Irene Hannon - Second Chance Summer

“You have to promise me you’ll build in some social time, though. I don’t expect you to wait on me hand and foot. Besides, you’re not getting any younger. You need to think about settling down and starting a family.”

Gram’s new lifestyle might be casual and laid-back, but she clearly hadn’t dialed down her determination see him married.

“Thirty-five isn’t exactly over the hill.”

“No...but you don’t want to be dealing with night feedings and diapers in your forties if you can help it.”

Fletch forced his lips into the semblance of a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Juggling the plate of cookies in his hand, he reentered the house. Only then did he allow the corners of his mouth to flatten.

Gram was right.

He wasn’t getting any younger.

But he had secrets she didn’t know. Guilt that ate at his soul. Grief that remained raw after two and a half years.

It would take a very special woman to deal with all the baggage he carried.

And so far, he was batting zero.

Leaving him less than upbeat that his chances were going to improve anytime soon.

* * *

As Eleanor slowed the car to a stop on a tiny lane that bisected the interior of the island, she gestured toward a small bungalow. “That’s Louise’s house.”

Rachel surveyed the well-kept cottage, the tidy yard and the flower-rimmed sidewalk that led to the front door. “It’s charming. How’s she adjusting to island life?”

“After only eight months, you’d think she was a native. Took to it like a duck to water. I knew she would the day we met at church.” Eleanor glanced from her watch to the door. “That broken wrist must be slowing her down, though. Louise is always punctual—and she hates to be late for services.”

“Would you like me to ring the bell?”

Eleanor tapped her finger on the steering wheel. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt. Maybe she could use a hand with a zipper or something.”

“No problem. We should be fine. The church is only five minutes from here.”

Her aunt chuckled. “Everything’s five minutes from here.”

“Good point. I’ll be back in a sec.” Grinning, Rachel slid out, followed the path to the door and pressed the bell.

Fifteen seconds ticked by.

She tried again.

Another fifteen seconds passed.

A flicker of alarm nudged up her pulse.

Had Louise fallen again? Was she ill? Had she forgotten Aunt El’s offer of a ride and made other arrangements? Should they...

At the sound of a lock sliding on the other side of the door, she exhaled. There wasn’t a problem after all.

As the knob turned, Rachel lightened her expression, prepared to greet her aunt’s new best friend...and froze.

What on earth was the man from the beach doing here?

While she stared at him, he stared back.

She found her voice first. “We meet again.”

He looked past her, toward the car where Aunt El waited. “I take it you’re somehow connected to Eleanor.”

“Great-niece. I take it you’re connected to Louise.”

“Grandson.”

She tried to think of something else to say. Failed.

He seemed to be having the same problem.

“Is that you, Rachel?” Louise’s cheery greeting sounded from within the house, and a moment later she hurried into view.

Once again Rachel found herself staring.

Was this flower-child senior with the mod hair, funky sandals and colorful knee-length caftanlike garment the same quiet, conservatively dressed woman who’d shared Christmas dinner with her and Aunt El?

The woman gathered her into a one-handed hug as Rachel tried to process the transformation.

“Let me look at you.” Louise backed off to scrutinize her. “Pretty as a picture, just like I remember. How do you like the new me?” She did a pirouette, her eyes twinkling.

“Um...it’s different.” Rachel studied the older woman. “But I like it.”

Louise laughed. “The very thing Fletch said. The different part, anyway. I’m not sure he’s sold on the updates, but life’s full of surprises, isn’t it? By the way, let me introduce you two.”

“We’ve met.” The swimmer’s face was unreadable.

“Is that right?” Louise swiveled her head from one to the other.

Since the man in question didn’t seem inclined to offer any more information, Rachel spoke up. “We ran into each other at the beach on Wednesday.”

“Literally.” He folded his arms. “Her dog knocked me down.”

“Aunt El’s dog,” Rachel corrected.

Louise’s eyes widened. “Rachel was the woman with the dog you mentioned?”

“Small world, I guess.” Fletch leaned a shoulder against the door.

“True enough. Especially on Jekyll Island.” Louise beamed at him. “Now isn’t this nice? Two young people at loose ends for the summer.”

Her grandson straightened up at once, annoyance tightening his features. “I’m not at loose ends, Gram. When I’m not helping you, I’ll be working.”

“Not 24/7.”

Warmth stole onto Rachel’s cheeks. It was obvious to her, if not to Louise, that this Fletch guy had zero interest in her. And that was fine. If she ever decided to go out on a date again, it would be with someone who wanted to spend time with her, not someone shoved her direction by an overeager if well-meaning relation.

And he’d been shoved, no question about it. Why else would he have shown up on Aunt El’s beach, halfway around the island, when there were perfectly fine beaches much closer?

If his sudden scowl was any indication, he’d come to the same conclusion.

As the silence lengthened, Rachel edged away from the door—and the man. “I think we’d better leave or we’ll miss the opening hymn.”

Louise consulted her watch. “Goodness, you’re right. Fletch, are you certain I can’t convince you to come?”

“Yes.”

No hesitation there. An aversion to church—or to her?

Rachel straightened her shoulders and crooked her elbow. “Why don’t you take my arm, Louise, just to be safe?”

“Don’t mind if I do. It doesn’t hurt to be extra careful until I ditch this thing.” Louise lifted the cast. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, Fletch.”

“No rush. I’ve got some work to do.”

Louise shot him a pointed look. “In my day, people didn’t work on Sundays.”

“Times change.” Fletch edged the door closed as Louise exited, as if he couldn’t be rid of them fast enough.

“And not always for the better.” The door clicked shut before his grandmother finished her reply. She frowned at the closed door. “Now where are that boy’s manners? He didn’t even say goodbye to you.”

Rachel guided her down the walk. “Maybe he has a lot on his mind.” Or he’s just plain rude.

The latter seemed more than plausible.

“That doesn’t excuse bad manners. I’ll have to have a talk with him after I get back.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. That would go over real well. Louise’s grandson struck her as a take-charge kind of guy who wouldn’t appreciate criticism. A scolding from his grandmother wasn’t likely to endear Eleanor’s niece to him.

But who cared? There was no reason for their paths to cross again. Now that they were both on to his grandmother’s—and perhaps Aunt El’s—transparent beach strategy, he’d no doubt get his rays elsewhere. It didn’t sound as if she’d run into him at church, either. Nor did he seem like the gallery-visiting type, so the odds he’d stop in to Aunt El’s shop were nil. They could each go their separate ways and spend their summers exactly as they’d intended.

Everything was good.

Rachel helped Louise into the front passenger seat, glancing back at the older woman’s cottage as she reached for the back door. For one tiny instant, she thought she detected a shadow at the window, as if someone had been watching them. Not much chance of that, though, given the man’s reaction to her today—and on the beach.