Read Summer at the Shore Leave Cafe for Free Online Page B

say that again,” Jilly agreed, winking at her niece, her hands flying as she rolled napkins around flatware.
    I glanced up, drinking in the marvelous view. How many times had I watched the sun sink into Flickertail Lake? Enough to realize that I would never tire of the sight. The lake was satin-smooth, a gleaming cerulean in the last rays. The only disturbance on the water was the paddleboat; we could hear the girls shrieking and Clint laughing as the sound carried over the still water. The sky itself was awash in a rosy tangerine, the air mellow as evening descended.
    We rehashed the unexpectedly busy day for a bit before Camille said, quietly, “Mom, Dad called today.”
    My heart snagged on something sharp for a moment. I felt Jilly’s gaze but met Camille’s when I looked away from the window. “Did you get to talk to him?”
    Camille shook her head. She’d taken the barrette from her hair, and her beautiful dark curls hung to her shoulder blades. Her white shirt was undone past three buttons, allowing for a tiny glimpse of nude-colored bra beneath. Obviously she didn’t realize that it was showing, and I was debating telling her before she said, “No, Ruthie did.”
    â€œWell that’s good,” I allowed, my voice unpleasantly brusque. I felt suddenly sweaty and confined, as though my blouse had shrunk.
    â€œRuthie said he misses us,” Camille went on, undoubtedly unaware of the guilt she was piling on my head.
    â€œI know he does, hon,” I replied, throttling the resentment in my voice down a notch. “He can call anytime he wants, you know that. And you can call him, too.” As per tradition, I’d insisted on an electronics-free summer, and the girls had obeyed without too much complaint. The only exception was our cell phone, which I’d yet to unpack.
    â€œWill Dad come up here this summer?” she asked.
    I wasn’t prepared for these questions yet; we’d been in Landon for less than forty-eight hours, for heaven’s sake. I said, using my special nickname for my oldest, “I don’t know, Milla, I really don’t.”
    Camille sensed she was crossing the border into unknown territory and backed off. I knew she was dying to press the issue, but I’d been unusually reticent with her in the past few months. I hated it as much as she did, but I didn’t know what else to do; as much as I wanted to smash my husband’s reputation (and skull) to smithereens, I didn’t want the girls to know he’d cheated. It was terrible enough having Jilly know. And Mom, Aunt Ellen, Gran…
    â€œIs Dodge married?” Camille wanted to know then. She went on, speculatively, “Because he and Aunt Ellen would make a good couple, don’t you think?”
    My girl, the matchmaker. Jilly huffed a surprised laugh and said, “I’ve thought that for years, that’s so funny.”
    I explained, “No, he’s not married anymore. Marjorie was his wife, but they split up back around the time Ruthann was born. They have a few kids…you remember Justin, probably. He used to help out around here some, when Dodge didn’t need him at the filling station. Liz is still around Landon. Marjorie moved to North Dakota, right, Jill?”
    Jilly nodded. “Yeah, and Liz married Mark Worden, remember him, Jo?”
    â€œShe married Wordo? But he must be two feet taller than she is.” How quickly we fell into gossip. Camille listened avidly, though she hadn’t met anyone we were discussing.
    â€œThey ended up having triplets!”
    â€œCan you imagine?”
    â€œAnd Wordo already has two kids with Missy Worthington. But she does have custody.”
    â€œShe and I were pregnant at the same time, when I was carrying you,” I told Camille. Missy had gotten an unexpected surprise on prom night too.
    Before anyone could respond, Camille, opposite me, lit up like a sparkler; again, I