Free Summer Beach Reads 5-Book Bundle: Beachcombers, Heat Wave, Moon Shell Beach, Summer House, Summer Breeze by Nancy Thayer Page B

counter and loading the car with groceries, she was talking out loud to herself.
    At home, she quickly stashed anything that neededrefrigeration, and let the rest wait while she grabbed up a pad of paper and pen. Then she thundered up the stairs and into Emma’s room.
    “I’ve got the best idea!”
    Emma moaned and pulled her pillow over her head.
    Undaunted, Abbie sat on the side of Emma’s bed. “I was at the grocery store, and I heard two women talking about how they need summer help, and I thought, we could do that stuff, and we can get fab references from tons of people on the island. We can do anything, but we don’t want to lock ourselves into a nine-to-five grind, at least I don’t, so listen to this!” She cleared her throat, then read:
    “ ‘Do you need an educated, responsible young woman for a temporary job? A babysitter in two hours for seven children ages two months to sixteen years? Someone classy to take Grandmother to church or theater? An instant secretary who can fax, email, type or text? Nantucket Mermaids has it all. Excellent references. Discretion guaranteed.’ What do you think?”
    Emma didn’t say a word.
    “Great! I knew you’d love it! Mermaids—mer
maids
, get it? Okay, I’m off to the newspaper now to get the ad in for this week’s issue. See you!”
    Abbie rushed out of the room without shutting the door behind her. At least that would make Emma get out of bed, even if only to shut the door.

12

Marina
    Thursday morning, Marina walked into town. The woman Marina had met at the Downy Flake had told her the book sorting would be done on the ground floor of the library, which Marina realized meant the basement. She felt oddly shy as she walked down the stairs from the main floor, and she was kind of pleased by that. At least she wasn’t feeling pathetic.
    The door to the room at the end of the corridor was open. Marina could see towers of boxes of books, and long tables holding more books, and people lifting books from boxes and carrying them here and there. It all had the peaceful, appealing industry of an anthill.
    She stepped inside and scanned the room for the woman she’d met at the Downy Flake. She didn’t see her, but a slender woman in her early fifties noticed Marina and smiled.
    “Hello. Have you come to help us?”
    “Yes. Hi. I’m Marina Warren. I’m renting here for six months, and a friend of Jim Fox told me you all might need some help.”
    “Oh,
you’re
the woman renting Jim’s cottage! Welcome. I’m Sheila Lester. And we’re
so
glad you’re here. Half our volunteers haven’t shown up, but who can blame them on a heavenly day like this. I’m sure they’re all out swimming or fishing or working in their gardens.” She chuckled.
    Sheila Lester wore her salt-and-pepper hair short and spiky. Above her coral tee shirt she wore a black cord with one deep turquoise bead that accentuated the clear turquoise of her eyes. Marina liked her at once.
    “Well, I can come as often as you’d like,” Marina said.
    “That’s swell. Now, let me show you the ropes. Although, as I’m sure you can tell, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist. Basically, you grab a box and sort the books, putting them on whichever table they belong.”
    On large white sheets of cardboard, written in enormous red letters, were the categories: Fiction, Nonfiction, Cookbooks, Gardening, Mysteries, Children, and Nantucket.
    “Take that corner,” Sheila suggested, pointing to a tower of brown boxes.
    Marina set to work. The closest table was already piled with books, so she shoved them aside to make room for a few piles of her own. Soon she was moving around the room, placing the books in their categories. The other volunteers were all older than Marina, but they were pleasant and funny, and it felt good, to be part of this productive, literate group. Before she knew it, it was noon.
    “Lunchtime, everyone,” Sheila announced. “Thank you all for coming. See you tomorrow