Read Online The Summer of Good Intentions by Wendy Francis - Free Book Online Page A

hesitated a moment, searching for a place to sit. When she realized there was only one space left, she sat down next to her husband.
    â€œThis smells heavenly.” She held out her plate for Mac, who dropped a generous fillet onto it. “Thank you.” She cut into the flaky white fish and twirled it on her tongue, savoring the pop of lemon, the buttery goodness of it. “Wow,” she said after a moment. “There’s nothing better than the catch of the day, is there?”
    â€œI couldn’t agree more,” said Mac.
    For a while, everyone ate in silence, a summery web of contentment spun around them. The sun, with splashes of brilliant pink and orange, was dropping on the horizon in a dazzling display. Then Grace told a knock-knock joke, scattering the quiet, and the kids returned to chattering. Yes, this was summer. This was what she’d been waiting for. It was almost perfect.
    When Tim reached out to hold her hand, Jess instinctively pulled it away. She couldn’t have been more surprised. But after a moment she placed her hand back on top of his. The roughness of his skin, the curvature of his hand, was at once foreign and familiar.
    And she let her hand sit there for a while, as if trying it on for size, only lifting it finally to reach for the butter for her corn.

Virgie
    Jackson always smelled like soap, clean and inviting. Whenever she got a whiff of a similar scent, Virgie thought of him. It was almost Pavlovian. The teenage girl sitting next to her on the plane must use the same brand. What was it? Ivory? Zest? Virgie guessed her fellow traveler was probably fifteen or sixteen, her earbuds firmly in place while she thumbed through the July issue of Seventeen . Virgie peered over her shoulder, pretending not to. Most of the celebrities in the magazine were people she didn’t even recognize. Damn, she felt old .
    She glanced out the window at large, frothy clouds that reminded her of the foam on a milk shake. It felt good to be leaving the office behind. When the flight attendant stopped the metal cart beside her row, Virgie ordered a Diet Coke with lime.
    â€œNo limes,” the attendant said unapologetically and snapped open a can of soda. “Here you go.” She efficiently handed over the can, a cup of ice, and a package of pretzels.
    â€œThanks,” said Virgie, secretly wondering when flight attendants had gotten so snarky. Maybe this one was just having a bad day. Virgie knew the feeling. She sipped her drink and closed her eyes. The Liz Crandle story had aired yesterday, and Virgie was miffed that Thomas had actually done a crackerjack job with it. He’d managed to make Liz sound both wronged and sympathetic. Personally, Virgie doubted she could have done it any better. Whatever, she told herself. When she got back from vacation, she was going to figure out a Plan B. Maybe switch to a new station, where she’d have a more direct route to the anchor desk.
    She was also trying her best not to feel guilty about not inviting Jackson to the summer house with her. Not that he’d acted upset about it when she kissed him good-bye at the airport. But she’d had her reasons. She ticked through them now:
    1. She didn’t want to scare him off. Inviting Jackson to join her on vacation was like inviting him to a family wedding. It had serious written all over it. And they’d been dating only a few weeks.
    2. Meeting the entire Herington clan all at once could be intimidating for even the most devoted of boyfriends. Her father had vetoed several of her high school and college beaus, and it was no secret that Arthur didn’t suffer fools gladly.
    3. There was something sacred about the Cape house. All those memories. Bringing Jackson there would be like granting him access to her family’s personal Narnia, a wardrobe transformed into their own magical world. Did she want him to know her that well so soon?
    4. And what if—though