Until now.

Chapter 2

THE BEST ONE YET

“Grammy!” I call, running down our stairs. “Are you almost ready?”

She’s in her work uniform, hanging over her jigsaw puzzle. She presses a piece in. “I know you have ants in your pants because Brandy is back at Seaside,” she says, standing. “No ants in my pants, though. Another season of cleaning all of those guest cottages.” Her hand pats the side of my cheek. “Now, run and get our lunches from the fridge. And don’t forget our favorite root beers.”

I’m to the kitchen and back in three seconds. “Okay. Let’s go!”

We slide into the car. As always, she makes a cross on the dashboard with her finger, looks up through the windshield at the sky, and says a prayer for the car to start. When it does, she pats the dashboard again. “That’s a good Darlin’. Starting for your ole Bridget.”

She puts it in Drive. “You think it’s weird I talk to the car?”

“Only if you think it answers,” I say.

She coughs as she laughs. “You hung the moon, you know that?”

That’s one of Grammy’s best compliments.

At the first stop sign, she looks over at me. “You’re like a tick about ready to pop,” she says. “Excited to see Brandy, I know.”

“I am so excited. But a tick ready to pop? Gross . . . No . . . Ew.”

“I’ll never understand how a girl who loves tornadoes and hurricanes and floods could be scared of a little tick.”

“The weather doesn’t suck your blood,” I say, expecting her to have a comeback, but she just shakes her head.

She flips her turn signal. “So, you talked to Brandy? She and her family staying for the summer as usual?”

“Yeah. She and her mom, anyway.”

“Oh my goodness, I remember the day you two first met,” Grammy says, falling back against the car seat. “Her mom was sweet enough to watch you on a day I had no choice but to bring you along. And you and Brandy, as little as you were, sat side by side in one of those big Adirondack chairs. You’ve been like peanut butter and jelly ever since.”

I laugh. “Grammy. Who wants to be like peanut butter and jelly? That never ends well. For them, anyway.”

Grammy shakes her head again as she pulls into a parking spot, and I turn. “Can I go?”

“Yes, but for heaven’s sake, look both ways.”

As soon as my foot hits the red sidewalk leading into Seaside, I hear Brandy. “Dels!” she calls as she leaps from a picnic table. The place already reeks like sunscreen and burning charcoal, even though it’s barely nine o’clock. Summer has officially arrived.

I race across the grass, and we hug and jump around. “Oh my gosh! How are you?” she asks. “I’m soooo happy to see you.” Then she steps back. “Wow, Dels. You got tall this year.”