That Summer Read Online Free PDF Page B

not a sophomore.”
    “In sophistication Liam is at least ten years older than you, Anne. He comes from a family where you have to grow up fast. You've had a more sheltered life.”
    “Don't you like Liam, Mom? I thought you liked him!”
    “Of course I like Liam. Both your father and I are very fond of him.”
    “Then why isn't it okay for me to like him?”
    “It's okay for you to like him, but not as a boyfriend, Anne. As I said before, he's too old for you.”
    I said stubbornly, “I want to go to this party. Leslie invited me and I want to go.”
    “We'll compromise. Your father will drive you and pick you up at eleven.”
    “Mom!”
    “Take it or leave it, Anne.”
    “Oh, all right.” I stomped out of the kitchen and threw some sticks for the dogs to relieve my frustration.
    Daddy took me to the party and came in with me to make certain that Leslie's parents were going to be there.
    “If they're not here you're going home,” he told me.
    I was mortified to be escorted by my father and when he went up to Mr. Bartholomew and spoke to him I wanted to cringe.
    The two men spoke together for a few minutes, then Mr. Bartholomew put a hand on my father's shoulder. Daddy said something, then he turned and walked back to me. “It's okay, Leslie's father is going to be here. I'll pick you up at eleven.”
    “Okay,” I said sullenly.
    My father left and I moved shyly to join the gathering of young people on the back patio. Unfortunately, the crowd did not include Liam.
    Andy Bartholomew built the family farm, Thornton Hill, ten years before. It had white clapboard siding and was as big as a hotel, with windows everywhere. I had never been inside, but all of those windows must have made it very bright.
    The back patio was brick and very large. Hamburger and hotdog rolls were piled on a big gas grill, and there was a keg. A crowd of seniors, dressed in khaki or jean shorts and T-shirts, had broken up into small groups and were drinking beer and laughing and talking with the comfortable ease of people who knew each other very well. I knew most of them by sight, but I was quite sure that none of them knew me.
    I felt like I was the only girl present who didn't have blonde hair.
    Mom was right,
I thought dismally. I
shouldn’t have come.
    Then salvation arrived. Liam came around the corner of the house and advanced out on to the patio. I went to him the way a steel shaving flies to a magnet.
    “What are you doing here, Annie?” he asked.
    “Leslie invited me.”
    His blue eyes narrowed slightly. “She did? When?”
    “She called me yesterday.”
    “Ah.”
    “What's ‘ah’? Is there something wrong in her inviting me?”
    “I'm surprised your parents let you come.”
    “Daddy is picking me up at eleven.”
    “Liam.” It was Leslie herself. She wore jean shorts and a white shirt, which she had tied to expose her perfect midriff. Her golden hair hung loose around her shoulders and her eyes were a brilliant green. She was stunning.
    Liam gave her a long, silent look. Then he said, “How's it going, Leslie?”
    She linked her arm in his. “Come along with me. There's something I want to show you.”
    I watched them walk away feeling like the little match girl with her nose pressed up against the windows of the rich. I wished I hadn't come.
    “How about a soda?” I turned and it was Andy Bartholomew. “Your father doesn't approve of beer, but I can offer you a Coke, or a Sprite.”
    I blushed. “I don't want to be a trouble, Mr. Bartholomew. “
    “Not at all. Come with me and we'll fix you up.”
    Andy Bartholomew had been a halfback for the New York Giants and a few years after retirement, he had bought this property in Virginia and built a home and a stable. He was a very large man and whenever I had met him he had always been genial. My dad had once said he was the perfect conversational partner; his two topics were horses and football.
    I accepted a Sprite from the table where the soda was being kept