Read The Summer Hideaway for Free Online Page B

paused. “Sorry about that.”
    “About what?”
    “Starting a story with ‘when I was a boy.’ I’m afraid you’re going to be hearing that from me a lot.”
    “Don’t apologize,” she said. “Everybody’s story starts somewhere.”
    “Good point. But to the world at large, my own story is not that interesting.”
    “Everyone’s life is interesting,” she pointed out, “in its own way.”
    “Kind of you to say,” he agreed. “I’m sure you are no exception. I’m looking forward to getting to know you.”
    Claire said nothing. She kept her eyes on the road—a meandering, little-traveled country road leading to the small lakeside hamlet of Avalon.
    Which Claire would she show him, this kindly, doomed old man? The star nursing student? The single woman who kept no possessions, who lived her life from job to job? She wondered if he would see through her, recognizing the rootless individual hiding behind the thin veneer of a made-up life. Occasionally one of her patients discerned something just a bit “off” with her.
    Which was one reason she worked only with the terminally ill. A grim rationale, but at least she didn’t fool herself about it.
    “Trust me,” she said to George, “I’m not that interesting.”
    “You most certainly are,” he said. “Your career, for example. I find it a fascinating choice for a young woman. How did you get into this line of work, anyway?”
    She had a ready answer. “I’ve always liked taking care of people.”
    “But the dying, Claire? That’s got to get you down sometimes, eh?”
    “Maybe that’s why my clients are rich old bastards,” she said, keeping her expression deadpan.
    “Ha. I deserved that. Still, I’m curious. You’re a lovely, bright young woman. Makes me wonder…”
    She didn’t want him to wonder about her. She was a very private person, not as a matter of choice, but as a matter of life and death. She lived a life made up of lies that had no substance, and secrets she could never share. The things that were true about her were the shallow details, cocktail party fare, not that she got invited to cocktail parties. The person she was deep inside stayed hidden, and that was probably for the best. Who would want to know about the endless nights, when her loneliness was so deep and sharp she felt as though she’d been hollowed out? Who would want to know she was so starved for a human touch that sometimes her skin felt as if it were on fire? Who could understand the way she wished to crawl out of her skin and walk away?
    Back when she’d gone underground, she had saved her own life. But it wasn’t until much later that she’drealized the cost. It had been simple and exorbitant; she’d given up everything, even her identity.
    “Tell you what,” she said, “let’s keep the focus on you.”
    “I’ve never been able to resist a woman of mystery,” he declared. “I’ll find out if it kills me. It might just kill me.” His amusement wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Humor had its uses, even in this situation.
    “You have better things to do with your time than pry into my life, George. I’d rather hear about you, anyway. This summer is all about you.”
    “And you don’t find that depressing? Hanging around an old man, waiting for him to die?”
    “All kidding aside,” she said, “things will go a lot better if you decide to make this summer about your life, not about your death.”
    “My family thinks you’re not right for me.”
    “I guessed that when they called the police on us. Maybe I’m not right. We’ll see.”
    “So far, we’re getting along famously.” He paused. “Aren’t we?”
    “You just hired me. We’ve only been together for three days.”
    “Yes, but it’s been an intense three days,” he pointed out. “Including this long drive from the city. You can tell a lot about a person on a car trip. You and I are getting along fine.” Another pause. “You’re silent. You don’t agree?”
    Claire