The Summer House Read Online Free Page A

with mirrors,” Liz replied. “The truth is, I’m beginning to feel older than dirt.”
    “What you need is some Florida sun.”
    “What I need is to talk to my big sister. Tell me this is all worth it, Beebs. Tell me everything will be okay.”
    It was a request BeBe could not even pretend to grant. “I’m sure Father has everything under control.” She wanted to sound as if she’d meant it, as if it could give her sister some comfort. But, as usual, anytime Father’s name was mentioned between them, a gap opened that could not be closed. BeBe had barely seen Father since Daniel was killed.
    “Oh, Beebs,” Liz said. “I wish things could be different. I wish you could be here.”
    “Me too, kiddo.” It had, however, long since been decided that their politics would not be a showcase for the family’s black sheep. “How are the kids?” BeBe asked brightly.
    “Bearing up well. Danny’s a little tired. But I guess that’s to be expected.”
    “And Michael? Is he going to be nominated?”
    “It looks that way.”
    “And?”
    “And what?”
    “And he’ll be running against Josh.” She waited one, two, three seconds for Liz to comment.
    “Congratulations,” Liz said. “I see you’re keeping up with the news.”
    BeBe wondered just how much French Country’s business might suffer if Michael lost the election, or worse, if ancient, dark family secrets wereunearthed during the race. She supposed it was possible that her customers might choose to no longer deal with an Adams. She had a sudden thought of Billy Carter, and wondered what had ever happened to his beer.
    Leaning back in her chair, she put her feet up on her desk. She looked down at her legs, which had never been as long as her sister’s, and at the pale skin that, despite living year-round in Florida, no longer tanned as it had on the Vineyard, but more often burned and made her sprout adolescent freckles that matched her orange hair. “Well,” she said slowly, “it will be an interesting election.”
    Liz hesitated then said, “Yes. Well. That’s one way of putting it.”
    BeBe’s heart ached just a little. “Keep your chin up, kiddo, and everything will work out. It always has. It always does.” She did not add, “But not always the way we want.”
    “I love you, big sister,” Liz replied. “Will you come see us when we’re in south Florida?”
    “What? Come to one of those horrible dinners with overboiled chicken and dishwater gravy?”
    “Yes.”
    “The answer is no. Not on your life.”
    “Then I’ll have to make time to come and see you.”
    “Please. And bring the kids. I love those kids.”
    “Me, too, Beebs. And I love you, too. You’re the best sister. Guess I’d better go. Roger wants to give us an update.”
    “Kisses to him, too. But not to his wife.” They both laughed for a second before hanging up.
    Then BeBe looked down at her flame-colored manicure and wondered how Liz would feel if she ever found out that once, long ago, BeBe, the “best sister,” had slept with her husband. That wasbefore Michael had married Liz, of course. That was … before.
    With a fast, forget-about-it sigh, BeBe sat up straight and buzzed Claire. There was no point dwelling on the stuff of the past. Not when there were millions to be made and work to be done.

Chapter 3
    He hated being there. He hated the way his mother bowed down to his grandfather and the way his father acted like he didn’t notice and the way his Uncle Roger juggled everyone and everything, a computer in one hand, a cell phone in the other. He hated the way his Aunt Evelyn paraded her martyred, “look at poor me, my husband is gay” self in front of the family, despite the fact that she would not agree to a divorce and lose her “status” (her word, not theirs) in life. Danny hated these things, just as he hated it that he couldn’t even go down to the lobby for fear of a tabloid reporter and a pop-flashing camera. And he hated it that they were