Dinah went back to her chair.

  Together Eddie and Dinah watched women of all ages step out of their vehicles. They wore full-press makeup and frilly sundresses. They tittered and giggled as they approached the barn.

  “They’re here to see you,” Eddie whispered.

  “Of course,” Dinah said.

  The women, glowing with expectation, went straight to Dinah, and she did not disappoint. As Eddie watched, it seemed that a light went on inside Dinah. If it was the readers’ dream to meet their favorite romance writer, it was Dinah’s dream to meet the women who read her books. They chatted and laughed and browsed through Dinah’s books, and Dinah bent her head over the table and signed books with a lavender flourish.

  A white delivery van pulled up next to the cars. A man stepped out with an enormous bouquet of lilacs, iris, and pale purple tulips.

  “Is Dinah Lavender here?” he asked.

  “Right here,” Dinah said.

  The man brought the bouquet, already thoughtfully placed in a vase of water, to Dinah’s table. The women sighed with delight and snapped photos on their phones.

  “Thank you,” Dinah said. “Have a book for your wife.”

  “Oh, I’m not married,” the deliveryman told her.

  Dinah didn’t miss a beat. “Give this book to your girlfriend and you will be.” She handed the man a book. “I’ve included a special bookmark. Thank you so much for driving all the way out here.”

  The man glanced at the book with a fifty-dollar bill tucked inside.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Wow.”

  Eddie left her post to help Dinah place the flowers on the low table between the two leather chairs. The bouquet was so huge, it would have hidden Dinah’s face.

  “You didn’t have to give him fifty dollars,” Eddie whispered to Dinah.

  “Publicity,” Dinah whispered back, and winked.

  Dinah removed the gift card from the flowers. She opened it, glowed, and whispered, “Oh, my. Eddie, look who sent me flowers.”

  Eddie leaned over Dinah’s shoulder. The card read Love, your secret admirer.

  “Who is that?” Eddie asked, afraid it was Dinah’s stalker.

  “It’s fine. I’ll tell you later,” Dinah told her. She tucked the card into her bosom and turned to smile at her readers.

  By noon, the Book Barn was full of customers, mostly women and children, but a few men, too. Sales were brisk, but quarters and one-dollar bills didn’t add up to a fortune. Still, Eddie thought, as Dinah had reminded her, the important thing was that they were clearing out the towers of books.

  By early afternoon, the rush was over. The summer people were at the beach. The year-rounders were working.

  After twenty minutes of no customers, Eddie wandered over to Dinah.

  “Could you stay here for ten more minutes while I run into the house and make a sandwich? Then I’ll take over for the next few hours and you can write or do whatever you want.”

  “Of course.” Dinah rose. “Take your time. I’ll wander around and straighten the shelves.”

  “Thanks. Want me to bring you a sandwich?”

  “No, but a glass of iced tea would be lovely.”

  “Before I go,” Eddie said, “who sent the flowers?”

  Dinah twinkled. “I did.”

  “You did? Okay, but how? If you’d used your phone or email, the florist would know you were the one ordering them.”

  “I asked Paul if I could borrow his phone. He let me use his credit card, and I reimbursed him in cash.”

  “That’s wild, Dinah! Pretty clever.”

  “I have my ways,” Dinah said, and winked.

  Eddie grinned. She went into the house, used the bathroom, stretched her arms, and headed for the kitchen. She took out a bottle of sparkling water, tilted her head back, and drank deeply. She took out the pitcher of iced tea and found their summer plastic glasses.

  Her father came into the kitchen. “I see you’ve had some customers.”

  Eddie snorted. “Yeah, Dad, we’ve already made thirty dollars and fifty cents.” She set the pastel glasses and the pitcher on a tray.

  “That’s actually more than I thought you’d make,” William said.

  “And we’ve only started!” She picked up the tray and handed it to her father. “Would you carry it out for me? It’s heavy.”

  To her surprise, William froze. It was as if he’d forgotten how to walk. He wore an expression she had never seen on her father before and it took her a few seconds to name it.

  Was her father actually shy?

  During the weeks Dinah had been here, William had never spent much time around her. He’d become even more of a hermit, tucked away in his study or slipping out the front door to his car and driving away. Of course, the entire household was coming and going, but still…

  Was it possible that her father had a crush on Dinah? Why hadn’t Eddie realized this was possible? Dinah was a gorgeous woman and Eddie’s father was a living, breathing man.

  “Come on, Dad,” Eddie said. “Let’s go out and enjoy the day. The humidity is low for once, and it’s cool inside the barn.” Was she babbling? Eddie felt the urge to laugh hysterically, but managed to tamp it down.

  She held the kitchen door open for her father as he walked out on to the porch and down the steps and over the lawn to the barn.

  Dinah was putting more of her books on the shelf. She turned and saw Eddie’s father.

  “Oh, William,” she gushed. “You’ve brought tea. How marvelous!”

  “Here, Dad,” Eddie directed. “Put the tray on the table. Sit in that nice old leather chair.”

  “I’m not staying,” William replied, bending to set the tray down. “I’ve got work to do.”

  “Oh, please stay,” Dinah said. “I’ve been wanting to talk with you about your book.”

  William perched on the edge of the chair. “I don’t think my book would be interesting to you. It’s a critical exploration of the British Romantic poets.”

  “Yes, Eddie told me.” Dinah poured a glass of tea and handed it to William as she quoted, “And there I shut her wild wild eyes with kisses four.”

  What? Eddie wondered if Dinah had lost it.

  Her father cleared his throat. “I admit I’m surprised that you know Keats.”

  Dinah poured another glass and handed it to Eddie, who was leaning against a book bin, silent with shock.

  “How could I not know ‘La Belle Dame Sans Merci’?” Dinah sank down in the other leather chair and crossed her long legs. “I write romantic novels.”

  William spoke with his eyes pointed at his tea, as if unwilling to face Dinah. “Yes. Your books are called romance novels, but they’re different from what I write. Your books, for example, have a wide audience.”

  “That’s true,” Dinah said sweetly. “I have hundreds of thousands of readers.”

  William’s face went pink. “My book isn’t meant for so many people. It’s based on research. It’s meant to be intellectually stimulating.”

  “I see.” Dinah’s words were honey-covered as she asked, “Whereas my books are physically stimulating?”

  William’s face went red. “I couldn’t say,” he replied. “I’ve never read one.”

  Dinah lit up like the sky on the Fourth of July. “Oh, William, I’d love it if you’d read one of my books. And I’d love to read yours!”

  At those words, all color drained out of William’s face. Good grief, Eddie thought, is he having a heart attack?

  “I-I-I don’t think it’s ready for anyone else to read.” He stood up. “Um, nice talking to you.” Without looking at Dinah again, he stalked toward the house.

  After he entered the house, Eddie said, “Dinah, I don’t think he meant to insult you.”

  Dinah smiled. “I didn’t take it as an insult at all.”

  Before Eddie could reply, a car pulled into the driveway and four women got out. They hurried toward Dinah. Dinah returned to her signing table and chatted with the women.

  Eddie took out her phone and called Barrett.

  * * *

  —

  When Eddie called, Barrett was laughing with Janny about a TikTok of a cat stealing a dog’s food bowl.

  “I’d better take this,” Barrett told Janny.

  She slipped into the back room and answered. “What’s up?”

  “I think Dad has a crush on Dinah,” Eddie whispered.

  Barrett laughed. “Why do you sound worried?” She heard her shop door open as someone entered.

  “Because, Barrett, Dad is Dad and Dinah is Dinah.”

  “Right. Dinah is gorgeous and Dad is handsome. What’s the problem?”

  “Dad was nervous in the barn today. Dinah plays with men like a cat with a mouse. She’s going to seduce and abandon him and break Dad’s heart.”

  Barrett heard voices and peeked around the corner to see if Janny was helping the customer. To her surprise, the man who walked in was Paul. He’d changed out of his sweaty work clothes into a classy striped button-down shirt and chinos.

  “Barrett?” Eddie asked. “Are you there?”

  “Give me a moment,” Barrett said into her phone. She leaned against the wall, listening, wondering why Paul had come in. She heard Janny’s sweet welcoming voice.

  “Hi! I’m Janny. Barrett’s new assistant.”

  “Hi, Janny. I’m a friend of Barrett’s. I brought some of my mom’s chocolate pecan cookies. I thought Barrett might enjoy them.”

  “Oooh,” Janny cooed. “Those look delicious.”

  “Help yourself,” Paul said. “I’m Paul Folger. I helped Jeff build a bookstore out in the family’s barn.”

  “I know. Barrett’s told me all about it. I hope it works out for them. Mmmm, these cookies are mouthwatering.”

  “Barrett?” Eddie called.

  With effort, Barrett pulled her attention away from Paul and Janny. “Still here. But listen, I’ve got a customer. Let’s talk about it when I get home. Don’t worry so much.”

  Barrett ended the call and stepped into the front room. “Paul! Hi, sweetie.” She went around the counter and kissed his cheek. Paul was surprised by the kiss. Actually, so was Barrett.

  “Paul’s mother made these delicious cookies,” Janny said, holding out the plate as if it belonged to her.

  “Wow. Thanks.” Barrett nibbled a bite. “So good. Paul, I should be bringing you cookies. I can’t thank you enough for the quarterboard.”

  “It looks great. Listen, I was wondering—”

  Barrett’s phone buzzed. “Sorry, I have to take this. Crisis at home.”

  She returned to the back room and answered. “Is everything okay?”

  To her surprise, Drew was speaking. “I certainly hope so.”

  “Oh! Sorry. Hi.” Barrett was torn, wanting to talk with Drew, and oddly wanting Janny to leave Paul alone.

  “I’m coming to the island Saturday. Could I take you out to dinner? I know your shop is open, but maybe Janny can handle it. She’s working out okay, right?”

  From the other room came the sound of Janny and Paul laughing.

  Why was Janny’s laugh so irritating?

  Barrett concentrated on Drew’s voice. “Yes, Janny’s great. And yes, I’d love to go out to dinner with you Saturday night.”

  “Cool. I’ll call you when I get there.” He paused.

  “Oh. Good.”

  “I can’t wait to see you,” Drew said.

  Now she had to say something. “Me, too.”

  Barrett slid her phone into her pocket and returned to the showroom. No customers, only Janny and Paul leaning over the counter to talk.

  Was Janny flirting with Paul?

  Why should she care? After all, Paul was just a friend. So why did Barrett suddenly feel possessive of Paul? What was wrong with her? A moment ago, she’d been on the phone flirting with Drew. How many emotions could a person have in three seconds?

  How many men could she like at the same time?

  Whatever. Barrett gently elbowed Janny so she could lean on the counter, too. “Paul, thanks for the cookies. Tell your mother we love them!”

  “Will do.” Paul winked at Barrett and left the shop.

  “Was that my brother who called you?” Janny asked.

  Barrett was recovering from the wink. “It was.”

  Janny folded tissue into a bag, ready for the next customer. Carelessly, she asked, “Do you like Paul? I thought you liked my brother?”

  Barrett answered evasively, “Who wouldn’t like your gorgeous brother?”

  Before Janny could answer, two women came in. Barrett had babysat for both their children years ago, and she was glad to see them again.

  “Cath! Rosalind! How are you?”

  “We wanted to check out your shop,” Cath said. “It’s absolutely dreamy.”

  Barrett chatted with them as an older man came in and spoke with Janny about a blue sweater. Now the small shop was crowded. Two more customers came in, and as she helped them, she forgot about men and lust and romance. Well, she almost forgot.

  * * *

  —

  Barrett made a plan to talk to their father that evening. She brought pizza home even though it was after nine o’clock, so her sister and father had probably had their evening meal, but who could resist a slice of pizza no matter the time of day?

  Eddie had been watching for her. She held the door open as Barrett carried the unwieldy pizza box inside. While Barrett set plates around the kitchen table and took three beers from the refrigerator, Eddie went into their father’s study and talked him into joining them.

  It was a comforting, bonding few moments as the three settled into their normal places and sipped their beers and took their first glorious bites of pizza.

  “Dad, we need to talk,” Eddie began. “Dinah has gone to dinner with friends. She won’t be home until midnight, probably, so we can speak openly. Dad, is something bothering you?”

  William hesitated. “I suppose I’m not happy about the Book Barn.”

  Barrett spoke up. “Dad, look around. Haven’t you noticed how much more space there is in the hall now that some books have gone? Before we took them out, we couldn’t put on a coat without knocking over a pile of books. Now we can actually see the table with the bowl where we put the mail.”

  “And the mirror, so we can do a last-minute check of our hair,” Eddie added. “Dad,” Eddie said, putting her hand on his. “We won’t ever take out books that are important to you. It’s just that over the years, all of us, Mom and Stearns included, brought books into the house and no one needs them.”

  “A lot of them are outdated,” Barrett added. “I miss Mom and Stearns as much as you do, but honestly, Dad, there’s an absolute wall of books in the upstairs hall that are all about coding on computers, and not only can we not code, these books are already obsolete. Stearns would throw them out if he were here.”

  Eddie took up the argument. “And the den is still piled with boxes of Mom’s woo-woo séance, Tarot, spiritualist, fortune-telling stuff. She had three different Ouija boards! We’ve been checking every single item in her boxes, and honestly, we have no idea why you bothered to bring them here to Nantucket.”

  Barrett continued, more softly, “Dad, I’ve met a really nice man. I think you’d like him. I want to bring him home. I’d like to invite him to dinner. But our house still looks cluttered and hoardy. We don’t want to get rid of all the books. But maybe thirty percent of what is left.”

  Eddie knew how much her father hated statistics. “We’re living in such a beautiful place. You were the one who moved us here. You wanted to start over.”

  “I suppose,” he conceded.

  “And about Dinah,” Eddie said, sweetening her voice. “Does she make you feel uncomfortable?”

  William gave a half-hearted grin. “ ‘Uncomfortable’ isn’t the right word. She’s so—much.”

  “She is,” Barrett agreed.

  “Our worlds are so different,” William admitted. “People bought so many books of hers and I haven’t even finished writing mine. I can’t compete with her.”

  “Dad, you don’t have to compete with her. And you and Dinah are more alike than you realize. You both need time in isolation to write. Plus, you’re strong, Dad, but Dinah’s fragile. This house, our family, are her safe harbor.”

  William ran his hand through his thick sandy hair. “I take your point, Eddie, that we do have some things in common. But the truth is, Dinah’ s rich and famous, and I’m a struggling intellectual.”

  “Daddy, that’s crazy,” Eddie said. “You two write for different audiences. Plus, you have two fabulous daughters, and a farm—”

  Barrett cut in, “And a Duke and a Duchess living on the farm.”

  That brought a smile to William’s face. “You’re right. I’ll try to be less…”

  “Defensive?” Eddie suggested.

  “Attractive?” Barrett said teasingly. She stood up, kissed her father on the forehead, and put her plate in the dishwasher. “I’m exhausted, and tomorrow will be busy. I’m going to bed.”

  William stood up and checked his watch. “I’m off to bed, too.”

  Eddie said, “I’ll just tidy the kitchen. Good night, family.”

  “Good night, Johnboy,” William said.

  His daughters glanced at each other. They never had understood why their father said good night to Johnboy. They’d decided it must be something from Wordsworth.

  * * *

  —

  Eddie showered, slipped on a clean T-shirt and leggings, and settled herself in bed with both pillows behind her. She lifted her journal from the drawer in her bedside table, chose a pen from the cup holder she’d made in seventh grade, and took a deep breath.