  Reader Letter

  Dear Reader,

  Growing up, I would visit my grandparents in Merritt Island, Florida. Their home was both inspiring and terrifying. To this day, I think my irrational fear of those oversized bugs-that-shall-not-be-named developed while staying with them. Living on a canal has both gifts and curses I guess.

  At the end of my grandparent's road, the asphalt disappeared into the water as if an invitation to walk into the ocean. There was a climbing tree over the water at a little inlet next to the road.

  My cousin and I loved to jump off of the branches of that tree into the cool, salty water on a hot day (which was every day in Florida minus an occasional cold snap in January) and swim back through the channel to the road. Yep, I was a total fishing, crabbing, ocean-going, tomboy. I’d get upset with my cousin when he’d try to talk sense into me about my dangerous ways due to his fear of stingrays and sharks. Poor guy, there was never anyone that could stop me from doing crazy stuff.

  The time I spent at this hidden little gem filled me with joy. My imagination roamed and skidded over the wave caps entering the channel. That little circle of land was my escape from reality. I believe some of my first stories were created in my head while sitting on a tree limb, dangling my feet above the surf.

  I hope if only for an afternoon, this story transports you to that beautiful oasis and that Summer Island will provide you with an uplifting escape from everyday life.

  Sincerely,

  Ciara

  Chapter One

  Julie Boone closed and locked the door to the family business, Summer Island Gift Shop. Not that there was much family left to run it.

  The fresh breeze swept up Sunset Boulevard to her walkway. She stood, scanning down the dead-end street that trailed off into the ocean, and then up toward the one-street downtown area. Quiet, calm, and lonely. The way she preferred her life.

  She followed the cobblestone path around back to her front garden, careful to step over the newly repaired tunnel system she’d created for Houdini—her pet ferret. Okay, it wasn’t her pet, but the town’s. The poor thing had been abandoned by some tourists, and the smart, mischievous little guy had become her best friend.

  At the back of the building, she paused to watch the palm tree in the heart of the butterfly-shaped garden wave in the wind as if to welcome her home. The breeze made a soft hum through the fans outstretching from the trunk as if to reach toward her cottage-style home. A quaint one-story with cloud-colored siding and sky-hued shutters.

  Home. A strange term now that the house in front of her stood empty, void of family and friends, excluding her adopted best friend Houdini. Three years ago, her home had been full of life with parents and husband and child. Now, the dark front window stood as a reminder of all she’d lost. Husband to the widowmaker, parents to age, her daughter to a life beyond small-town living.

  She closed her eyes and smiled. The salty air always comforted her, and there was nowhere on earth she’d rather be than with her memories and with her one remaining friend. The sound of Houdini scratching at the window drew her attention in time to see a light flick on inside, startling her back a few steps. She’d never trained Houdini to turn on a light. Did ferrets do things like that? If any ferret could, it was Houdini. It wasn’t likely an intruder, not in the tucked away East Coast town in Florida where there were zero crimes or vagrants. Not since she’d lived here, which was her entire life, going on fifty years.

  A shadow passed by the window, capturing her breath and sending a chill down her spine, but the white lace curtains opened, revealing a smiling Brianna. Her pride and joy daughter who’d gone out into the world.

  Bri waved madly and then opened the front door. “Mom, It’s me.”

  The beauty, a perfect mix of Julie and her late husband, Joe, with his curly hair, but with Julie’s silver-blue eyes. Their daughter had always been a combination of the best of both of them.

  “Did I startle you?” Bri glided over the cobblestone path through the garden and opened her arms.

  Julie snapped out of her confusion and embraced her daughter as if she could make her stay home forever, but Julie would never do that. She’d never interfere with her daughter’s life. “What are you doing here? You just went back a few days ago. I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon.”

  Bri slid her arm around Julie’s back and guided her into their cottage. “I decided to come home. Sorry I didn’t call ahead, but I wanted to surprise you.”

  “Why?” Bri plopped down on the periwinkle sofa and kicked her feet up on the old sea-drift wooden table Joe had made for her on their tenth anniversary. They’d had a good life together, hadn’t they? Julie settled by her daughter’s side. Houdini rushed onto her lap, turned once, and settled for a good pet.

  “Mom, you haven’t changed a bit. Hello, anyone home? It’s your fiftieth birthday in a couple weeks, so I thought I’d come spend my vacation with you.”

  “You already took your vacation days to be here last month.”

  Bri patted the seat next to her. “Tell me… What’re your plans for your big 5-0?”

  Julie knew her daughter well enough to know she was hiding something but decided to give her space for now. She’d never been the meddling mother type, so she wouldn’t start now. “Don’t have any, really. Work, I guess.”

  Bri huffed. “Mom, tell me you’re not spending all your time running that shop you don’t even like.” She shoved from the couch, causing Houdini to bolt from Julie’s lap and run up the shelves lining the room, where he liked to sit and watch everything from a perfect vantage point. “Let’s see what you’ve been working on. I’m always bragging about the amazing artist my mother is. Total creative type that I wish I could be.” Bri pointed to the back door that led to Julie’s office-turned-storage shed.

  Houdini whined at the thought of being abandoned.

  Wind rattled the mesh grates outside the old-style slat windows. She would’ve updated them years ago, but they were good at keeping out the bugs, especially the icky roaches, better than the mo
dern screens. Besides, the greenish glass was artsy and vintage.

  Bri paused at the hallway. “Come on. Show me what you’re working on.” She disappeared into the kitchen, causing Julie to hurry from the living room and Houdini to race undoubtedly to Julie’s bed to pout. A hint of anxiety whittled its way through her nerves. She’d lied to Bri to get her to return to work a few weeks ago, claiming she would be working on her art again and would be distracted. It had been the only way to free her daughter so she’d leave. She’d spent way too much time here since Joe’s passing three years ago.

  “Wait, I don’t have anything finished.” She raced after her daughter, but by the time she’d caught up to Bri, she’d already entered the shed.

  “What?” Bri turned in the center of the room, the only place left to move with Joe’s things stacked to the ceiling. “I don’t understand. You said you were working on pieces again, sculpting and putting together art, maybe even doing some sketching.”

  Julie wanted to change the subject and quick. “I haven’t had time to clear out the shed. Honestly, I’m not sure what to do with all this stuff.” She braced for her daughter’s scolding about how Julie was stuck in the past and needed to live in the present, but to her relief, there was no reprimand.

  Bri shrugged and smiled. “No worries. We can clear this out together and get your studio set up. It’ll be fun.”

  Julie couldn’t hold in her question any longer. “Tell me the truth. What are you doing back here?”

  The cry of a seagull above echoed through the shed, but Julie remained with her motherly staredown firmly planted on her daughter.

  Bri ran a finger along the dust-covered camping lantern, leaving a clean trail. “I needed a break. I miss you, and I miss dad. I—I quit my job, and I’d like to come home for a while if you’ll have me.”

  In that moment, Julie saw pain flash over her daughter’s face, something Bri would rarely allow Julie to see. Instead of further questions and drilling into her thirty-one-year-old daughter about wanting to give up her career and come home, she opened her arms and pulled Bri in for a hug. “Of course, darling. This is and will always be your home.”

  They stood there in the old shed, Julie torn between the joy of her daughter’s return and the fear she would remain too long until she forgot who she was—a feeling Julie knew well. She wanted more for her daughter. It was her job to show Bri how well she was doing and lift up her daughter so that she could go back to her own life. For now, though, she’d give her some space until she was ready to talk about what had brought her home, beyond caring for her widowed mother.

  Bri hugged her tight and then released her, turning away and eyeing the pile of old clothes in the corner. “We’ll start tomorrow so we can get this place ready for you to create again. I always love watching how you take crazy and make it beautiful.”

  Julie froze. That was a saying she used to hear often years ago, but Bri wouldn’t know about that. She’d never met her childhood friends. Sure she knew about them and the mischievous activities of Julie’s youth with her BFFs, but she wouldn’t know that saying. A coincidence. It had to be. “Let’s go inside and get some dinner and chat about what’s going on in your life.”

  Bri glanced around the space one more time. Julie knew she couldn’t get rid of anything, not now, not ever, not when it was all she had left of Joe and their lives together. But that was a problem for another day, so she flipped off the light and closed the door.

  “Nice deflection, but okay, I’m game to focus on me for a few. I’ve got some news to tell you anyway.”

  “What’s that?” Julie knew her daughter had been dating a boy for almost a year, but she had yet to meet him. Her daughter had sworn it was nothing serious, but perhaps something had changed. Bri had never even mentioned marriage, perhaps because Julie always warned her against getting married too young. Now that Bri was over thirty, Julie worried she’d warned her one too many times, but she’d always wanted more for her daughter than what she and Joe had together in their lives.

  “Nope. Not now. Over dinner. Come on. It’s been forever since we’ve cooked. What shall it be? A soup made of anything we can find in the fridge and cabinet, or an anything taco?” Bri took Julie’s hand and guided her away from the storage of souvenirs of a past life and into the home of memories.

  “Was I always so scattered in life? I hoped that your dad’s sensible, more organized side balanced your upbringing.” Guilt pinched her like a crab, quick and unexpected.

  Bri removed a bunch of veggies from the hanging basket in the kitchen and tossed them on top of the cutting board Joe made that Julie had etched a recipe into. They’d worked well together all those years. Best friends for life, they’d always said. Not big on romance, but the partnership was there.

  “Mom, I was lucky to have you both. When I went away to college and I was chatting with all those northern folks in Georgia, I realized how unique a life I’ve had. It made me appreciate this place even more. And as for you? Ha, perfect. You made life fun and exciting and unpredictable, while Dad made it safe and, to be honest, a little boring.” Bri retrieved some more vegetables from the crisper in the old white fridge. “Not that I’m complaining about Dad. Boring is good sometimes. I grew up calm, well-adjusted, and loved. I only wish I had your talent.”

  Warmth like a summer breeze flittered over Julie’s skin through the open window above the kitchen sink. “You do, darling, and more.” She tucked Brianna’s ringlet brown curls behind her ear, admiring the thickness and wildness of her hair. “Is everything okay? I’m here for you if you need anything.”

  “I know, Mom. You’re always there for everyone else. I heard from the Small-Town Salty Breeze line that you painted Nancy Watermore’s fence, made and delivered food to Cranky Mannie, and cut Old Lady Francie’s yard. All last week.”

  “Please. The STSB line has been dead for years.”

  “No, it’s alive and well, and I’m still connected, even from over five hundred miles away.” Bri peeled the onion and minced it with precision. Then diced some green peppers and mushrooms.

  “Is that why you quit your job and came home?” Apparently, Julie couldn’t hold in her mothering too long.

  “Hand me that onion.” Bri pointed, ignoring her mother’s question.

  Julie leaned against the counter and watched her daughter create an amazing meal without a recipe. “Hon, you can tell me anything.”

  “I know, Mom, and I will when I’m ready.” Brianna poured some coconut oil into the pan along with the fresh veggies. Julie recognized her daughter’s move as her avoiding-the-truth evasive action. “Let’s concentrate on your birthday for now.”

  “I’m looking forward to a quiet, dignified fiftieth at home with my daughter and her amazing cooking.”

  “How about a not-so-alone fiftieth?”

  Julie picked up the dish towel and snapped it at Bri. “Spill it. I know that look. You’re my daughter. You’re up to something no good.”

  “What? Me? I’m innocent.” Bri grabbed a spatula and moved the colorful chopped and minced food around in the pan.

  “As innocent as when you glued Cranky Mannie’s gate shut? Or how about when you poured half a jar of salt into your dad’s beer, or when you put the bucket of seawater over the storage room door at the shop? I think I should’ve never mentioned my youthful antics to you. I think it inspired you too much.” Julie snapped the towel again.

  “Ouch. Hey, dangerous. Hot pan here.” Bri changed the subject and focused on tossing some chicken into a pot of boiling water. Julie had no idea what they’d be eating, but knowing Bri, it would be delicious.

  “Confess, then.” Julie tossed the towel onto the old tiled countertop and crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you avoiding a problem of your own? Work? Boyfriend? Or are you up to something here?”

  “I’m not up to anything.” Bri had a third pan on the stovetop and was working on some sort of sauce that was a pretty peach color. “As for my job, I res
igned because it was just that, a job. It isn’t my passion.” Bri paused her hand mid-stir. “I just think it’s time for you to move on, and I hope a little special birthday celebration will kick start you into a new life.”

  “A new life? I’m turning fifty, not twenty-one. And I like my old life. All the wrinkly, hot power surging, sun-spotted years of it.”

  “Puh-leeease. You look amazing. I only wish I had your hourglass shape and those lips. I’d have to use five syringes of lip volumizing injections to make mine look like that. Besides, you look better in a bikini than any woman I know.”

  “Bikini? Ha. I haven’t worn one of those in a decade or two.” Julie held up both her hands. “If you’re here for some misguided notion that I need a life intervention, you can forget it. Don’t need it. I’m happy. You should go back to your life and stop butting into mine.”

  Bri turned down the burner to a simmer and wiped her hands. “Are you, Mother? Truly happy? Not the I-will-bury-my-sorrow-by-helping-others happiness?”

  “Since when is it a crime to help your neighbors?”

  “It’s not, unless you don’t have a life beyond that.” Bri strained the chicken from the water and added it to the frying pan. Sizzles erupted. Five-star restaurant kitchen aromas filled the small space, making Julie’s stomach growl.

  “See, you need me.” Bri pointed the spatula at Julie’s belly.

  “I always want you, baby girl, but I don’t need you to abandon your life to come spend my birthday with me. Is that why you left your job? Did you get fired for taking too much time off?”