The Sweetest Summer: A Bayberry Island Novel by Susan Donovan Page B

enough to get out of bed and sit on the main staircase at the Safe Haven. Voices carried in that big old house, and when Mona forgot to close the huge pocket doors to the formal dining room, they got to watch the proceedings, too.
    For most children, it would be unnerving to see your friends’ moms hanging around your dining room every Sunday evening dressed like mythological sea vixens, but for the Flynn kids, it was just the way things were.
    While the ladies finished their business, Clancy shovedhis hands in the pockets of his uniform shorts and wandered out toward Mona’s front walkway, the dogs at his heels. He threw a stick toward the backyard and they raced off.
    Clancy turned his gaze east, over the Atlantic. As he often did, he began searching for the breakthrough stars, the first few pinpoints of celestial light to leave their mark on the blank slate of nightfall. He widened and softened his gaze, and like magic, they appeared. As a kid he’d been fascinated by the idea that all those billions of stars and galaxies had been up there all day long, hidden from view by only a thin curtain of sunshine. The stars hadn’t disappeared and reappeared—it was just the perspective that had changed.
    Even now, as a cop, he found he returned to that certainty again and again. He often discovered that the truth was right there in front of him, visible only when he widened and softened his gaze and waited patiently for the glare to fade. A change of perspective worked wonders.
    His thoughts went to the chick from the ferry, and he decided he’d rely on his tried-and-true method with her, as well. After all, he hadn’t gotten anywhere by trying to force his memory to work. It still bugged the hell out of him that he knew her from someplace yet couldn’t figure out where. So tomorrow, once the parade was over, he would get her name from the ferry manifest and find out where she was staying. Then, he’d pull back, relax, and wait for the spark of recognition to reveal itself.
    Because, dammit, he did recognize her. And it was driving him crazy trying to figure out why she felt so
familiar
.
    The front door of the cottage creaked open, spilling lamplight onto his mother’s unruly rosebushes. The ladies filed out chatting and laughing. The dogs abandoned their stick and ran toward the voices.
    “Spying on us again, Clancy?” Abigail Foster gave him a friendly wink. “Hey, boys,” she said, bending down to pat the dogs’ large heads.
    “I could have you arrested for loitering,” Izzy McCracken added.
    “Hold on while I get my cuffs,” Polly said, snorting in appreciation of her own wit. “Hello, Earl. Yo, Mr. T.” She rubbed Earl’s ear and kissed Tripod on his nose.
    “Evening, ’maids.” Clancy gave them a gallant tip of his ball cap, stepping aside and gesturing for them to pass him on the sand-strewn walkway. “Enjoy your stroll home. It’s a lovely night.”
    “Yes, indeed,” Layla O’Brien said.
    “Good luck this week.” Darinda Darswell stopped in front of Clancy, smiled, and gave him a peck on the cheek. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate like every year, but do try to take a few minutes to enjoy it, too. Thank you for being such a wonderful chief of police.” She squeezed his hand, turned, and walked through the garden gate.
    “She’s right, you know.” Clancy felt his mother’s soft touch on his back. “We are all very lucky you decided to come back to the island.”
    Clancy turned toward her, smiling to see she’d already exchanged her Spandex and wig for a pair of khaki slacks and a well-worn cotton blouse.
    He wrapped an arm around his mother’s shoulders and gently pulled her closer. She felt frail to him, tinier than just a couple months ago. Her latest rheumatology checkup on the mainland hadn’t produced the best of news. Her lab results were high, and the doctor added yet another medication to combat painful swelling in her joints. Along with all the other pressure he