About this book:

A dusty brass key, a cryptic handwritten note, and the chance to spend a summer in a forgotten Vermont hollow—that’s all it takes for seventeen-year-old June to trade suburban boredom for the daunting project of rebuilding her estranged grandfather’s 1968 Shasta Compact trailer. Arthur Vance is a gruff, grease-stained enigma who speaks in grunts and demands labor, not conversation. But as they strip rotted birch, wrestle with stubborn wiring, and uncover secrets hidden beneath the floorboards, June begins to realize that this rusted relic holds more than just memories of her grandmother—it carries the weight of ten years of silence, unspoken apologies, and a family fractured by pride.

*The Summer I Rebuilt My Grandfather’s Trailer* is a tender, gritty coming-of-age story about the slow work of mending what’s broken—both aluminum and heart. With vivid prose that captures the smell of pine needles, the scrape of a file, and the quiet ache of unresolved history, this novel invites you to pull up a rusty step stool, grab a ball-peen hammer, and discover that sometimes the most important journeys start with a single piece of sagging canvas. Perfect for readers who loved *The Nickel Boys* or *Where the Crawdads Sing*, but with more rivets and late-night coffee.