I love this island. I spent the entire summer here last year, nannying for the Harrisons. That’s how I met Maggie and Kaden—the two most important people in my life now. With Mrs. Harrison pregnant this summer, we’ve only been able to come to the island for a few weekends scattered throughout the summer. We usually fly, which is so much faster, but since she’s due in about two months, we were forced to take the ferry this time.
I am so lucky that they hired me to babysit Parker for them at the beginning of my sophomore year. They found me through a babysitting course I took at the community center. I had to interview with them and everything. At first, I would come over after school while Mrs. Harrison was still at home, allowing her to study for her graduate degree while I played with Parker. Her mother would come over when she had to drive into Boston for classes while I was at school. Eventually, they asked me to babysit the nights they went out for dinner or to some fancy party for Mr. Harrison’s law firm. So when they asked if I’d nanny for them last summer on Nantucket, I almost died.
Maggie was the first person I met, almost as soon as I arrived. I love reading, so I was automatically drawn to the quaint store with the fun name, hidden down a side street. It was my very first night on Nantucket. We were walking around, exploring the shops. She came right up to me and took the romance novel out of my hand, replacing it with a thriller I never would have considered.
“I’m saving you,” she told me.
And she did, but not with the book. I never got around to reading it. But her insertion into my life that summer opened me up to a bold and fascinating girl I never would’ve thought would like me, forget about become my closest friend.
Then there was Kaden. Maggie claims to have seen him first—his family has been coming to the island every summer since before we were born. But I like to say that when I saw him, it was love at first sight. Maggie rolls her eyes every time I recite this. But it’s true. As soon as Kaden Harrison smiled at me, no one else existed. He was it. He still is, over a year later, regardless of the fact that we’ve hardly seen each other since he left for his first year of college in England, and I returned to Sherling at the end of last summer. We’ve written or talked on the phone practically every day since. Because when it’s true love, distance and time don’t matter.
It was a little awkward when Maggie called “dibs” when we first saw him and his friend Eli on the beach. I told her it wasn’t up to us to decide. Especially since we hadn’t given him the chance to get to know us. He could like whoever he liked, and we needed to be accepting and not jealous of the other. I don’t know if I would’ve been as accepting of his decision had he liked Maggie instead of me. But Maggie shrugged it off and ended up flirting with his friend the entire week. And even after Eli left, there was some other tourist to attract her attention. That helped assuage the guilt since, obviously, her feelings for Kaden were as shallow as the tide pools where we searched for crabs with Parker. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t try to make me feel guilty for “taking him” from her. She says she’s teasing, but a small part of me wonders if she believes it.
I haven’t let go of Kaden’s hand since we arrived. I’m still holding it as the car rocks and jostles along the cobblestone streets and then evens out on the paved roads to eventually bounce along the dirt road that becomes the private driveway to the Harrisons’ residences. The entire time, Kaden’s answering my questions, asking some in return and listening adoringly to Parker prattle on about the train he rode last week at the zoo. I’m smiling at him when we finally come to a stop, my heart so big in my chest, I feel it might explode.
He catches the gleam in my eye and leans over to whisper, “I can’t wait to be alone with you.”
He presses a soft kiss to my lips, and I swear my heart does explode, like a thousand sparklers lighting up the night.
“What can I help you with?” I hear a male voice ask from behind the SUV when Mr. Harrison pops the trunk.
I’m lifting Parker out of his car seat when I also hear the distinct female voice coming from further up the walk, “Finally. I thought you would never get here.”
“Oh, Auntie Cassandra is here,” I tell Parker, trying to sound excited while internally rolling my eyes.
“We had to take the later ferry,” Mrs. Harrison explains with the patience of a saint to her pretentious younger sister. “But we’re here now. How are you feeling?”
All I can see is Cassandra’s sheet of shiny blonde hair that falls in a perfect wave over one shoulder in an old-Hollywood glamour sort of way.
I subconsciously twirl my pale blond ponytail through my fingers, wishing my hair had even a little of the sheen hers does. But then again, I’m sure she spends a lot of money for that gloss … and color. Mrs. Harrison’s hair is several shades darker than her sister’s golden locks.
I help Parker hop down from the car.
“Come here, you little monster,” Cassandra calls to him with arms spread wide.
Instead of running to her, Parker hides behind my legs, clutching my skirt, peeking out like he’s waiting for her to leave.
“Why so shy?” Mrs. Harrison asks him in a cooing voice. “You’re never shy, Parker.”
And it’s true. Parker is usually outspoken, even to perfect strangers.
A little boy cut in line at the playground last week, and he had no qualms telling him, “You’re not making good choices!”
I tried so hard not to laugh. Confidence is definitely not this little guy’s issue. So … it’s probably Cassandra.
“I don’t blame you,” I murmur under my breath as I crouch down to pick him up.
Mr. Harrison, Kaden and a guy I’ve never seen before—probably Cassandra’s latest fling—move past us, each carrying a suitcase.
“Guess that means you don’t want the cookies I made.” Cassandra pouts when Parker buries his face in my neck, refusing to look at her.
“You baked cookies?” Mrs. Harrison asks in surprise.
Cassandra executes her signature eye roll, which can either mean, You’re an idiot, or, You’re not serious. Mrs. Harrison laughs.
“Of course not. Please tell me you bought groceries, so we can make dinner.”
“Um … no.” Cassandra sounds insulted. “But we did order out. I was about to start without you if you didn’t arrive soon.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Mrs. Harrison teases, taking hold of her sister’s hand as they walk to the house.
Still carrying Parker, I follow them along the crushed-seashell walkway to the front door.
Mr. Harrison’s great-grandfather bought a cottage overlooking the ocean when he first acquired the property. He purchased a large plot of land, recognizing that land was where the value lay. The house was a quaint two-story beach house, and it’s still here. But this isn’t it. Before Kaden was born, his father built this sprawling beach house, that they just recently renovated with every modern amenity a few years ago. It feels brand-new. Maybe because it’s closed up half of the year and doesn’t get a lot of use.
Every time I step into this house, or even the one they own in Oaklawn, I’m transported into another life. My sister’s slicing words slip into my head as I step across the threshold, but I do my best to ignore them. Because I do belong here. As much as I belong anywhere.