Summer Breeze by Nancy Thayer Read Free Book Online

“He’s got the fattest thighs!”
    “Fat thighs. Nice.” Slade’s voice wasn’t sarcastic; if anything, it was ultrapolite.
    Bella’s voice had gone husky. “I live next door. On that side. I think we might have seen you sometimes in the summer? When you and Natalie came to visit your aunt Eleanor?”
    “Possible.” He took a swig of beer.
    “I should put Petey to bed.” Morgan rose from the sofa.
    Slade moved. “Hey. Don’t leave because of me,” he protested. He put his beer on the table. “I’ll take a walk around the lake.”
    “No, really,” Morgan insisted. “I’ve got to help Josh.” She turned to Natalie and hugged her. “This was great! We’ll do it at my house next time.”
    Bella reluctantly rose. “I should go, too.” She hugged Natalie, waved to Slade, and went out the door.

3

    W hat was wrong with her? Bella wondered as she drove toward her mother’s shop. She was irritable and critical and edgy. She could call it spring fever, but it was June, the air thick with summer humidity and the sky an endless blue.
    Of course, she knew exactly what was wrong with her: Natalie. Sophisticated, chic, citified Natalie. Bella liked Natalie, and Natalie was nice to her, so why did Bella feel so uncomfortable around her? Why did Natalie make Bella feel so lame?
    Last night had been great fun, drinking those daiquiris with Natalie and Morgan. There hadn’t been much alcohol in them, and what there was was soaked up by the cheese, crackers, nuts, and olives Natalie had set out, so this morning when Bella woke, she hadn’t had the slightest hint of a hangover. So it wasn’t the booze that conjured up the instant sense of camaraderie among the three of them.
    Except they weren’t old friends, and something about last night had gotten Bella’s hair on backward this morning. Was it Natalie’s art? Natalie had real talent. Her still lifes were better than her abstracts, or maybe Bella thought that because she didn’t get abstract art. Natalie had rushed them out of the studio before they could study any of her work, but Bella had had time to be impressed.
    Natalie had her art. Morgan had her science. And Bella had …  this?
    Barnaby’s Barn sat next to the road, with space for cars off to theside so the charming façade wouldn’t be obscured. Bella parked. Instead of walking straight to the front door, she crossed the road and allowed herself a moment to stand considering the shop’s appearance, trying to see it with a fresh eye.
    The barn was white clapboard. The windows were framed by blue shutters with cutout hearts. The Dutch door was blue, and blue window boxes were filled with real flowers in the summer and giant Louise-made striped lollipops and gingerbread people in the winter. Slate steps led in a crooked path from the parking lot to the blue front door. When she was a girl, Bella had believed the place was enchanted.
    Her mother had created a magical universe. Louise had delighted in crafting Lake Worlds and seeing children enter the shop—the way their eyes widened with happy surprise.
    That was sixteen years ago. These days, Louise didn’t seem to have the same enthusiasm for making the miniature worlds or for running the shop. Barnaby’s Barn was showing definite evidence of decline.
    Was there anything Bella could do to fix the situation? She crossed the road and the raked gravel of the parking lot, unlocked the blue door, and stepped inside. It was adorable.
    The ceiling was a pale sky blue, the walls a sunny yellow, the floor tiled in light green. Louise had painted enormous tulips and daisies, smiling cows, and leaping lambs on the four walls, and wind chimes and mobiles hung from the ceiling, tinkling and glimmering whenever the door opened. The display cases for the Lake Worlds were the first thing you saw when you entered, and other cases were set around not in rows but at odd angles, making the entire space a kind of maze. Shauna Webb’s handmade pottery was sold