A Hundred Summers
Beatriz Williams
Language: English
Pages: 432
ISBN: 0425270033
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
As the 1938 hurricane approaches Rhode Island, another storm brews in this novel from the author of The Secret Life of Violet Grant.
“Blends history, romance, and social commentary into...much more than a summer guilty pleasure” (Connecticut Post)
Memorial Day, 1938
Lily Dane has returned to Seaview, Rhode Island, where her family has summered for generations. It’s an escape not only from New York’s social scene but from a heartbreak that still haunts her. Here, among the seaside community that has embraced her since childhood, she finds comfort in the familiar rituals of summer.
But this summer is different. Budgie and Nick Greenwald—Lily’s former best friend and former fiancé—have arrived, too, and Seaview’s elite are abuzz. Under Budgie’s glamorous influence, Lily is seduced into a complicated web of renewed friendship and dangerous longing.
As a cataclysmic hurricane churns north through the Atlantic, and uneasy secrets slowly reveal themselves, Lily and Nick must confront an emotional storm that will change their worlds forever…
A PEOPLE STYLEWATCH MUST-READ
Includes a Reader's Guide
French, if I had to speak at all. I found, in fact, I was able to take her twice, in quick succession. Once right there in the hallway, once in the bedroom. Dressed and home by one o’clock. A vast improvement. By the third time . . .” He was panting, nearly breathless with anger. “Stop it, Nick.” “By the third time . . . which I’m afraid I can’t recall specifically . . . by the third time . . .” I looked up just in time to see Nick pick up a curving vase from the mantel, heft it in his hand,
straight from a Pepsodent advertisement. His entire face, carved out in perfect symmetry, tanned from the hazy sun, seemed to radiate with good health and good spirits. “But your dance card isn’t full yet, is it? You’ll save one for your old pal Graham?” “Of course I will.” He leaned forward and kissed my cheek and replaced his hat on his head. “Good, then. I’ll be looking for you. Julie? A pleasure meeting you. I’ll be saving my last dance for you.” He winked his sky-blue eye and turned to
head moved, shifting slightly in the light. I came around the front of his chair and knelt before him and took his hands. “Daddy, it’s me. It’s Lily.” He looked at me, and the right side of his face lifted into a tiny smile. I touched his cheek, running my finger over a small patch of stubble that the razor had missed. “How are you? It’s been a hot summer, hasn’t it? I’ve missed you so much.” “I can bring a chair,” said the orderly. “No, that’s all right.” I lowered myself next to my father’s
awkwardly under the counter; he had to cant sideways, toward me, and our knees brushed together. “Are you all right?” he asked, the first words he’d uttered since we left the office building. “Yes. Physically, I mean. I gave Graham back his ring this afternoon. The engagement’s off.” Nick’s face didn’t change, not by so much as a tremor of muscle. He drank his coffee and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a pack of Chesterfields. He held it toward me. “Thanks,” I said, taking one. He
all right?” he says. “Happy?” “I am. You?” He is silent. “Nick?” I turn my head. I wish I could see him better. I wish I could make out the expression on his face, the look in his eyes. I wish I could read his mind, that I could know what he knows: the other women he’s slept with, the other beds he’s shared. (I’m certain, now, there were more than one.) The other darkened hotel rooms, perhaps, with turned-down sheets. What were they like? Is this different? Does love make lovemaking better?