Return to Summerhouse (The Summerhouse 2) - Page 12

Since Amy tended to stay with people she knew, she didn’t often have the opportunity to talk about her family. First, she told Faith about her sons, mentioning how smart they were and how good they were at sports. “I’m sorry, I’m bragging,” she said.

“Go ahead. It sounds wonderful. Tell me more.”

Amy did most of the talking and Faith helped her choose gifts for both her boys. It was when they sat down to lunch that Faith said that Amy hadn’t even mentioned her husband. There was a tone in her voice that suggested she thought all was not well between Amy and her husband.

Amy reached into her handbag and pulled out a little photo album, flipped to a picture, then handed it to Faith.

“My goodness,” Faith said, eyes wide. “Does he really look like that or it is just a good photo?”

“He looks better in person,” Amy said, then showed the other pictures of her handsome sons.

“They are all as beautiful as movie stars,” Faith said, smiling. “One time—”

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Faith said, looking at her menu.

“No, tell me,” Amy encouraged.

“Last night Zoë said some things to me and—”

“Hateful things?

“Of course. She’s Zoë,” Faith said with a smile that Amy didn’t return.

“What happened?”

“Zoë reminded me of some things that happened a long time ago, and now, seeing your husband brought it all back.”

Before she could say anything else, the waitress came to take their orders. They both got the lobster salads. When the waitress was gone, Amy leaned toward Faith. “What were you going to say?”

“Nothing important. When I was a kid I was in love with a young man who looked a bit like your husband, except he had dark hair and eyes.”

“Really?” Amy said in disbelief.

“Yes, really,” Faith said. “But I get the idea your husband comes from a good family, and—”

“Good is how you look at it. Sometimes the wrong people are put into families. My husband has a father and three older brothers who are as primitive as they come. They think tractor pulls are high art. But Stephen is at ease in a tuxedo.”

“Tyler was more of a tractor-pull person,” Faith said. “He didn’t even finish high school. He usually had grease on him from some car he was overhauling, and he rarely ate anything that wasn’t wrapped in paper. He really was the most crude, most…” Trailing off, she looked down and was silent.

“Were you in love with him?” Amy asked softly.

“With all my heart.”

Amy reached across the table and put her hand on Faith’s wrist. “So what happened to him?”

Faith laughed and the faraway look in her eyes disappeared. “I don’t know. Nothing. Ran away, I guess. Who knows? When you get down to it, you don’t actually marry the Tylers of the world, now do you?”

“I guess not,” Amy said with a sigh. “I was lucky that the man I loved had everything going for him. He’s smart and funny and considerate and a hard worker. He’s perfect.”

As the waitress put their salads in front of them, Faith said, “Come on, there has to be something about him that you don’t like. Even if it’s a small thing.”

“No, nothing,” Amy said honestly. “I wanted to throw the pots and pans at him when he told me he wanted me to go on this trip, but I’m coming to think that he was right.”

“You aren’t going to tell him that, are you?”

“Of course not,” Amy said. “He may be perfect, but I am not.”

Tags: Jude Deveraux The Summerhouse Science Fiction
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