Read A Simple Thing for Free Online Page B

said.
    Barefoot snorted. “Let me guess. You’re here because you want to get back to a simpler life, grow your own food, work the land—another version of all the goddamned New Yorkers who overran Vermont. Only now Vermont’s too crowded, so you’ve come to the San Juans. Do us a favor: if you like it here, don’t tell your friends.”
    Susannah saw Quinn bite his lower lip and reach a hand up to twirl his hair with one finger, something he always did when he was nervous.
    â€œFor God’s sake, Barefoot, you could be a little more welcoming,” Betty said. She turned to Quinn. “Don’t mind him. Every island needs its resident grouchy hermit.” She ground out her cigarette in a bucket on the dock and pocketed the stub. “The Delaneys are coming to dinner tonight. Why don’t you come, too? You can tell them about early days on the island and get to know them so you don’t have to be so rude next time you see them.”
    â€œI’m not rude; I’m honest,” Barefoot said. His tone changed, from one of irritation to something softer. “But I appreciate the invitation and I’d like to come, Elizabeth. I’ll bring the wine.”
    The dog started to bark as a gull swooped down and lit on the piling at the end of the dock. He barked and barked.
    â€œToby!” Barefoot said. “Quiet!” The dog stopped barking and sat down, looking expectantly at Barefoot. “You’d think he’d never seen a gull before,” Barefoot said, shaking his head. “Dog lives on a damn island and sees a hundred seagulls a day. It’s the breed. He’s a hunter.”
    â€œActually, Labrador retrievers used to be fishing dogs,” Quinn said. “The fishermen in Newfoundland used them to help pull in nets and catch the fish that escaped.”
    Barefoot stared hard at Quinn. “Is that so?” he said. He shifted his body on the seat of the dinghy and looked at Toby as though he’d never seen him before. “This is my fifth black Lab—fifth one named Toby, too—and I’ve never heard that.”
    He turned, raised a hand to his bandanna-covered forehead, and gave Quinn a small salute. “We’ll discuss it further tonight,” he said. He nodded at Susannah and Katie, and then pulled at the oars and turned the dinghy out toward the bay.
    â€œHe’s a brilliant and interesting guy,” Jim said. “Don’t let him intimidate you.” He leaned closer to Susannah. “But I’m warning you about his wine—it’s homemade and sweeter than maple syrup. If you’re lucky, he’ll bring apricot wine and you can manage a few sips. If you’re unlucky—” He shook his head. “ Brussels sprouts wine . Seriously.”
    Two gangly teenage boys came running down the path from the Laundromat to the dock, their strides wide and long, their feet pounding on the wooden boards.
    â€œHah, beat you!” the first one said to the other.
    â€œWho cares?” the second one said with a wide grin.
    â€œWe’ve been waiting for the new kids,” said the first one. He was shorter than his brother, with curly reddish brown hair, warm brown eyes, and a broad, open smile like his father and grandmother.
    â€œThank God!” his brother said. “This is the most exciting thing that’s happened here since the washing machine exploded at the Laundromat.”
    â€œIf an exploding washing machine is exciting, then this place is even more pathetic than I thought,” Katie said. She had come up behind Susannah, and was peering over her shoulder at the two boys.
    â€œYou got that right!” said the taller brother, amused. His thick, straight blond hair fell below his ears and almost covered his eyes. Susannah could see the glint of green irises beneath his bangs, and the faint traces of blond stubble along the lines of his jaw. “I’m Hood, this is