The High Season

1

Every summer Ruthie gave away her house by the sea. During the month of May, she packed and polished. Sneakers were scooped up from their kicked-off positions. Earrings, loose change, buttons were swept off the tops of bureaus. Post-its with phone numbers marooned from their meaning had been thrown away, anything threadbare or worn dumped into one of the summer boxes and sealed with squealing tape. T-shirts had been whisked off the hooks on the backs of bathroom doors, and fragrant chunks of Provençal soaps nestled in blue-and-white bowls by the sinks.

Ruthie knew how to create a house that looked lived-in, but lightly. When her summer tenants walked through the door, they breathed in peace and lemons. In this house no one ever had a sleepless night. No child slammed a door, screaming of injustice. No one was ever sick, or sorrowful, or more than pleasantly tired. Summer was a forever season, and held no pain.

With a fistful of yesterday s news, she polished the picture window, spotless enough to slam into and raise a bruise. Now she had a better view of her daughter slacking off. In the yard Jem was doing what teenagers do, texting while doing a chore in a halfhearted fashion, loading gear into the truck bed with one hand while her thumb jitterbugged on a screen.

It was the first big weekend of summer, and winter s trap had sprung. All along the hundred miles of Long Island, from Manhattan to the East End, skeins of highway were traffic-snarled by eight in the morning. On the North Fork families were spilling out, stretching and inhaling after the dawn ride from Manhattan, parents having bawled at their children, still thickheaded with dreams, to pull on shorts and get the hell in the car. Barbecues were rolled out from the garage, convertible tops folded down, beach chairs snapped to.

High above the creeping cars, helicopter blades purled the air as they carried the rich and the lucky to the Hamptons on the South Fork. At the airport drivers

Judy Blundell is a New York Times bestselling author. Her novel What I Saw and How I Lied won the 2008 National Book Award for Young People s Literature. The High Season is her first novel for adults. She lives on Long Island with her husband and daughter.

A mesmerizing, head-spinning and sometimes madcap-hilarious take of have and have-nots. People (Book of the Week)

In the smart, breezy, sweet spot between Meg Wolitzer and Elin Hilderbrand. Entertainment Weekly

Blundell knows the territory. . . . Her account of Ruthie s coming to grips with a career, a daughter and a community in flux is as touching as it is convincing. The Wall Street Journal

A huge page-turner . . . so compelling . . . a classic beach read, but very smart, very intelligently written. Us Weekly, Emily Giffin s Summer Reading Recommendations

An acid-laced domestic drama set during one golden summer on the moneyed, beachy North Fork of Long Island. The New York Times

Judy Blundell wields words like an oyster knife in this shimmering story of art, money, and celebrity. Helen Simonson, New York Times bestselling author of The Summer Before the War

A wry, often hilarious story of a woman trying to keep it together when everything is going so, so wrong. Real Simple

[A] perfect book for your beach bag even if you re not Long Island-bound. Vogue

If you loved The Affair, you ll love this book. Glamour

The High Season is packed with quirky characters and charm that will last all summer long. Hello Giggles

The High Season goes beyond light summer fare. It s a bit like Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous but with Jane Austen s type of biting wit and keen eye toward the human heart as an undercurrent. Pulse Magazine

The Platonic ideal of a beach read. Greenwich Sentinel

The sophisticated and delicious portrayal of subtle class warfare at the shore would make a perfect beach book, but it s a pleasure to read any time. Library Journal (starred review)

The High Season is touching, funny, and emotionally precise, recognizable yet full of surprises. Forget the Hamptons: