Summer Harbor Read Free

had always been her place of refuge. When schoolwork or arguments with her parents or spats with girlfriends made Southton oppressive, she would think of Hawke’s Cove, of the predictable routine of beach and reading on the porch, or the scent of damp air and hot sand. The peace that comes with being in the place you are the most happy. The fellowship of Mack and Grainger.
    An early sparrow began to cheep outside the bedroom window, a distant reply.
    More than any other place in the world, Hawke’s Cove represented sanctuary. Her middle-of-the-night thoughts about Will tormented her; could time in Hawke’s Cove serve to repair the damage done to her trust? Just letting herself think about being there comforted Kiley. Not for any other reason could she imagine returning, not because her parents wanted her to, or even for herself, but for Will’s sake.
    “Will, I think maybe that we should go to Hawke’s Cove.”
    Will sat up and pulled away from her, his eyes glittering with spent tears in the strengthening light of day. “I thought you wouldn’t go.”
    “I don’t want to, but I think that we need the distraction.”
    Will pulled away from her arms, a rapid, flat-palmed rub of his eyes wiping away the small boy who’d just been there. His jaw flexed. “You know I won’t do it again; I promise. Swear to God.”
    Kiley took the corner of the sheet and wiped her own tears. “So you’re promising to keep away from D.C. and Mike? All summer?”
    There was exactly enough hesitation in Will’s answer. “It wasn’t their fault. I mean, it was my choice, I did it. No one put a gun to my head.”
    “You bought it?”
    “No. I just smoked it.”
    “If I take the car away from you, you can’t work. You’re too old to ground, and I don’t want to spend the last summer we’re together worrying every night that, deliberately or not, you’re in the wrong company.”
    “Don’t you trust me?”
    Kiley looked away from him to the yellowing light bordering the drawn shade as if she could read her answer written there. Over the years, parenting had taught her to temper her words. She knew that harsh words, even justifiably provoked, could be soul-breaking to young ears. Reprimands were always based on anger at behavior, not at him. Never ad hominem , always a little retractable. Until this minute, when there were no words for how betrayed she felt. He had done the one thing they had discussed and agreed on time and again. If he could fail her so easily in this, would mere words repair the damage? Talk, as her mother often said, is cheap.
    “No, Will. Frankly, I don’t.”
    Will stood up and gathered his dignity around him. “I really am sorry, Mom. I know that I screwed up. It was a mistake in judgment, but, whether you believe me or not, it won’t happen again. It was stupid.”
    “So why did you do it?”
    “I can’t tell you.”
    Echoes of her own words nineteen years before. I can’t tell you. She understood that there were times when it was enough to admit error, if not the reason.
    “I understand why you might not believe me when I say I won’t ever do it again, but taking me away won’t give me the chance to show you that you can trust me.” Will’s voice had taken on his most reasonable tone, the voice he used to convince her to give him permission to do something against her better judgment. Like letting him attend that unchaperoned party at Lori’s.
    “Going away will give us both a little distance from this incident, Will. We need that.” Kiley hoped he didn’t see that she was convincing herself with her words.
    “So, if we go, how long do we stay?” Will’s tone verged on curious as he capitulated.
    “I’m not sure. A couple of weeks, three maybe.” Kiley threw back the bedclothes and sat on the edge of the bed. Sleep was out of the question. “I have a month coming to me, and July is a good time to go. The doctor is taking his vacation then, so things will be slow at the office.”