He shrugged. “I can’t reach her. She won’t text me back; she won’t call me back. It’s driving me crazy. I got this weird message from her that she was going to stay with a friend on the North Fork for a while. And that’s it. Nothing else. I’ve called her, like, six times.” He stuck his hands in the back pockets of his 501s and sighed. “And now I figure she’s trying to let me down easy. I guess it serves me right.”
“Evan, it’s not you she’s mad at. It’s me.”
“What?” he asked.
“When I found out that you and Rory were seeing each other, I freaked. I told her to leave. I kicked her out. I’m sure she’s avoiding you because of that. Nothing else.”
Evan’s olive-green eyes went wide. “You kicked her out? Damn.”
“I was upset. One of you could have said something to me, by the way.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said.
“But I don’t want to sit at home and stew about it all. So you guys really hit it off. I’m glad. I am.”
Evan exhaled. “Could you… could you… I mean, I don’t want to put you in a weird place or anything—”
“If I find her, could I put in a good word for you?” Isabel asked.
“Yes.” He bit his lip. “If it’s not too weird or anything.”
“You know I could be totally smug right now and say that you do deserve this,” she said, smiling. “But I won’t. I’ll put in a good word for you.”
“Thanks. Thank you. Seriously.” Evan grabbed her and hugged her. “Thank you.”
“Be good to her, okay?” Isabel said. “She really only deserves the best. I’m serious.”
“I will,” he said, smiling. “I promise, I will.”
“Okay. I gotta go.”
“Thanks, Isabel. You’re a cool girl, you know that?” Evan said.
She smiled at him one last time and then hurried to her car.
Isabel was no expert when it came to navigating the North Fork, but she’d been to it enough times to have a vague sense of where she was going when she made the turn at Riverhead. According to Fee, Rory was staying with someone named Amelia Daniels, and according to Google, the Danielses lived in Southold. It was almost dusk by the time she turned on the correct street. She pulled up in front of the listed address and saw Rory’s beige Honda across the street. She’d found the place. She parked the car and got out, smoothing her hair and the front of her dress. Looking as nice as possible would hopefully only support her case.
A short woman wearing a KISS THE COOK apron over a polo shirt and khaki shorts answered the door. “Yes?” she asked, her face coming right up against the screen.
“Hi, I’m here to see Rory? Rory McShane?” Isabel asked.
“Just a moment,” the woman said and left.
Isabel waited on the porch. It had an old-fashioned upholstered swing decorated with what looked like hand-knitted pillows. Sweet, Isabel thought. Maybe Rory likes this place better than my house.
“Isabel?” Rory stood behind the screen in bare feet. She looked a little scared. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Isabel said. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Okay.” Rory pushed open the screen door and joined Isabel on the porch.
“You have to come back home,” Isabel said.
“What do you mean, home?” Rory asked skeptically.
“I mean, my house,” Isabel said. “You have to come back. We miss you. I miss you. And I overreacted. I’m sorry. I had no right to kick you out. I don’t know what came over me; I must have been temporarily insane or something.”
“You said that I sabotaged your relationship,” Rory said, speaking the words very carefully.
“God, no, of course you didn’t,” Isabel said, practically bouncing up and down. “How could you take that seriously? You can’t take anything I say seriously.”
Rory arched a brow. “But you said it, Isabel. You still said it.”
“I know,” Isabel said, contrite. “And I’m sorry for that. I’m really, truly deeply sorry. It was wrong and stupid and childish.” She paused. “And I regret it.”
Rory looked like she might actually burst out laughing. “O-kay, Ms. Mea Culpa. You don’t have to beat yourself up about it or anything. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Evan. I should have. I know that now. But I also didn’t want you to hate me, and I felt responsible…” Rory sighed with her entire body. “What a mess. And I haven’t spoken to him; I’m totally fine with that being over—”
“No,” Isabel cut in. “It can’t be over. Evan needs you. He thinks you’re blowing him off. You need to call him. Before he does something drastic. I’m serious.”
“How do you know this?”
“He told me. I saw him today. At the restaurant. He looked terrible. He made me promise to tell you how much he cares about you.”
Rory still looked pained.
Isabel grabbed Rory’s hand. “Ror, it’s okay. I think it was my ego that was hurt. Nothing else. I give you my blessing. As weird and pope-like as that sounds.”
Rory was quiet. “What about you? You don’t have feelings for him anymore?”
Isabel blushed. “Well, I kind of moved on. To Mike.” Isabel closed her eyes and held up her hands. “Don’t judge.”
Rory sat on the porch swing to absorb the shock. “Did you guys hook up?”
Isabel nodded, biting her lip as if waiting for a painful diagnosis.
“And are you dating him?”
Isabel shook her head.
“So how have you moved on?”
“Let me explain. It was awesome. I mean, amazing. And then, I think I got scared. All of a sudden he was acting like a boyfriend.”
“But that’s good, isn’t it?” Rory asked.
Isabel sat next to Rory on the porch swing. “I don’t know. For some reason it made me want to run.”
“Maybe you’re scared,” Rory said. “I mean, you did just break up with someone. It’s perfectly normal.”
“I don’t know if I can go through that again,” Isabel said. “I don’t know Mike as a nice guy. And look at what happened with Evan. I still got hurt.”
The screen door opened. “Hey, are you hungry or what?” Amelia asked. She stopped in her tracks at the sight of Isabel.
“Hey, Milly, this is Isabel,” said Rory. “Isabel, this is Amelia. We’re interns together at the East End Fest.”
“Hi,” Amelia said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Isabel turned to Rory. “Does she think I’m a bitch?” she asked.
“No, she doesn’t at all,” Rory said. “I swear.”
“What are you guys doing out here?” Amelia asked.
“I was telling Rory how sorry I am for kicking her out,” Isabel said.
“And then Isabel was telling me about this guy she may or may not be dating.”
“Oh?” Amelia said, slightly interested.
“Yeah, it’s nothing,” Isabel said, waving it off. “You wouldn’t know him.”
“Actually, she might,” Rory pointed out. “He is from the North Fork.”
“What’s his name?” Amelia asked.
“Mike Castelloni,” Isabel said.
“Mike Castelloni?” Amelia replied. “Yeah, sure I know him. Wait a minute. You’re the girl he dated last summer.”
“What do you mean?” Isabel asked, suddenly intrigued.
“I heard about you. That he was dating some girl from East Hampton last summer who broke his heart. Some blond girl from Lily Pond Lane.”
“Broke his heart?” Isabel asked, almost falling off the swing.
“That’s what I heard,” Amelia said, squinting, as if she needed to concentrate to remember. “That it didn’t work out and the girl left, and he was really torn up about it. And Mike was a guy who was never torn up about anyone in high school. Believe me.”
Isabel slowly stood up. “I didn’t know,” she said.
“That’s what I heard,” Amelia said.
“Amelia!” a v
oice called from inside the house. “Dinner!”
“Why don’t you guys both stay and eat?” Amelia asked. “My mom’s making cioppino tonight. Fish stew. It’s amazing.”
Isabel looked at Rory.
“Stay,” Rory said. “It’ll be fun. Mrs. Daniels is an incredible cook.”
Isabel looked out at the darkening street and could see the lights on in other people’s homes. Big Wheels and skateboards and other kids’ toys were scattered across front lawns. She could hear the sounds of children and smell the charcoal briquettes of barbecues. There was something cozy and warm about Amelia’s neighborhood. For one thing, it was an actual neighborhood, not a silent, deserted street lined with museum-worthy pieces of real estate hidden behind tall hedges. No wonder Rory was in no hurry to leave, she thought. She wasn’t, either.
“Okay,” she said. “I’d love to.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Driving back into the Rules’ estate, Rory thought back to that day two months ago when she’d arrived. She’d had no expectations then, but she had gone into this summer thinking it would just be the same. Why did people always expect to have the same experience over and over again, if it was a good one the first time? No wonder things had been so hard for her, she thought, as she parked. She’d set herself up for disappointment.
She got out of the car and heard the same roll of the waves, felt the same breeze cool her forehead and neck. A week away at Amelia’s had given her perspective. Yes, this place was beautiful. But it wasn’t her home, and it never would be. It was barely home to the Rules’ kids.
The back door opened, and Connor walked out. He’s still gorgeous, she thought, taking in his firm jaw and his arresting blue eyes. But as he walked toward her, she knew that from now on he would be her friend. And that made her just as happy.
“Hi,” she said. “How are you?”
“Good. How are you?” He tilted his head as if ready to hear all sorts of truths tumble out of her mouth.
“I’m fine. Isabel and I made up. No hard feelings.”
“She can be kind of a hothead,” he said. “But you already knew that by now.”
“I did,” she said, smiling. “But this time I kind of deserved it.” She unlocked her trunk and reached in for one of her bags.
“Rory, I’m sorry,” Connor said. “I thought I was ready to have someone really see me. The good and the bad. But I guess I really wasn’t.”
“That’s okay. I get it.”
“And I think it’s great that you’ve met someone else. I mean, part of me does want to kick his ass,” he said, smiling, “but you deserve to be happy. I want that for you.”
“Well, I’m looking forward to school. I hope you and I can hang out in California sometime. I’m only going to be eight hours away.”
“Sure, I’ll come up there every weekend,” he joked. “But seriously, yeah. We’ll hang out.”
He reached in to get her bags.
“You know what? Leave them,” she said.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’ll get them another time.” She closed the trunk.
“All right. My mom’s excited to see you. She practically tore Isabel’s head off for kicking you out. She’s got lunch ready inside.”
The thought of an intimate lunch with Mrs. Rule and Connor was slightly intimidating, but she knew that this would be the last one for a while.
Mike’s house was quiet in the heat of the afternoon, and as Isabel got out of the car, the only sound was the slow throbbing of frogs coming from the lake a mile or so away. The porch was still neat and brushed clean of dust and dirt, and the only clutter was a tidy stack of mail that sat on the welcome mat. Isabel knocked on the door.
“Coming!” yelled a voice. A girl’s voice. Isabel froze. Mike was inside with a girl. I knew it, she thought, closing her eyes. She craned her head back toward her car. Was it too late to run away?
The door opened. The slim, pretty brunette Isabel had seen talking to Mike at the store stood in front of her. She had one hand thrust in the back pocket of her very tight jeans. Her tank top was hardly more than a few inches of fabric. “Yeah?” she asked.
Isabel swallowed. “Um, is Mike here?”
“No, he’s at work. Is there something I can help you with?” The girl was chewing gum, and suddenly an enormous bubble began to emerge from her lips.
“Could you give him a message for me?” Isabel went on. “That Isabel stopped by?”
The bubble burst against the girl’s lips, and her face lit up. “No way,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’m Gina. Mike’s cousin. Well, second cousin. I’ve heard so much about you. Hi!”
“Hi!” Isabel shook Gina’s hand.
“He’s letting me crash here for a few nights,” Gina said. “You know. Parental issues.” She gave Isabel a knowing smile and cracked her gum. “Anyway, I’ll tell Mikey you were here. I’m sure he’ll be sorry he missed you.”
“Thanks,” Isabel said. She had the weird urge to hug this girl, who she realized now couldn’t be more than sixteen years old. “Tell him I’d come by his work, but that I don’t want to disturb him. But I should be around all day if he wants to call.”
Gina reached out and punched Isabel on the shoulder. “You two make such a cute couple,” she said. “For real.”
Isabel laughed. “Yeah. For real.”
Rory knocked on Mrs. Rule’s bedroom door. “Mrs. Rule? Are you in here? It’s Rory.”
“Come in.”
Tentatively, delicately, Rory pushed open the bedroom door. Mrs. Rule’s bed was covered with matching suitcases, half-filled with clothes. Mrs. Rule emerged from her walk-in closet, carrying a stack of thin cashmere sweaters. “Well, look who finally is back,” she said, with genuine warmth. She walked over to Rory and, still holding the sweaters, pressed her into a hug. “It’s good to see you.”
“What’s going on?” Rory asked.
“Oh, I’ve decided to take a little trip,” Mrs. Rule said. “London, Paris, maybe Rome. We’ll see.” She plopped the sweaters into an open suitcase. “I think it’d be good for me to get a change of scene. East Hampton isn’t the only vacation spot in the world.”
“No, it definitely isn’t,” Rory said, wanting to smile. “Are you leaving because people know about the divorce? The people at the Georgica?”
“Well, it hasn’t been a picnic, but I was prepared for that,” she said, going to her closet and bringing back a stack of skinny jeans in every color of the rainbow. “Well, almost prepared. I think Isabel might have been right about that place. It’s not the kindest bunch of women in the world. I don’t know why I put up with it as long as I did.”
“I think what you did was really brave,” Rory said. “A lot of other people wouldn’t have had the guts to be honest. You did.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Rule said. “And it’s cost me the whole paddle tennis season.” She gave Rory a smile that indicated she was half joking and dropped the jeans into the case. “Are you going to be all right here without me? I’ve asked Fee to look after you girls. And I trust that you’ll keep an eye on Isabel for me. Keep her out of trouble.”
“I don’t think Isabel needs that as much as you think,” Rory said. “She’s grown up a lot since last year. She deserves a little more credit.”
“You’re probably right,” Mrs. Rule muttered, half to herself. “If it’s all right with you, I got the same necklace for Isabel that I got you. I figure you guys can have matching necklaces. Something to remind you of this summer.”
“I love that idea,” Rory said.
“I leaned on you a lot this summer,” Mrs. Rule went on. “I hope you didn’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Rory said. “When do you leave?”
“Mickey’s driving me to JFK in two hours.”
“All right, then.” Before she knew what she was doing, Rory walked up to Mrs. Rule and threw her arms around her. “Have a good trip. And thank you for a wonderful summer.”
“
You’re welcome,” Mrs. Rule said, hugging Rory back. “But the summer’s not over.”
“I think this might be it for me,” Rory said. “We’ll see.” She stepped to the door. “I have to go meet someone. Take care, Mrs. Rule.”
“Good luck, Rory. And please, go get yourself some new shoes at Stubbs and Wootton on me,” she said, glancing down at Rory’s slides. “Those are a disgrace.”
When she walked onto Main Beach a few hours later, Evan was waiting for her on the shady verandah, sipping a soda. At the sight of Rory he tossed the soda in a garbage can and strode toward her, ready to envelop her in his arms.
“Hey,” he said. “You’re back, thank god. It’s like I’ve been living in a Nicholas Sparks movie since you’ve been gone.”
She laughed and hugged him. “It’s good to see you.”
“It’s great to see you,” he said. He leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips. “Did you get all my messages?” he asked. “Even the desperate ones? You can delete those, by the way. Not my finest moment.”
“Yes, I got them all.” She took him by the arm. “Let’s walk for a minute.”
They left the shade of the snack bar and headed toward the water, weaving their way past blankets and umbrellas and beach chairs. A plane over the ocean tugged a sign advertising a car dealership in Riverhead. “So. I have this whole speech,” she said, chuckling.
“Uh-oh,” Evan said. “For some reason that doesn’t give me a good feeling.”
“I’m leaving today,” she said. “I think it’s time. I want to go home and be with my friends before we all go our separate ways. My boss said it was fine if I left early. I won’t get any great recommendation from her, but I wasn’t going to anyway.”
“Okaaaay,” he said. “Not exactly what I was hoping to hear.”
“Meeting you was, by far, the best part of my summer. The best, best part.” She looked up at him. Evan seemed intent on listening to her. “But I don’t want a boyfriend right now. Maybe down the road… but not now. Most of my life I was the girl without the boyfriend. And now I don’t remember what it’s like to not have one. Some girls can do that, go from guy to guy. I can’t. It’s just not me. Even though I thought it was.”
Since Last Summer Page 22