The Summer House: A gorgeous feel good romance that will have you hooked

by Jenny Hale

  “I only think he was trying to kiss me. And, anyway, celebrity or not, there’s no way I’m going to let some hothead who thinks he can swoon me with his fancy boat trips kiss me.”

  Olivia shook her head. “Why didn’t I go out instead of you to get lunch yesterday? I’d have totally kissed him.”

  Callie laughed and clicked off the light. A streak of dark blue rippled across the wall, the reflection of the sunlight through a stained glass sun catcher they’d gotten from Gladys. “You have no shame.”

  “You’re right. I have no shame. But! I can always say that because I took initiative, I actually dated Tony Reemos.”

  “You were twelve!” Callie said, bursting into laughter. Olivia had run home that night and called Callie to tell her that she’d met Tony Reemos at the mall and that they’d held hands and exchanged phone numbers. Callie had lain on her bedroom floor, the phone to her ear for an hour, while Olivia told her all the details about this gorgeous boy she’d spent the day with after her mom had dropped her off to go shopping.

  “Doesn’t matter. I’ve dated someone famous.”

  Callie doubled over. “I’d forgotten about that—he isn’t famous. He’s a barely known actor. That’s not to say that it isn’t awesome, but I’d hardly call him famous.”

  “He was in the background of that tissue ad and it was a national commercial!”

  Callie laughed again. They headed downstairs together. Callie had a big project in front of her today. She was going to strip old wallpaper off the formal living room walls and paint them a light blue. She’d hoped to hire someone to paint a mural on one of the walls, just something subtle, so she could make it a beachy sitting room.

  With no window treatments, the bright sun filtered into the formal living room, leaving large rectangular patches of light on the hardwoods, which was good, since the workers had cut the power to wire the new porches and Callie had to prepare for taking down the wallpaper. It was an enormous undertaking, so big that it was a little daunting, but when they’d divvied up the tasks, one of them had to take it, so Callie had volunteered, to Olivia’s complete relief.

  In return, Olivia had promised to do the cooking for the first month once the appliances were installed to pay her back, but Callie assured her it was really fine. Then she told her all her favorite dishes—obviously teasing. Callie loved to cook, and said she’d do both the wallpaper and the cooking without a flinch.

  Alone with her thoughts, Callie tried not to dwell on the length of the task at hand, allowing her mind to drift as she laid out the drop cloths. The wooden floor was dusty, quite a contrast to that gleaming boat she’d been on yesterday with Luke. His wealth had made her nervous, but he’d relaxed her so easily. As she dragged the cloth further down the floor with her foot until it covered the corner, she caught herself thinking about his smile when he was talking about the strawberry wine. The way his forehead wrinkled a little when his eyebrows rose, the lift in his cheekbones when that crooked smile emerged…

  “I mixed up the solution for you. It’s down in the driveway—I could hardly get that heavy bucket across the street, let alone up all those stairs,” Gladys said, startling her as she dumped herself down dramatically into the only chair in the room. Callie had left the chair for her because Gladys was going to walk her through the process. Gladys had insisted on making the wallpaper stripper instead of just buying it, swearing that good old water and liquid fabric softener would do the trick. “We could’ve mixed it over here, but then I’d have had to cart a zillion bottles of fabric softener over. I didn’t know which was worse, so I opted for the one bucket.”

  “Oh, you should’ve texted me to help you. I’d have carried it.”

  Gladys was always helping. When The Beachcomber had come up for sale, Olivia had confided in Callie that she just didn’t have the money to put down on it. Callie had wanted to help, but she didn’t have enough to cover the whole down payment and all that would go into the purchase and restoration of the house. Olivia had fretted over it for ages before finally telling Gladys she didn’t think it would be possible to purchase the property.

  Gladys had invited them both to come down and have a look at it anyway, claiming they could really just come for a visit. Over dinner that night, Gladys had slid a check across the table from her savings account—half the down payment. She’d told Olivia it was her inheritance, and that best she use it while the moment was right.

  It was spending time at Olivia’s where Callie learned how family took care of each other, and this was another example. Everything rested on this for Olivia and Callie, but the money didn’t affect them as much as Gladys’s gesture.

  “I can’t stand wallpaper,” Gladys said, getting back up and straightening one of the drop cloths Callie had put down to protect the floor. “It’s more trouble than it’s worth.” She peered up disapprovingly at the old floral pattern. “When you’re tired of it, you can’t just change it without a major event.”

  Callie smiled at her. “We’re sticking to paint,” she said in agreement.

  “Do you have an electric sander? That glue wreaks havoc on drywall.”

  “Yep.” She removed the last of the switch plates and set it down in the pile in the center of the room. “I’ll just get the bucket. Be right back.”

  “Where’s Wyatt today?” Gladys asked as Callie hauled in the giant painter’s bucket and set it with a slosh on one of the drop cloths.

  “Olivia’s bought him a new kite. She’s outside getting him started.”

  “Bless her. I know it’s hard to keep him entertained. I’ll go out and help her after I get you started and rest my legs for a minute.”

  With a grin, Callie picked up the scorer and started dragging it across the wall in little circles.

  “You two are going to be tired tonight after all this work. I think you need to put your feet up and relax. Why don’t you let me make you some dinner and we’ll spend the evening together?” Gladys asked, shifting to get comfortable. She was smiling, waiting for an answer with that familiar look of motherly concern in her eyes.

  “Check with Olivia, but that sounds amazing to me!” Callie picked at a piece of loose wallpaper and then scored some more. “Don’t go to too much trouble for us, though.”

  “Keep scoring that spot. And it’s never any trouble. How’s the patio out back? There’s still a table out there, right? We could eat outside tonight; I hear the weather is going to be just glorious all day.” Gladys sat for a few minutes more, offering pointers before going out to help Olivia with Wyatt.

  Callie clapped her hand over her mouth as she walked outside. She couldn’t believe what Gladys had done while she was in the shower. Her shoulders ached and her arms were weak from stripping wallpaper all day, but she’d gotten almost all of it off in one day, barely even stopping to eat. The wind cool against her wet hair, she looked over at Olivia who was smiling in one of Gladys’s rocking chairs.

  “Y’all have been working so hard. I just thought you needed this.”

  Gladys had draped the pergola above the patio with a couple of strands of white lights, she’d brought over three rocking chairs, and she’d cleaned the old rectangular picnic table, covered it in a blue and white gingham cloth, and filled it with candles down the middle. Callie took a step toward the table to admire the enormous centerpiece.

  “It was easy,” Gladys said. “My favorite way to decorate a table outside. It’s just a bunch of glass mason jars and vases. I fill them with sand about a third and plop a candle right in. I like white candles for the beach—it’s dramatic.” She winked at Callie and started pulling covered dishes out of warming bags. “Sit down in the rocking chair, Wyatt and I will take it from here.”

  Wyatt, his chest filled with pride, stood with a seashell-design oven mitt on each hand, ready to set the dishes on the table.

  “You sure you don’t need any help?” Callie offered, taking a seat in one of the rocking chairs. The sand gritted beneath it as she rocked.


  “Wyatt’s got it all under control.”

  Olivia pulled a bottle of wine from a bucket of ice by her feet. “My sweet grandmother has thought of everything,” she said, holding it up. “Want a glass?”

  “Absolutely!” Callie said with a laugh, scooting the rocking chair beside her friend while Olivia tipped the bottle over one of the glasses Gladys had brought from inside. “Did you know she was doing all this?” Callie asked, taking the glass from Olivia with a nod of thanks.

  “No. Apparently, she and Wyatt were up to this while we were working today. He’s earned twenty bucks already.”

  “She paid him?” Callie said with a giggle.

  “Of course I did,” Gladys piped up. “Young man’s got to earn that new fishing equipment he wants at the bait and tackle shop.” She set the last dish onto the table while Wyatt got out plates and silverware, setting them down gently. “Now, you know I really brought that wine for myself, right? Better pour me a glass before you two drink it all,” she teased. “I’ve got more.” She clicked on a small radio and turned it up before sitting down.

  Olivia handed her a glass.

  “Wyatt, I hear you have a magazine with all that fishing gear you want in it. Why don’t you run get it and show me what my twenty dollars is going to buy you?”

  “Okay, Gram!” Wyatt slid off the mitts and set them neatly by the warming bags at the edge of the patio before running off to his room to get the magazine.

  “That boy helped me cook all day, did you know that?” she said with an affectionate shake of her head. “It probably didn’t hurt that we baked dessert first and he got to nibble on chocolate chip cookies the whole time.”

  “Gram, you spoil him,” Olivia said. “But I’m so thankful for it. What would we do without you?”

  Gladys raised her glass. “To family,” she said, the late evening sun making her cheeks rosy. Olivia and Callie joined in the toast.

  Callie was so thankful for Gladys. When her own grandmother had passed away, there’d been a hole in Callie’s life, an empty spot that used to be filled with old stories and gentle laughter. Her grandmother was the grounding force in her life that held everything together, and when she was gone, it seemed like the pieces of Callie’s life and her family just floated away, all going in haphazard directions.

  She could still remember the first time it had hit her that Gladys could fill that void. Callie was only about nine. She was running up the walk to Gladys’s house when she tripped and fell, skinning her knee. Gladys took her inside and sat her on a chair in her kitchen. As she bandaged it up, Callie thanked her. Without a flinch, Gladys said, “But that’s what family does; we take care of each other.” With the loss of her own grandmother still fresh, those words had been a welcome relief for Callie, her little heart aching for someone who could take care of her.

  Even now that they were grown, Gladys still managed to take care of them.

  They were on their third bottle of wine, amidst empty plates with remnants of shrimp and sausages, bacon, wrapped asparagus, and homemade crusty bread, Wyatt’s fishing magazine held down with the wine bucket so it wouldn’t blow away. Callie leaned her chin sleepily on her hand, her elbow on the table, the soft lull of the ocean and the wine making it difficult to keep her eyes open. Wyatt was fiddling with the radio while the three women sat chatting at the table.

  “Oh!” Gladys said, holding out a hand to Wyatt. “Stop there.”

  Wyatt stilled his hand on the tuning knob.

  “Turn it up. That’s Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong.” Gladys closed her eyes and swayed to the song. “It’s one of my favorites: ‘Dream a Little Dream of Me’; do you know it?”

  Callie nodded. Armstrong’s raspy voice and Ella Fitzgerald’s sailing pitch were powerful, taking her away, the music consuming her. A gust of wind wrapped around her, rippling the gingham tablecloth, the heavy plates holding it in place.

  “I met her in an airport once,” Gladys said, her nearly empty glass of wine swinging between her fingers. “Did you know she was born in Virginia? I miss Virginia sometimes, but the magic of this place always calls my thoughts right back. How could anything be lovelier than this?”

  “We should look for stardust,” Wyatt said, perking up.

  “Looks like it’s all out at sea tonight.” Gladys pointed to the glistening Atlantic, where the moonlight danced off the ocean, making it sparkle.

  The sun had gone down; the candles were dripping onto the sand in their vases, the white lights twinkling around them. The old wood from the pergola was hidden in the darkness of night.

  Wyatt, still sitting by the radio, was starting to look bored.

  “What’s the matter?” Gladys said with a grin, tipping her head unsteadily in his direction. She’d had a little too much wine, but she’d said earlier that everyone needed to let loose every now and again so they didn’t explode. “Life is in these moments,” she’d said. “The moments we don’t think about or plan.”

  “How can anyone dance to this song?” Wyatt asked, pursing his lips in confusion.

  Gladys set her wine on the table and walked over to him, pulling him up by his hands. “Like this.” She put his little hand on her side and held his other, swaying back and forth. He looked uninterested until she whipped him out and spun him around, making him laugh. He broke free and asked if he could go inside and play with his Legos. She let him go and sat down by Olivia and Callie.

  “I’m delighted y’all live so close now,” she said. “I’ve been so lonesome here by myself. Alice was a lovely neighbor, but nothing compared to this.”

  Gladys’s comment reminded Callie of Alice McFarlin and the journal. “I wonder if Alice McFarlin was lonely here?”

  “She had a brother—Frederick. He used to live in the little cottage next to mine but moved decades ago. His house has sat vacant since—no renters. I assume he still owns it, but I’m not sure.”

  Olivia set her wine down on the table. “Do you know where he is now?”

  Gladys shook her head and placed her hands on her knees, her legs crossed at the ankle. “I haven’t seen him in ages. He used to be around all the time and then one day, he just up and left. Alice avoided the question when I tried to ask, so I left it alone. It was odd, since he and Alice always seemed close.”

  “I found a journal of Alice’s,” Callie said. “I wonder if her brother would like to have it.”

  “Oh?”

  “We haven’t read it—well, just one entry,” Olivia said, pouring more wine into her glass.

  Callie pulled out her phone. “I’m going to search for his name right now. Maybe we can find him to give it to him.” The wine having relaxed her a little too much, she squinted to see the tiny keys on the screen as she typed and hit search. With a huff, she looked up. “There are two hundred forty-three Frederick McFarlins.”

  Olivia rubbed her face, the gesture making her skin red. “Wonder if there’s any information in that journal that might tell us where he is.”

  Her buzz making her sentimental, Callie was willing to take the chance. “I’ll go get it,” she said, getting up slowly and going inside.

  Wyatt was nearly asleep on the sofa, a gigantic tower of Legos beside him on the floor. She smiled and asked if he wanted to come back out with them but he yawned and shook his head, telling her Olivia had said he could sleep on the sofa until they came in for the night.

  Callie grabbed the journal off her dresser and headed back downstairs, opening it to the next entry. When she joined the others, they looked on with interest as she sat down in the rocking chair, more oldies playing on the radio. The reception wasn’t perfect, static breaking up the song, so she twisted the antenna just a little. Then she skimmed the diary entries for any indication of Frederick’s whereabouts, stopping when she saw his name. “Okay, this might be something.” She read: “Frederick should’ve never spoken to that woman.” She looked up and they all shared a dramatic moment before Gladys urged her to keep reading. “Sh
e’s caused him nothing but heartbreak since the moment they met. I tried to tell him, but he wouldn’t listen. He has stars in his eyes. But that’s Frederick, isn’t it? He told me he loved her. I can’t believe it. He’s never told me that about any woman before, and yet the one woman he shouldn’t love, he does. Isn’t that the way of it?”

  “Do you know the woman he’s talking about, Gram?” Olivia asked, her eyes wide.

  Gladys shook her head, baffled.

  Callie didn’t feel right reading any more aloud to Olivia and Gladys, the heaviness of the situation sobering her, but they were pressing her to tell them what it said. “We’ll keep her secrets,” Olivia promised, immediately recognizing Callie’s fears. “You know we will.”

  Callie saw the understanding in Olivia’s eyes. Olivia knew how Callie was about sharing personal things; she knew it made her very uncomfortable. But Callie could tell by both Olivia’s and Gladys’s faces that they were sincere. Slowly, she started to read the rest of the entry.

  ‘‘Frederick has been down lately and I just can’t stand to see it. I had him over for dinner tonight to cheer him up. We watched old movies like we did as kids, and we played cards. He beat me two to one. I didn’t tell him I let him win that last game. He seemed so happy in the moment; I dared not bring him down. I love him so much. I just want to see him happy.’’

  They all sat quietly around the table for a moment. The moonlight was so bright in the inky black of night it cast shadows on the sand.

  “Alice was a lovely woman,” Gladys said, breaking the silence.

  Callie nodded, closing the journal and holding it against her, no closer to finding Frederick, but feeling like she knew Alice just a little better. She was happy that Alice’s home had become hers.

  Eight