Read Online Weekend Agreement by Barbara Wallace - Free Book Online Page B

better.
    “Your stepfather seems nice,” Charlotte was saying.
    “William? He’s all right. At least, I’ve always been welcome in his house.”
    “And your brother?”
    He laughed, unable to help himself. “Cole is… Let’s say Cole is definitely Vivian’s son.”
    The wind whipped around them, churning the surf. Moisture found its way into the air, spitting drops on their faces. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Charlotte rubbing her arms. “You’ve got goose bumps,” he said, brushing her skin. Beneath his fingers, her arm trembled.
    “So much for the hot, humid weather. Should we head back to the house?”
    “I have a better idea.” Daniel wasn’t ready to leave the tranquility just yet.
    He led her away from the water. There weren’t any dunes on this portion of the island. Rather, the land dropped off suddenly, the wind and erosion working together to create a natural shelf. They settled in a small nook, their backs leaning against the sand. Long tufts of grass blew above them, but nestled in their little curve, they were protected. Daniel slid his blazer over Charlotte’s knees like a blanket. She smiled gratefully, making the tightness in his chest a little stronger.
    “This might be my favorite view on the whole island,” he said, forcing his gaze from her smile to the endless whitecapped horizon. “No land, few boats. Just open water for as far as the eye can see.”
    He felt a nudge against his shoulder. “And here I thought the Ferncliffs were the ones with the love of the sea.”
    “I love it; I just don’t love being on it.”
    “No crackers on the Lucky Duck ?”
    “Wouldn’t know,” he said, chuckling. “The few times I went, I spent the trip curled up on the berth, doped up on seasick pills. I’m much better as an observer.”
    He looked back to the surf where a cormorant struggled to make progress against the wind. “There’s something about the raw power of nature. The way the shoreline changes with every wave. Did you know the seashore is never the same twice? Sand washes away, new sand arrives. Dunes erode and shift. All without us lifting a finger.” He stopped, embarrassed at how whimsical he sounded.
    “In other words, you finally admit there’s something you can’t control.”
    She had him there. “You win, Professor. Nature is the one force we can’t control.”
    “Maybe that’s why you hold it in such high esteem?”
    “Maybe. Or maybe it’s because nature doesn’t ask anything of us in return, except to allow it to exist.”
    There he went again, sounding fanciful. This wasn’t like him.
    Charlotte burrowed a little deeper into the sand, her body rubbing against his. “You know, for a bloodthirsty businessman, you’re quite a poet.”
    “Now that’s a first. I’ve been called many things over the years, but never poetic.”
    “You mean no one’s accused you of being a smooth talker?”
    “Sure, but not because I’m talking about nature.” He didn’t normally share those kinds of thoughts with anyone.
    “Too bad,” he heard her say in a voice nearly muffled by the wind. “Too bad.”
    They lapsed into silence. Daniel stared at the darkening shore. It was almost dinnertime. His mother and the others would be wondering where they went. He couldn’t bring himself to move. The heat was leaving the sand, and dampness settling in, but all he could feel was the warmth of the body beside him. More than that, he felt a closeness that went beyond proximity, a sensation he couldn’t name or explain.
    “I never went to the beach when I was little,” Charlotte said suddenly.
    “That’s too bad. You missed out.”
    She nodded. “My father was one of the country’s leading experts on the Cold War. If we traveled, it was because he was speaking somewhere and couldn’t find anyone to watch my brother and me.”
    She need not say more. Daniel knew the story well, the notion that your presence was a burden to be borne.
    But she quickly elaborated