Broken Hearts, Fences and Other Things to Mend Read Online Free PDF

up and consider
    the issue handled. Walter wasn’t even pretending to pay atten-
    tion anymore; he was looking down at his phone, no doubt play-
    ing Bait and Switch, the fi shing game he was addicted to. “If you
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    would call your dad and let him know the plan? And then we can
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    confi rm your dates.”
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    I was on the verge of telling her I didn’t think I could go to the
    Hamptons after all, and she’d just have to call up the laird and
    tell him I was coming, when my mom’s phone rang. “I have to get
    that,” she said, looking down at the screen. “Work. Gem, just let
    me know when you’ve talked to your dad, okay?” She hustled out,
    saying hello in her realtor voice as she left, Walter trailing be-
    hind, all before I’d even decided if I was going to be able to go
    back there.
    I reached up and pulled open my curtains for the fi rst time in
    days. What I’d done the summer I was eleven was the worst of
    me, a time I never liked to think back on if I could avoid it, and I
    wasn’t sure that being in a place that would remind me most
    strongly of my biggest mistakes was the best idea.
    But it had been a long time ago, I reasoned as I squinted out
    at the sun. And I had no reason to think that any of the Bridges—
    especially Hallie— had ever returned to the Hamptons, particu-
    larly after what had happened. And I really, really didn’t want to
    spend the summer hearing about fi sh.
    I looked around at the mounds of tissues that surrounded me
    and realized I was getting sick of wearing nothing but my paja-
    mas. It actually had gotten a little tedious, spending all this time
    in bed. Plus, according to Sophie and WebMD, I might be in dan-
    ger of developing rickets. It would probably be good to get out,
    and if I was away in the Hamptons, there would be no danger of
    running into Teddy and neck- tattoo girl. And at least if I had to
    live with this broken heart, I could do it at the beach.
    I weighed my options one last time, trying to see if I was re-
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    ally going to be able to do this. I decided that I was, lay there for
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    one minute longer, then rolled out of bed and headed off to call
    my dad.
    O O O
    “Shorter,” Sophie commanded as I glared at her from under-
    neath my curtain of sopping- wet hair as my stylist, whose
    name was Sigrid and who I wasn’t entirely sure understood En-
    glish, opened her scissors with a terrifying snap .
    “Not shorter,” I said quickly, grabbing my hair, just to make
    things clear. Sigrid rolled her eyes and stalked to the other side
    of the salon, where she fl opped down into a chair, somehow man-
    aging to look tragic and Swedish as she did this. However, a mo-
    ment later, I saw her look around furtively and pick up her copy
    of Once Bitten, the very controversial and highly erotic vampire-
    love novel that had been burning up the bestseller charts for months
    now. My mom had forbidden me to read it, but there was no need—
    there was no way I was reading it after I saw that she had a copy
    hidden in her closet. I mean, gross.
    “Gemma,” Sophie said to me in her warning voice, and I turned
    back to her.
    “Sophie,” I returned in mine.
    Things had moved very quickly after I’d learned of the Scottish
    plan and called my father. I had managed to get out of driving to
    the Hamptons with Walter when I realized it would take us three
    hours to get there. I’d convinced my mom to let me take the train
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    instead and arranged for my dad to pick me up at the station. I’d
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    told all my regular babysitting clients (sitting had been pretty much
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    the way I’d gotten all my disposable income since I was about
    twelve) that I