Summer Harbor by Susan Wilson

Author:Susan Wilson [Wilson, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atria Books
Published: 2003-11-02T17:00:00+00:00

Twenty

The next morning, Kiley flattened The Boston Globe out on the kitchen table to look at the want ads. There were a fair number of nurse practitioner positions open, all in the greater Boston area; too far from Southton to commute to daily. Her local hospital was always on the brink of financial collapse, and she knew that the staffing was bare-bones. Maybe she could get a studio apartment in Boston and do three twelve-hour days. She could be home the rest of the time. Kiley leaned her elbows on the paper and rested her forehead on her clenched hands. Come on, it’s time to live large. Will would be in Ithaca. What was holding her to Southton except her parents? And she’d be home four days out of seven. When Will came home for semester break, they could do Boston properly, without the mad rush to get home. Museums, the theater. Fine dining.

Kiley folded the paper and crammed it into the wastebasket. She had time, and so much else held her attention; she just couldn’t focus on job hunting too. Sandy had called again this morning to tell her that everyone in the office had been given three months’ pay—a short reprieve from having to make a hasty decision. Will was right; it was time to try something new. Maybe she’d even get out of the medical profession and do something completely different.

Kiley went out to the front porch and sat down in one of the rocking chairs. Out in the wide cove, sailboats glided across the water. Will might be in one of them. Kiley wasn’t sure how she felt about it. On the one hand, she was quietly pleased that he wanted to learn how to sail; on the other, aware that he would probably badger Grainger for more of the story. What would Grainger tell him?

He still hadn’t called her back. If he didn’t want the business, he shouldn’t have told her to call him. She wasn’t going to try again. He’d backed off so quickly from her yesterday it was pretty clear he didn’t want anything to do with her. She should just leave him alone.

Kiley thumped her hand against the rocking chair arm. She hadn’t tagged the rockers yet. Wherever would she put them at home? They were too big for a living room, and her parents’ sunporch, with its white wicker, was all wrong for the painted chairs. She stroked the flat arm of the rocker and picked at its chipped paint. They needed painting; where it wasn’t chipped, the green paint was powdered.

Now that she had been here for a while, Kiley could see that everything wasn’t exactly like she remembered: everything was old and worn, and the warmth of their familiarity had gone. These objects had entered her present, and the luster of their existence in her memory was dimmed. Now she looked at these objects dispassionately. Just as she should look at Grainger Egan. Heaving a dramatic sigh, Kiley got up to call him again.

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