Back A Week at the Shore
Chapters (37)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Prologue
  5. Chapter 1
  6. Chapter 2
  7. Chapter 3
  8. Chapter 4
  9. Chapter 5
  10. Chapter 6
  11. Chapter 7
  12. Chapter 8
  13. Chapter 9
  14. Chapter 10
  15. Chapter 11
  16. Chapter 12
  17. Chapter 13
  18. Chapter 14
  19. Chapter 15
  20. Chapter 16
  21. Chapter 17
  22. Chapter 18
  23. Chapter 19
  24. Chapter 20
  25. Chapter 21
  26. Chapter 22
  27. Chapter 23
  28. Chapter 24
  29. Chapter 25
  30. Chapter 26
  31. Chapter 27
  32. Chapter 28
  33. Chapter 29
  34. Chapter 30
  35. Also by Barbara Delinsky
  36. About the Author
  37. Newsletter Sign-up

Had he recovered from that little kiss? If so, he was stronger than me. The sweet salt air has stabilized me, but arousal is still just a thought away. Consciously pushing it farther, I ask, “But does he? He’s been consistent from the start. He was fighting to control the boat in a squall, and when he looked back, she was gone. You want to blame him—”

“—but I can’t. I accept that. Something was going on with my mother. I just wish your father could explain it.”

“I’ll keep asking.”

“But you’re only here a week. What if that isn’t enough? What if he doesn’t say anything? Will you still run away to New York?”

I shoot him a warning look. “Careful, Jack. If I run to New York, it’s to my home. My life is there. My daughter’s life is there. I cleared things to come here for a week, but next Saturday is booked. I have people lined up. If I’m not back, the realtors I work with will go elsewhere.”

“No loyalty?” he asks, part inquiry, part scorn.

But I understand my clients. Many have become friends. “It’s about the bottom line. I work with high-end realtors who have high-end clients. They want results and they want them now. Besides, I love what I do.”

“It shows. Your pictures are top-notch. I love what you do.”

Closing my eyes, I drop my chin to my chest. “You’re not helping.”

“Only because you don’t want to hear what I’m saying,” he insists. “You’ve stayed in New York all these years because no one was arguing against it. You choose to raise Joy there because being alone means you’re the one in control. You grew up trying to please everyone else, but when you’re there, there’s no one to please but you and Joy. The decisions are yours.”

Of all the things I’ve considered, even discussed with Chrissie, the idea that I chose New York for that reason isn’t one. I never thought of myself as controlling. Never thought of myself as wanting to be.

“Didn’t consider that?” he asks. “Not in twenty years?”

I don’t take offense. He’s overlooking one major factor. “I wasn’t exactly sitting around doing nothing. I made a home for myself. I built a career. I made friends. I raised a child.”

“An amazing child.”