The Suite Spot (Beck Sisters #2)(57)

“That’s all I need to know,” she says.

“The yoga helps too,” I add, making her laugh.

“I don’t need to be the consolation prize.”



* * *



By dusk, the charcoal in the grill has burned down to a soft orange glow, and someone has built a fire in the pit. Mike and Owen break out boxes of bamboo sparklers for the kids. I hold my hand over Maisie’s as we touch the tip of her sparkler to one of the charcoal embers. She squeals with delight as the sparkler bursts into blue light and together we wave it around. Mali writes her name in the air. Lillie swishes her wrist like her sparkler is a fairy wand. James and John have a lightsaber duel. Keo holds five burning red sparklers at once, declaring himself a fire lord. Leo extends his sparkler to arm’s length and spins in a circle.

Maisie starts wearing down after eating a couple of toasted marshmallows, so I take her to the house for a nap. Her sleep pattern is going to be thrown off, but she’s never seen a fireworks display, and I don’t have the heart to deny her.

As I reach the bottom step, I notice Mason standing at the kitchen window that overlooks the dark, quiet side of the yard. I stand beside him, and he drops his arm around my shoulders.

“Hello, stranger,” I say. “You okay?”

“Mostly, but sometimes the memories come at me.”

“Today has been a lot. Do you want to skip the fireworks and chill while everyone else is gone?”

“Nah,” he says, kissing my temple. “That’s my favorite part.”

“I like your family.”

“They like you.”

“You’ve got your own little United Nations.”

Mason laughs. “True. Mike’s mom is Guyanese, and Didie’s parents came to the States from Laos. Dad always wants traditional picnic food on the Fourth of July, but the rest of our holiday meals are amazing. Just wait until Thanksgiving. You’ll see.”

I love the way he’s projected us months into the future, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Don’t want to get comfortable being this happy. “That sounds nice.”

“Are you okay?”

“I had some unnecessary drama with Brian earlier,” I say, not wanting to drag Mason into my domestic issues. But I can’t shake the feeling that there was more to that weird conversation than Brian wanting to have a friendly chat with Maisie.

“Gotcha,” Mason says. “And thinking about Thanksgiving is thinking too much.”

“Yeah.”

He faces me and rests his hand against my neck, his thumb stroking my cheek. “For the record, right here, right now, I would rather be with you than anyone in the whole world.”

“That’s a lot of people.”

“That’s what I’m saying.” The kiss he gives me is lingering and sweet. “We should probably rejoin the party, considering … it’s our party.”

Yōkai slinks into the room and jumps up onto the kitchen counter, something I’ve never seen her do. Even Mason looks surprised. She doesn’t rub herself against him—she hasn’t come close to that level of affection yet—but stares until he offers her a treat.

Outside, James, John, and Keo have graduated to setting off firecrackers, and I wonder out loud if we should confiscate them.

“It’s a rite of passage,” Mason says. “When Owen and I were their age, Dad gave us bottle rockets to keep us busy until the fireworks display.”

We rejoin the rest of the Brown family around the firepit, where they’re gathered in chairs, sharing family stories and laughing. Except for Avery and Daniel, the rest of the locals have gone home.

I take a seat beside Mason’s mother, who leans over and places her hand on top of mine. “He showed me the sunshine beer. I pretended to be so surprised.”

I laugh. “Did you taste it?”

“Oh yes,” she says. “I like it very much, but I like your hibiscus beer better.”

“This is the first Fourth of July I haven’t had to work.” I tell her about the all-night barbecue at Aquamarine. “Guests would go watch the fireworks on South Beach, and when they’d get back to the hotel, there would be a grill loaded with Kobe burgers and steaks, and a full bar until sunrise. Because I worked nights, I was never home to watch fireworks with my family.”

“And are you having fun?”

“I am,” I say. “Next year I might try to cook something.”

“After we moved from Japan, David brought me to the island for my first Fourth of July,” Yōko says. “If you haven’t noticed, Kelleys Island is very white, so some people were scandalized that David Brown had married an Asian girl.”

“I would believe that.”

“It wasn’t long after the war in Vietnam, so I kept having to explain that I wasn’t Vietnamese. And one old man kept shouting at me because he thought I didn’t understand English.”

“Yikes.”

She nods. “Most people were polite, if not nice, and we watched the fireworks on the same porch we’ll be watching from tonight. Except back then, Fred Rose’s father owned the house.”

“The roots go deep here, don’t they?”

“They certainly do,” she says. “And it can take time for the islanders to warm up to new things. Rosemary Walcott helped break the ice.”