Summer Island Book Club - Ciara Knight Page 0,2

to show Bri how well she was doing and lift up her daughter so that she could go back to her own life. For now, though, she’d give her some space until she was ready to talk about what had brought her home, beyond caring for her widowed mother.

Bri hugged her tight and then released her, turning away and eyeing the pile of old clothes in the corner. “We’ll start tomorrow so we can get this place ready for you to create again. I always love watching how you take crazy and make it beautiful.”

Julie froze. That was a saying she used to hear often years ago, but Bri wouldn’t know about that. She’d never met her childhood friends. Sure she knew about them and the mischievous activities of Julie’s youth with her BFFs, but she wouldn’t know that saying. A coincidence. It had to be. “Let’s go inside and get some dinner and chat about what’s going on in your life.”

Bri glanced around the space one more time. Julie knew she couldn’t get rid of anything, not now, not ever, not when it was all she had left of Joe and their lives together. But that was a problem for another day, so she flipped off the light and closed the door.

“Nice deflection, but okay, I’m game to focus on me for a few. I’ve got some news to tell you anyway.”

“What’s that?” Julie knew her daughter had been dating a boy for almost a year, but she had yet to meet him. Her daughter had sworn it was nothing serious, but perhaps something had changed. Bri had never even mentioned marriage, perhaps because Julie always warned her against getting married too young. Now that Bri was over thirty, Julie worried she’d warned her one too many times, but she’d always wanted more for her daughter than what she and Joe had together in their lives.

“Nope. Not now. Over dinner. Come on. It’s been forever since we’ve cooked. What shall it be? A soup made of anything we can find in the fridge and cabinet, or an anything taco?” Bri took Julie’s hand and guided her away from the storage of souvenirs of a past life and into the home of memories.

“Was I always so scattered in life? I hoped that your dad’s sensible, more organized side balanced your upbringing.” Guilt pinched her like a crab, quick and unexpected.

Bri removed a bunch of veggies from the hanging basket in the kitchen and tossed them on top of the cutting board Joe made that Julie had etched a recipe into. They’d worked well together all those years. Best friends for life, they’d always said. Not big on romance, but the partnership was there.

“Mom, I was lucky to have you both. When I went away to college and I was chatting with all those northern folks in Georgia, I realized how unique a life I’ve had. It made me appreciate this place even more. And as for you? Ha, perfect. You made life fun and exciting and unpredictable, while Dad made it safe and, to be honest, a little boring.” Bri retrieved some more vegetables from the crisper in the old white fridge. “Not that I’m complaining about Dad. Boring is good sometimes. I grew up calm, well-adjusted, and loved. I only wish I had your talent.”

Warmth like a summer breeze flittered over Julie’s skin through the open window above the kitchen sink. “You do, darling, and more.” She tucked Brianna’s ringlet brown curls behind her ear, admiring the thickness and wildness of her hair. “Is everything okay? I’m here for you if you need anything.”

“I know, Mom. You’re always there for everyone else. I heard from the Small-Town Salty Breeze line that you painted Nancy Watermore’s fence, made and delivered food to Cranky Mannie, and cut Old Lady Francie’s yard. All last week.”

“Please. The STSB line has been dead for years.”

“No, it’s alive and well, and I’m still connected, even from over five hundred miles away.” Bri peeled the onion and minced it with precision. Then diced some green peppers and mushrooms.

“Is that why you quit your job and came home?” Apparently, Julie couldn’t hold in her mothering too long.

“Hand me that onion.” Bri pointed, ignoring her mother’s question.

Julie leaned against the counter and watched her daughter create an amazing meal without a recipe. “Hon, you can tell me anything.”

“I know, Mom, and I will when I’m ready.” Brianna poured some coconut oil into the pan along with the fresh