Summer Days, page 1
SUMMER DAYS
CAROL WYATT
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including scanning, photocopying, or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.
Copyright © 2022
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Thank You
Also by Carol Wyatt
1
Hannah Farley stood motionless in the middle of the expansive living room area, the African walnut flooring stretching from the front door through to the wall of windows that looked out on so much blue. A bright, clear blue sky streaked with one long white line trailing from a jet now long gone met the deep blue of the ocean.
A fresh citrus scent filled the room and the kitchen counters glistened despite the house being empty for almost a year. Her parents had hired a cleaner to come in every other week to keep the house fresh, but Hannah couldn’t stop wondering why she hadn’t come out here sooner.
She’d had so many great summers here, starting with her first summer after graduating high school, and even when she’d been in culinary school in New York, she’d made the trips out here, to San Clemente, California, to catch up with her parents every summer. But as the years went by, Hannah couldn’t always get away from her job, and then she’d gone traveling across Europe with her best friend from high school, Erin.
Hannah did the math. This was the first summer she’d been back here in ten years. Her parents had drifted out of the habit of coming here too. They’d been curious about Europe ever since Hannah had come back almost nine years ago. They’d followed Erin’s vlogs and Hannah had only been back in the States a few months before her parents started looking in to retiring in Spain or Portugal, that they were going to be taking more trips there.
Hannah had no idea where those years went. It was hard for her to comprehend that ten years ago, she’d been twenty-one and eager to start her career as a chef. She’d had dreams of owning her own restaurant someday. Maybe even in New York City.
Not that Hannah was unhappy with the way her life turned out. She’d done just fine for herself, and she’d seen more of the world than she’d ever thought she would. Her love life was about the only thing she could complain about, and even that had been stable until last summer when she’d walked in on her girlfriend with her ex, right in the middle of things, in their bed.
She shook away those thoughts as her phone rang, and she slid it out of her pocket, a smile on her face when she saw Erin’s name.
“Hey,” Hannah said, putting Erin on speaker as she moved away from the living room kitchen area, holding her phone in front of her mouth, the view pulling her towards the windows and the narrow deck area outside. “I was just about to call you.”
“You got there okay?”
“Yeah.” Hannah stood in front of the huge window that took up almost the entire wall, just watching the waves rolling in.
“And? How is it? Is it just like you remembered it?”
Hannah turned back towards the living room. “Yeah. I mean, they’ve redecorated since I’ve been here. The kitchen is quite impressive, actually. Everything’s white and open and airy.”
“And the weather? I’m so sick of this rain. Just when we’re done with the snow and it looks like spring is on the way, it just rains.”
Hannah bit back a smile as she went over to the door that led outside, a light breeze moving through her hair. “How’s a warm and pleasant seventy-five degrees?”
“Ugh, I hate you.”
“You know you can come out here,” Hannah said with a laugh. “I’ll be here for at least a month. Maybe more. I don’t know. I have to see what my parents want to do. Sell? Rent it out?” Hannah sat down on one of the navy Adirondack chairs. “I’m almost afraid to see how much this place is worth.”
“Don’t tell me you’re already thinking of staying.”
“I don’t want to be the spoiled child that gets a home given to them, but this place is just…” Hannah shielded her eyes against the sun, her shades inside. “It’s beautiful. The beach is private. No tourists. You should definitely come out here.”
“I will. I’ll have to see if I can move some things around. So, what about the woman? The one you said used to live next door.”
Hannah’s eyes fluttered closed as she leaned back in the chair, the sun’s rays warm against her skin. “I don’t know. I just got here.” Even thinking about the prospect of seeing her teenage crush again had her heart beating a little faster.
“But she might still be living next door.”
Hannah shrugged. “Yeah. I guess. I don’t want to get my hopes up.” She swallowed. “My parents were friendly with the neighbors on both sides, but that was only when they were here. And they haven’t been in almost a year. Even before that, I don’t know. I never asked them if she still lived next door. And they wouldn’t have stayed in touch, so I really don’t know.”
“What was her name again?”
Hannah sucked in a breath, glancing to her left to make sure that there was no one outside, on the other deck. “Tracy.”
“And this is your big crush from back in the day? The reason why you never liked me?” Erin asked, and Hannah could hear her smiling.
“Yes. And I maintain that despite lusting after a completely unavailable older woman who lived three thousand miles away and who I never had any chance with… It was still better than me harboring feelings for my best friend. Considering that they wouldn’t have been returned.”
“Yes, but it still makes me feel better. And they might have been returned, during a brief window, when we were freshmen.” Erin laughed. “But then I found my own unavailable older woman.”
Hanna smiled. “See? You can’t judge me. And Tracy kept me from falling for a teacher like you did.”
“Oh, I hope she’s there. Then you can get some closure.”
Hannah bit her lip for a second. “As in… See her with kids or a husband or something?”
“I don’t know, but when I bumped into Mrs. Klein a few years ago, I had zero feelings for her. It was just a teenage crush. And now, I can stop wondering, you know, what if? What if, I’d looked her up a few years after I’d graduated and tried to befriend her or something. I’m not thinking about that now. It’s a good feeling. To know that it was just a thing in the past. Not an opportunity missed.”
“Hmm.” Hannah wasn’t so sure this was a thing in the past.
Her heart jumped when her eyes landed on a woman walking along the beach, at the water’s edge. She was too far away to make out any distinguishing features, but she did have black hair. Was that her?
Hannah closed her eyes again, inhaling the fresh, salty sea air. “I’m just looking forward to relaxing for a few weeks.”
“Well, no matter what happens with your old neighbor, you should go out. Find the gay friendly bars. I know you’re over your cheating ex, so it’s about time you got back out there.”
“I know.” Hannah appreciated that Erin never pushed, but it had been nine months now. She’d been completely blindsided. She’d really had no idea that her girlfriend was having an affair. But while Hannah had been shocked, she couldn’t say she was entirely heartbroken. She was just reluctant to get involved with anyone any time soon.
“Look, I’ll let you get settled in,” Erin said.
“Yeah.” Hannah shielded her eyes again. The woman was moving away from the water, walking across the sand and heading towards the line of houses. Hannah pushed herself out of her chair and went back inside, not prepared to see Tracy again. If that even was her.
“Keep me updated.”
“I will.” Hannah climbed the stairs, her hand sliding along the smooth, wooden rail. “And let me know when you’re coming out here. Seriously. We could do with a good catch up. In person.”
“I know. It’s been too long.”
They said their goodbyes and Hannah hung up, slipping her phone back in her pocket as she moved through the bedrooms. She paused in the doorway of the master bedroom, completely in awe of the view, of the endless ocean stretched out in front of her.
Three bedrooms. Two and a half baths. And that view. This place had to be worth at least two million, maybe closer to three.
Now that Hannah had spent almost seven years working on her business, she could really appreciate how well her parents had done for themselves. Back in New York, they lived in a modest apartment, but their parents had always saved and invested. Somehow, they’d been able to buy this place during the recession, and now that real estate was booming again, especially on the coast, this beach house was worth a lot of money.
At least her parents had options. When they decided to retire to Portugal last year, they did the math, and because the cost of living was so low there, they had plenty to survive on well into their nineties. This house was just a bonus.
Hannah went back downstairs to get her suitcase that she’d left inside the front door, her stomach rumbling, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since she left New York that morning.
She’d bring her suitcase upstairs and get freshened up before she’d venture towards the pier and find somewhere to eat.
And then she knew where she’d end up. The one place she always seemed to be able to find Tracy all those years ago. A relaxed beach bar that by day was more of a coffee shop, but as the evening turned to night, it became a laid back gay friendly bar.
What was it called again? The Lazy… The Lazy Mermaid. That was it.
Hannah shook her head as she climbed the stairs with her suitcase. That had been the first place she’d gone to that summer after she’d turned twenty-one. And there was Tracy, sitting at the bar with a few friends, her black hair falling in loose waves across her back.
It wasn’t lost on Hannah that she was seeing her crush at a bar that was considered gay friendly. That was what Hannah had been doing there that night. But it was still full of straight couples. And Hannah had tried not to let her imagination run away with itself.
Now though? Hannah had to wonder. Could her gaydar have been functioning back then?
She’d always assumed that Tracy was straight.
“Who knows,” Hannah muttered to herself as she lifted her suitcase onto the bed and started unpacking, wondering what she’d wear, just in case.
2
A gentle breeze lifted Tracy’s hair away from her face as she gazed out at the ocean, the purples and pinks fading into orange where the sky met the water. In the nineteen years that she’d lived in San Clemente, she’d yet to grow tired of witnessing these stunning sunsets.
Sounds from the bustling bar behind her drifted out to the deck area to mix with the rhythmic roar of the waves crashing into the shore.
Tracy picked up a few empty glasses from the tables that she passed on her way back inside, bringing them behind the bar and loading them into the dishwasher.
“We have staff for that,” Breanna said with a smile as she poured out the contents of the cocktail shaker into a glass, adding a pink umbrella to what Tracy assumed was a tequila sunrise. The fiery colored mixture was almost identical to the tangerine orange koi tattoo that wrapped around Breanna’s forearm.
“We also have bartenders.” Tracy pushed the drawer in and closed the door. “This is like some strange throwback.”
“To when we used to have to do all this ourselves?” Breanna asked with a laugh.
“Yes. And so much more. But without going down memory lane, is everything set for the weekend?”
Breanna nodded, coming towards Tracy to get out of the way as two of their bartenders came back from their break. “All set.”
“Is it weird that I keep alternating between thinking that too many people are going to show up but also worrying that this place is going to be a ghost town?”
Breanna led her out from behind the bar to two free barstools, and they both took a seat. “Okay, well, first of all,” Breanna said, tucking a strand of her mahogany brown hair behind her ear. “Look around.”
From her barstool, Tracy was already faced out towards the worn wooden tables, nearly all of which were full. They’d gradually added more and more rustic nautical decorations over the years, including plenty of mermaid signs and art. She’d just come from the deck, and that had been about half full with a mix of familiar faces and tourists.
“When is this place a ghost town?” Breanna asked. “Never.”
Tracy felt her lips tug into a half smile. “Not recently, but you couldn’t say ‘never.’ We had our scares. Fourteen years ago?”
Breanna made a face. “We were a new bar. That’s normal. But I’m saying, right now. We’re busy. We’re always busy. There’s no way this place is going to be anything remotely close to quiet this weekend. Never mind the fact that we’re throwing a party for ourselves. Even if only our friends turned up, there would be a pretty decent crowd.”
“I know. I know,” Tracy said as she exhaled. “It’s going to be fine.”
“Fine? It’s going to be fucking amazing. And depending how the band works out, I think we should really consider doing live music at least once a week.”
“Yeah.” Tracy lost her train of thought as her eyes moved past Breanna to the woman who had just come in. Her sunglasses hung from the neckline of her black tank top, causing the fabric to dip, revealing a hint of cleavage.
Tracy watched the woman run a hand through her blond hair as she surveyed the bar, and when the woman’s eyes met hers, widening ever so slightly, Tracy knew that it was her. That was the woman from the house next door.
Hannah. Jack and Marie’s daughter.
God, how many years had it been?
“Tracy?” Breanna’s voice brought her back, and Tracy’s eyes found her best friend’s curious gaze. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine. Sorry. But yeah, the band is a great idea. We should have done it sooner.”
Breanna nodded. “Don’t worry about this weekend. It’s supposed to fun. And it’s for us, so I don’t really care how many people show up. Fifteen years is a big deal.”
“I know,” Tracy said with a smile, giving Breanna her full attention. “It really is.”
Tracy’s heart leapt in her chest when, out of the corner of her eye, she could see Hannah coming towards the bar.
Breanna was talking but she was eyeing Tracy suspiciously. Breanna eventually turned to see what was distracting her, but Hannah wasn’t coming to talk to her. She’d gone to the other side of the bar to order a drink.
Breanna’s eyebrows lifted. “Tracy, I can’t remember the last time you openly checked someone out like that. I’m just going to go make myself scarce,” she said, half off her stool already, but Tracy put her hand on Breanna’s arm, covering the koi fish tattoo with her hand.
“Don’t go.”
Breanna casually got comfortable on the stool again, giving her a quizzical look. “Okay…”
“It’s a long story.”
“That I clearly need to hear.”
Tracy let her gaze linger on Hannah for a few seconds while she was chatting with the bartender, a new hire whose name Tracy couldn’t remember. But it was definitely her. A grown-up version of the college aged woman she’d remembered from all those years ago.
“Well?” Breanna asked. “Is she an ex? Before my time? Although, she looks about thirty, so I hope not.”
Tracy gave her a death stare. “She’s not an ex.”
“Trace, you need to elaborate. You’re killing me.”
“Her family own the house beside mine. To the right.”
“The one that’s been empty?” Breanna asked.
Tracy nodded. “I haven’t seen Jack and Marie in a while. But I don’t have any contact details for them. I was starting to worry that something might have happened, but maybe they’re back.”
“And she’s their daughter?”
“Yeah. Hannah. I think she’d just graduated when they bought the house. She…” Tracy dropped her voice. “She had a thing for me.”
“Ohhh,” Breanna said, playfully giving her arm a shove. “Look at you. See? I always told you younger women were more fun.”
Tracy narrowed her eyes. “Your wife is thirty-six. Four years hardly makes an age gap relationship.”
Breanna shrugged. “If I was single right now, I’d be buying her a drink.”
“Sometimes I forget that you’re forty.” Tracy sighed. “And does Molly know this? That you’d be off chasing younger women?”
Breanna ignored her, getting the new hire behind the bar to bring them two glasses of wine. Monica. That was her name.
“I’ll take that silence for a no,” Tracy said.
“Enough about me. What’s her story? How do you know she had a thing for you?”
“Well, it wasn’t entirely obvious. We’d see each other outside. One of us coming back from a walk on the beach or a swim. The other out on the deck. She just… She had this intense eye contact. The few times we spoke, you know, more than a quick hello… For someone that young, she didn’t really seem that immature. She made me feel like there was no one in the world she would rather be talking to. And I don’t think it was just me. She just had that kind of personality. I’d say she could talk to anyone and make them feel like that.”
