The Summer Everything Changed Read Online Free Page A

room was nicely cross-ventilated; only on those nasty humid days when temperatures crawled into the nineties (this was a common enough occurrence in Southern Maine) did she crank up the AC a few hours before bedtime.
    Louise sighed. She knew she would spend less and less time in this lovely haven as the busy season took hold, and she strongly suspected that this summer, what with the celebrity wedding looming, her sleep schedule would be pretty severely reduced. It worried her. She was already drinking way too much coffee just to keep awake past three in the afternoon, and if she weren’t careful to exercise some self-control, the one homemade pastry she snuck around ten each morning would turn into two pastries. What would happen from there was anyone’s nightmarish guess. Being active—supervising the housekeepers (who, being intelligent, energetic, and hardworking, didn’t need much supervision), or discussing a change to the breakfast menu with the cook, Bella Frank (who had her own firm ideas about what to serve the guests), or asking Quentin to take a look at the dishwasher or some other appliance (which, often enough, he had already earmarked for repair)—didn’t necessarily mean you were conscious while doing so.
    Louise fought with her eyes, which insisted on closing, but she knew it was a fight she was not going to win. She got off the bed and went down to the kitchen.
    â€œKnock, knock.”
    Louise turned to find Catherine, and her dog, Charlie, at the kitchen door.
    Catherine King was fifty, an early retiree from a very successful career as what Louise thought of, without any disrespect, as a “corporate something or other.” She was a bit shorter than Louise but taller than Isobel (not hard to do, according to Isobel herself). Her hair, once bright red, had deepened in color to a sort of burgundy, and she wore it tied back or up in an old-fashioned but becoming French twist. Her eyes were very green and her skin was very white. Though she spent a fair amount of time outdoors these days, a lot of it painting en plein air, she managed to avoid burning or tanning through a combination of sunblock and protective clothing. “If I’m an object of ridicule in my long sleeves and floppy hats, so be it,” she pronounced. “So far I’m the only one in my immediate family who hasn’t gotten skin cancer.”
    â€œAny room at the inn?” Catherine asked.
    â€œYes, and I was just about to make some coffee.”
    â€œAh, music to my ears. Any water for Charlie?”
    Catherine rarely went anywhere without her dog, Princess Charlene, a five-year-old chocolate lab she had found at a shelter shortly before moving to Ogunquit from a wealthy suburb of Hartford, Connecticut. Her career had kept her too often on the road and too busy to be a proper parent to an animal, especially to a dog. Now that she was retired she was reveling in her first adult relationship with a four-footed creature.
    â€œWhy Princess Charlene?” Isobel had asked when Catherine had first come to Ogunquit, only months after Louise and Isobel had established residence.
    â€œBecause that poor young woman seemed so in need of rescuing for a time, remember?” Catherine had said. “Just like my baby. Mind you, I don’t so much think that Princess Charlene of Monaco needs saving anymore. She seems to have found her footing.”
    Isobel loped into the kitchen just then.
    â€œHi, Catherine, bye, Catherine. Hi, Princess Charlene, bye.”
    She was out the back door in a flash.
    â€œDoes Isobel ever sit still?” Catherine said. “That’s a rhetorical question.”
    Louise placed a French press pot of coffee on the table, along with two mugs. Both women took their coffee black. “Only when she’s writing her blog. And then her leg is bouncing.”
    â€œHuh. Lucky gal, she’ll probably never have to diet.” Catherine took a sip of her coffee.