Excerpt of Another Summer by Rebecca Stevenson

After returning to the cottage, Tracy’s conflicted emotions and ambivalent feelings about John and her mother made her restless, and she set out for the ocean, hoping the regularity and reliability of the waves could soothe her soul as they had so many times in the past. The sun had burned away the morning haze, and the day had turned golden. She marveled at the difference in sounds in Wentworth Cove and the ones she was used to in Boston. No car horns sending impatient messages to other drivers, no sirens from emergency vehicles, no cell phones ringing or voices offering conversations that should be kept private. Only the occasional sound of a songbird in a willow tree breaking the silence. Or in the distance, some children laughing and playing tag. She passed couples as she ambled down the coastline and once again thought about how it would be to have someone to share this time with—a shoulder to cry on, a sympathetic ear to listen as she tried to sort out her feelings. For a few seconds she allowed herself to think about Nathan as that “someone.” He would be sympathetic— that she knew—but was she ready to open herself up to him in that way? After all, she’d known him only a couple of weeks. Lost in thought, she didn’t hear the footsteps coming up behind her. A gentle tap on her shoulder as he said her name quietly. “Tracy. I thought I might find you here.” “Nathan, I didn’t expect…” “I know, but since there’s no phone in the cottage and you said you were keeping your cell phone turned off—and you weren’t home when I went by, I took a chance. If this isn’t a good time, though…” “No. It’s a great time. I just needed one of my therapeutic ocean walks.” “Do you mind if I join you or would you rather walk alone?” Are you kidding? If you only knew how much I don’t mind. “Of course not. I’d like the company. Sometimes I enjoy being alone out here, but this is not one of those times.” She hoped that sounded casual enough and didn’t give away her true feelings at the moment. They walked without saying anything for a minute or two before Nathan broke the silence. “I’m sure you thought I was rude the first time we met—in the art gallery. Didn’t you? As I recall, I wasn’t very friendly when you tried to talk to me. Sometimes I don’t know what gets into me when I’m writing. It’s like I don’t really sense anything but the words that are flowing through me. That’s the only way I know to describe it—they just well up in my head, travel through my arms and hands and come out my fingertips. Most of the time I didn’t even know I had them inside me. But enough of that. What I really wanted to say is I’m sorry if I came across as unfriendly.” Nathan was being honest, and Tracy felt she should, too. “I’ll have to admit I was surprised on the Fourth when I got to know you a little better. I could tell I had misjudged you. And now that we’ve spent more time together, I think I’m beginning to know the real Nathan.” “I’d like to get to know the real Tracy. Tell me all about you. I know you don’t like to cook, but what do you like to do? What kind of music do you like? What do you like to read? Tell me about your family.” “Whoa! Slow down. All of that could take a while.” “Well, as you’ve probably noticed, my time is my own to do with as I please as long as I manage to eat and keep a roof over my head. And right now what I want to do with it is find out more about you, so you have no excuse not to talk. I have all the time in the world.” Where did Tracy want this to go? Ordinarily, she would put on the brakes before something got started. After all, she had only two weeks left in Wentworth Cove. Why let it go any further? But she could hear Gina saying, “Don’t mess this one up, Tracy,” so she decided to jump in with both feet.