BooksBarbecue
Back The Second Home Save as PDF
Chapters (47)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraphs
  5. Prologue
  6. Part One
  7. ONE
  8. TWO
  9. THREE
  10. FOUR
  11. FIVE
  12. SIX
  13. SEVEN
  14. EIGHT
  15. NINE
  16. TEN
  17. ELEVEN
  18. TWELVE
  19. THIRTEEN
  20. FOURTEEN
  21. FIFTEEN
  22. SIXTEEN
  23. SEVENTEEN
  24. Part Two
  25. EIGHTEEN
  26. NINETEEN
  27. TWENTY
  28. TWENTY-ONE
  29. TWENTY-TWO
  30. TWENTY-THREE
  31. TWENTY-FOUR
  32. TWENTY-FIVE
  33. TWENTY-SIX
  34. TWENTY-SEVEN
  35. TWENTY-EIGHT
  36. TWENTY-NINE
  37. THIRTY
  38. THIRTY-ONE
  39. THIRTY-TWO
  40. THIRTY-THREE
  41. THIRTY-FOUR
  42. THIRTY-FIVE
  43. THIRTY-SIX
  44. THIRTY-SEVEN
  45. Acknowledgments
  46. About the Author
  47. Newsletter Sign-up

Michael loved gardening, even the grunt work of spreading manure and mulch, moving stones and digging holes. He liked the feeling of having earned his fatigue at the end of the day. It was good to be outside, good to be in control, good to have Jason press a wad of cash in his hand at the end of the week, good to hear the girls make comments about him when he was on pruning duty in town and worked shirtless. Mostly, it was good to be on Cape Cod with Jason, who ended each day at Indian Neck, where he picked the ticks off his legs and went for a swim while Michael sat on the shore. He could swim now, but he only liked the ponds. He was almost too reverent about the ocean. It seemed too mysterious, too deep. It struck him that he felt the same way about Ann.

Jason kept a small cooler in the back of his truck and gave Michael a can of Sam Adams without concern that he was underage. The beer tasted good. They watched Flip chase the gulls.

“How about coming back here next summer?” Jason asked.

“I could come back here forever,” Michael said.

“Uh-oh.”

“What?”

“You’ve got sand in your shoes.”

The sun turned the water gold. The sailboats dotting the horizon chased the wind. It was perfect. Michael never wanted to leave.

EIGHT

Poppy

Poppy went back to the ocean again and again to meet up with Kit. She didn’t tell her parents she was surfing because they’d worry. She said she’d made a new friend at Long Pond and she was going to her house, although she had no idea where Kit lived.

Instead, she met up with Kit at her friends’ houses on the ocean side near Cahoon Hollow. Most of them lived on a private road marked with a tree trunk at the entrance covered in bright buoys and wooden planks with the names of the residences painted on them: Witt’s End, Lynch Lodge, Nolan’s Nook, Ma and Pa’s. The long, sandy drive led through the pine forest to the ocean, where their houses were low-slung, sleepy sixties-style shingled ranch homes with big windows overlooking the water. They all had some stylish variation on short leather couches, teak furniture, massive paintings, and rag rugs to catch the sand before it scuffed up the pine floors. Expensive, sporty cars sat in their driveways.