So Close to You (So Close to You - Trilogy) Read Online Free PDF

comedian.”
    He walks over to the table and sits down. He’s in jeans and a flannel shirt, his regular work-wear.
    “Are you going into the store today?” I ask.
    He nods and fills a plate with food. My grandpa puts down the newspaper and picks up his fork. Mom sits down at the table. There’s a moment of silence as we all concentrate on eating.
    “How were your last days of school, Lydia?” Mom asks after a minute.
    “Good. I’m glad it’s over.”
    Dad points his fork in my direction. “Now you can start working for me full-time. Things are getting crazy down at the shop.”
    Dad owns and runs Bentley’s Hardware, and there always seems to be some crisis happening that forces him to go in at all hours. But we all know he loves it—even though he complains, I think he would move into the stockroom if Mom let him.
    “Maybe. I’m actually trying to get this internship. At the paper.” I gesture at the East Hampton Star folded next to my grandfather’s coffee mug.
    Mom smiles. “Honey, that’s great!”
    “I don’t know if I’ll get it. I’m waiting to hear. But I sent them some of my clips from this year, and the editor said he liked them.”
    “Which clips?” Grandpa asks. “The one about the only female football player?”
    I nod. “And the op-ed about gun violence.”
    “That’s a good one. You’ll be a shoo-in.”
    “Maybe you can still help out part-time,” Dad says. “You’ve got to learn the business for that happy day when I’m sipping mai tais on the beach and plumbing equipment is but a distant memory.”
    “You’ll never retire. We all know you love it.”
    “Don’t say that. Your mom and I have our hearts set on a condo in Boca Raton.”
    “Yeah, right.” I laugh, though the jokes put me slightly on edge. Dad is always talking about how I’ll take over the store someday, and how his legacy will live on in me. I’m not sure he truly believes that I have no intention of sticking around Montauk forever.
    “What time are you going in?” Mom asks him.
    “In an hour or so. Stacy called in sick for her shift.” He turns to me. “You gonna come help?”
    I pause, pushing the last piece of French toast around in circles. “I can’t today.”
    “Why not?”
    Dad puts his fork down and watches me over steepled hands. He and I have the same high cheekbones, the same heavy-lashed green eyes. But instead of his almost-black hair, I somehow ended up with deep auburn. “If I wasn’t in labor with you for two days, I’d wonder if you were mine,” my blond, brown-eyed mother likes to say.
    “We’re going to Camp Hero today,” Grandpa answers. I stare down at my plate. There’s a heavy silence, and I know my parents are exchanging a look.
    “Hmmm.” Mom stands up and starts carrying the dishes over to the sink. “Are you sure that’s what you want to do today, Lydia?”
    I glance at my parents. They’re both waiting for my reaction. I know they think my grandfather is slightly unhinged—and sometimes I think the same thing. I also know that they’re unwilling to play along and often wonder why I am. But they’ve never stood in the way of me making my own choices about anything, and that’s one of the things I love the most about them.
    My mom is giving me an out with her question. I could say no, call Hannah, and go hang out at the beach all day. But then I’d be disappointing my grandfather, and I can’t bear to do that.
    I turn to smile at him. “It’s exactly what I want to do today.”

C HAPTER 3
     
    W e drive down the hill near our house, past the red-and-white brick elementary school, around the pond in the middle of town, through the short downtown strip, and out onto the highway. I can see the beach and the water beyond the dunes. There are people walking the shore even though the air is thick and foggy. The weather reminds me of the first day I went to Camp Hero: the dark clouds forming circles above the water, the waves rough against the rocks.
    “I