The Suite Spot (Beck Sisters #2)(30)

“Do you need a ride?”

“You’re a dear for asking, but I only live a few houses down.”

The book club members trickle slowly home until it’s just Avery and me, cleaning up the mess. She doesn’t send me home when I offer to help, and I appreciate the honesty. When the dishes are washed and her dining room is a dining room again, we pour some wine and sit in the yellow Adirondack chairs on her front porch.

“I covet these chairs,” I say as she lights up a small joint and takes a long drag. “I have some like them on a Pinterest board for my someday house.”

She offers me the joint. For years I’ve been the responsible one while Brian has smoked weed, played video games, and generally acted the fool. But tonight Maisie is happy and safe, so I don’t overthink it. I take only a small hit, though.

“Look,” Avery says. “I’ve seen Mason’s place. All you need to do is tell him what you want and let him pay for it. He’s not going to complain when his house stops looking like the front window display of a thrift store.”

“What if he hates it? Or starts dating someone who hates it?”

She cracks up laughing. “Where is Mason going to meet someone to date? He never leaves the brewery. He’s like … Miss Havisham. Which is why I’d hoped maybe the two of you might—”

“My sister lost her fiancé to suicide a couple of years ago,” I interrupt, not wanting to go down that road. “I used to get so irritated with her because it seemed like she wanted to be miserable. Until one day when she packed up everything she owned, moved onto their sailboat, and left. I was so mad because I thought it was a selfish thing to do. But she got better because she was ready to get better. Mason will too.”

Avery sighs. “I know.”

“But I’ll see what I can do about getting rid of that hideous couch.”

“Hey, do you want to spend the night? We have a guest room.”

“I’d say yes, but I also love the idea of sleeping all night in my own bed knowing Maisie will not be there when I wake up.”

She laughs. “I don’t remember the last time Daniel and I slept without Leo. He’s the best birth control.”

“Thanks for inviting me to book club.”

“You’re welcome,” Avery says. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. And I hope you don’t mind that I basically forced you to be my best friend.”

I nudge her elbow with mine. “I can think of worse things to be.”



* * *



It’s nearly eleven by the time I get back to the house. I’m not wasted or stoned, but I’m feeling just tipsy enough to want to look at the sky. I lie back on the grass and watch the stars grow denser as my eyes adjust to the darkness. After a bit, I hear the creak of the screen door and Mason’s footsteps on the stairs. He lowers himself down beside me, not so close that we’re in danger of touching, but not so far away that I’m not extremely aware of his body next to mine. “This is the time of year we start getting ticks, so you might want to consider spreading a blanket or—”

“Or maybe you could buy some chairs.”

“Or that,” he says quietly. “How was your night?”

“I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

“Must have been a wild time.”

“It was a good fun,” I say, teasing him about his earlier word gaffe.

Mason groans. “You’re fired.”

Laughing, I take my phone from my pocket and use the night sky app to identify the constellations. Leo. Virgo. Both the Ursas. The planet Venus is particularly bright. “Speaking of wild times, Rosemary tells me you were quite the feral child.”

“Pretty much,” he says. “There was a whole gang of us—including Avery’s husband, Daniel—and we built tree forts in the woods. Rode our bikes to the beach and stole grapes from the vineyard. Pulled pranks on the kids at the 4-H camp. And went swimming in the quarry even though it was strictly off-limits. Our parents never had to worry, though, because we always turned up in time for dinner.”

“Sounds idyllic.”

“It was,” Mason says. “And even though my family lived in Cleveland the rest of the year, coming to Kelleys for the summer always felt like coming home.”

“Is it too late to turn the cabins into tree houses?”

He laughs. “I’ve already considered it, but beer plus rope bridges equals a liability nightmare.”

“Good point.”

“Thanks for dinner, by the way.”

“You’re welcome,” I say, tucking my phone back into my pocket. “You know, Avery is kind of worried about you. She calls you Miss Havisham.”

“Havisham? I’d say I’m more Boo Radley.”

“She thinks you spend too much time alone in the brewery, and that your house looks like a thrift store.”

“Well, she’s not wrong.”

“People on the island care about you,” I say. “You should probably check in with them occasionally. And … on that note, I will return to minding my own business.”

“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. It’s just—never mind.” He gets to his feet and the spot where he was lying feels conspicuously cold. “Night.”