Secrets in Summer(57)

In the middle of all this, Willow arrived. Darcy had spoken to Beverly about hiring Willow on an informal part-time basis; Beverly said she’d run it by the director of the library, but until then, to pay the girl fifteen dollars an hour and take it out of petty cash. While Darcy did one story hour, Willow sat at the back, watching, her eyes bright with excitement. Darcy had a chance to say only a few words to Willow before her work phone rang and Beverly, rushing out of the office on her way to an appointment, handed Darcy a pile of forms to deal with before the end of the day.

Walking home, she caught a call from Nash.

“How did we ever live before cellphones?” she asked.

Nash laughed. Darcy loved his laugh, a nice easy low rumble. “We probably moved more slowly and had better concentration. On the other hand, this nice piece of haddock Karl gave me wouldn’t be as fresh when it was cooked.”

“Want to bring it to my house?”

“No, I think I’d like to grill it here. I’ve got some new potatoes, too. You could bring over a few of those green things you insist on eating.”

“Vegetables,” Darcy said, knowing Nash liked vegetables as much as she did, except for kale and spinach, which he said made him gag. “I’ll bring a big salad. Do you have wine?”

“I do. White and red and, yes, I know white is supposed to be eaten with fish, but you’ve been on a tear recently about drinking red because it’s got antioxidants, so I bought both kinds.”

Darcy smiled. It was very nice to have someone remember what you liked to drink. “I’ll be over as soon as I can get there.”

She knew Nash lived in an apartment over a garage, but this would be the first time she’d been there. She was excited. She’d find out more about this man—was he a slob, was his place all giant-screen TV and video games, what did he keep in his fridge? Plus, his invitation seemed to indicate a deeper level of intimacy. He’d been in her house a lot, and in her bed a lot, but she’d never been in his. Would the sheets be clean?

Nash lived on Meadowview Drive, a long curling lane of homes with big yards and mature trees. She parked in the driveway behind his truck. The house itself had that closed-up look. She remembered he’d told her the owners were in France for the summer.

Nash came out to meet her. His blue eyes were warm and he smiled as he took the salad bowl from her arms. “The grill’s back here.”

Behind the garage, a lawn opened up, stretching to a bank of rose of Sharon bushes not yet in bloom. A small stone patio extended from the back of the garage, with a grill on one corner, a small table and four white plastic chairs in the middle, and a line of terra-cotta pots with cherry tomato plants growing in them.

“Pretty,” Darcy said.

“You’re pretty,” Nash told her. He set the salad bowl on the table, took her in his arms, and kissed her for a long time.

She pulled away. “Tonight we are going to eat and talk before we do anything else.”

“Well, that sounds ominous.”

“It’s not, really. It’s just complicated. I need to tell you about some stuff, and I’d like your advice on something.”

“Okay.” Nash moved away. “Let’s talk.”

“Wouldn’t you rather eat first?”

“No, let’s talk. It will take only a minute to grill the fish and the potatoes are ready.”

They sat across from each other at the round table.

Darcy took a deep breath. “All right. It’s more about Willow. My ex-husband’s fourteen-year-old stepdaughter.”

She explained how she overheard Logan trying to convince Willow to try heroin last night. How she ran around to the other yard and kicked Logan’s hand and sent him away. How she calmed Willow—and herself—with hot chocolate and television. How she explained it all to Boyz and Autumn when they came home.

“So,” she finished. She looked at her beer bottle. It was still full, and she’d peeled off most of the label. Nash’s expression was stormy. “I didn’t try to eavesdrop on Willow. The hedge is so thick and on their side, a tree provides a nice nook to hide in from anyone in the house….” Darcy couldn’t get a read on Nash’s thoughts. “Do you think I was wrong, to interfere?”

Nash reared back as if she’d hit him. “Do I think you were wrong to interfere? Good God, no, Darcy. You did the absolutely right thing. Except if it had been me, I would have called the cops and slugged that asshole hard enough to break his nose. That Willow is lucky—she doesn’t know how lucky—that you were there, that you cared. Her parents sound like idiots.”