An Invincible Summer (Wyndham Beach) Page 20

  “I’ve hired someone to run the sale. I won’t be here because you’re right. The process would make me insane. So we’ll have the sale, and anything that doesn’t sell gets donated. I suggest you start thinking about what you want from this place before then.”

  “Do you already know what you want to keep, Mom?” Natalie asked.

  “Yes, for the most part. I’ve more or less inventoried in my head, so I’m clear on what I want to take.”

  “How ’bout we take a few hours now to tag whatever you’re taking with you, so Grace and I know what’s left for us to fight over?”

  “No fighting. There’s plenty for both of you. But yes, I should tag my things sooner rather than later. You can help with that. Thanks.”

  Well, that didn’t go too badly, Maggie thought as she searched a desk drawer for a pad of sticky notes. Could have been worse. For a moment she did think it was going to spin out in a flood of tears, but it ended well.

  She turned back to the table and realized Grace was crying.

  “What, Gracie?” Maggie asked.

  “I was just thinking how this has been my home my entire life.” Grace reached for the box of tissues that sat on the wide window ledge. Maggie had left it there when she’d had a crying spell of her own in the wee hours of the morning. “Everything that ever happened to me started here.”

  Natalie sat next to Grace and nodded. “She’s right, you know,” she told Maggie. “Our whole lives have revolved around this house.”

  “I understand that, girls, I do. This house has been the hub of my life for thirty years. Some of the most important times of my life began—or ended—under this roof. But I’ll never move forward with my life as long as I stay here.” She watched her daughters’ faces as she spoke. “And it’s time for me to do that.”

  “Do you think Daddy would understand?” Grace blew her nose, then got up to toss the tissue in the trash.

  Maggie nodded. “I do. He was the last person in the world who would have held any of us back from doing something we believed in.”

  “Yeah, he was great about things like that.” Natalie wiped away a tear of her own. “Even when I told him I was pregnant and that I’d kicked Jonathan out, but I was keeping the baby, he never questioned me. Never asked if I knew what I was doing. He just told me to be true to myself and do what I felt was right and he’d be there for me one hundred percent. And he was.”

  “He always said that. And think before you act because you’ll have to take responsibility for your actions.” Grace winced. “No small bit of irony there.”

  “Well, I do believe if he were here now, he’d encourage us each to live our lives and be true to ourselves.” Maggie leaned back against the counter. “Don’t think I haven’t been hearing his words in my head these past few days.”

  “Mom, if you’re okay with selling the house and moving back to Wyndham Beach, I’m okay with it, too. I’ll miss having dinner with you on Sundays, and Daisy will miss seeing you so often, but you’re right. It’s your life. Your choice.” Natalie tapped her fingers on the tabletop. “I remember that house. I always loved visiting Gramma in the summer.”

  “Me too. It was always fun,” Grace agreed.

  “Well, don’t expect it to look much like what you remember. The new owners changed it a lot. Thank God, we can paint over most of the whiteness, which made the house seem so cold. And of course there’s the addition, which changed the second floor and the kitchen. But in retrospect I kind of like the new master bedroom and the bath, and the kitchen could be fun to cook in. Once we get rid of all the white, of course.”

  “Mom, no offense, but you’re not much of a cook,” Natalie pointed out. “Dad and takeout saved us when we were growing up.”

  “I can’t argue that your father was the real cook in the family, but I don’t remember any complaints the nights I put dinner on the table. Besides, I can learn. Yesterday I ordered all Ina Garten’s cookbooks. I’ve been watching her shows on TV,” Maggie replied. “She makes everything look easy, so I’m game.”

  “Well, as long as you’re happy, I’m happy.” Natalie raised her coffee mug in a toast. “Here’s to your new life, Mom. May it shine.”

  “I’m with Nat.” Grace joined the toast, then rinsed her empty mug out under the faucet and set it aside. “So let’s put that pack of sticky notes to work. Can we start in the dining room? There are a few things I’d love to have if you’re not taking them with you.”

  “Me too. I’ve had my eye on that soup tureen you and Dad bought in Italy that time.” Natalie led the way.

  “Wait, you mean the white one with the painted flowers?” Grace followed, her voice trailing behind. “I wanted that . . .”

  Maggie smiled. She’d planned on taking the tureen with her. There would no doubt be negotiations ongoing all day—and hopefully no arguments—but in the end, it would all work out just fine.

  Chapter Thirteen

  GRACE

  “Will you be living in Wyndham Beach?” the Realtor asked Grace after they’d completed the closing on the house on Cottage Street.

  “I told my mother I’d stay and help her get settled, but I have a home in Pennsylvania,” Grace replied. A home she’d put on the market and was hoping to sell sooner rather than later, but no need to get into all that. And there was still that question of a job. Thank God for the rainy-day fund her father had left her.

  “Well, it was good of you to stand in for her today. How lucky is she to have an attorney in the family.” Barbara closed her briefcase with a snap.

  “I’m not here as her lawyer, just her proxy,” Grace explained. “Mom’s gotten several offers on her Bryn Mawr house, and she’s trying to decide among them. As soon as that house is under contract, she’ll be here. Most of her furniture will be arriving today, so I’ll have my hands full.” She glanced at her phone for the time. “Actually, I should be getting back to the house. The movers are due in about an hour, so I need to be there.”

  “I will let you go then. Here are the keys.” Barbara handed Grace an envelope. “And a list of contractors who worked on the house, as your mother requested, so she’ll know who to call if she has any questions about any of the systems or whatever.”

  Grace picked up the folder of documents that she’d signed in her mother’s stead. Once the FOR SALE sign on the Bryn Mawr house had been placed on the lawn, the phone had begun to ring nonstop. With the closing of the Wyndham Beach house imminent, Maggie had signed a power of attorney in order that Grace might take her place at the closing table in Massachusetts. She’d also asked Grace to oversee the arrival of the moving van. There’d be furniture to place and a number of boxes to be emptied. Since leaving her law office behind, Grace hadn’t had much to do other than help her mother pack up a lifetime of possessions. It had taken several weeks, but much had been donated, much had been sold, and much had found its way to the rented storage unit Grace and Natalie were sharing. Maggie’s house in Bryn Mawr was now empty—even the stager’s furniture had been removed. Maggie was staying with Natalie until the house was sold and she could leave Bryn Mawr behind.

  Sometimes Grace secretly thought it was just a little strange that her mother could turn her back on thirty-some years of her life and move on—or move back, depending on how you looked at Maggie’s return to Wyndham Beach. She’d admitted as much to Liddy, with whom she was staying until the house was ready for her mother’s arrival.

  “I can’t help it. I just think it’s out of character for Mom to just decide on the spur of the moment to leave Bryn Mawr behind and move here,” Grace had said over breakfast at Beach Fries, the new beachside café Liddy had taken her to the morning after the settlement.

  “Your mother’s family has very deep roots here, as you know. She grew up in that house and has a strong connection to it,” Liddy reminded her. “Just as you’ll always feel a pull toward the house you grew up in. Who’s to say that someday you might see that house for sale and want to buy it?”

/>   “I get that part. It just seemed so sudden. I’m a little concerned that maybe she didn’t think it through all the way. Like it was just something that occurred to her, and she thought it sounded like a good idea.”

  Liddy laughed. “You know your mother better than that. She doesn’t act on a whim when something important is at stake. I think she’s missed Wyndham Beach for a long time. I’m pretty sure she’s wanted to come back more often than she had over the years.”

  “She could have. I don’t know what stopped her.”

  “When you and your sister were still in school, and your grandmother was still alive, the trips back here made a lot of sense. You spent most of those summers here. Once you were in college and doing summers abroad, your parents were free to travel to other places. I don’t think you or Natalie have been here since your grandmother passed.”

  Grace frowned, trying to remember. “We haven’t. At least, I haven’t. But you know, we always traveled as a family,” Grace reminded her. “The four of us took lots of trips together when we were kids.”

  “Yes, but once you two were out of the house, your mom and dad no longer had to plan their trips around school vacations. They could go anywhere, anytime they wanted.”

  “And they sure did. They went everywhere.” Grace smiled, remembering. She never knew when she’d get a call asking her to pop in at her parents’ home once or twice to bring in mail and water plants.

  “It’s no secret your father preferred Europe to Wyndham Beach. Not that I blame him. We don’t have any grand museums or historic places to visit. We’re just a small beach town here on the Massachusetts coast.”

  “Well, it’s a charming town. In that respect, I do understand why Mom wants to come back. The house itself has changed so much, though. I hardly recognized the place. The addition has seriously tripped up my memory. Nothing looks the same.” Grace took a bite of the excellent french toast.

  “At least the previous owners had great taste and enough money to do the job right,” Liddy said. “I’d kill for a kitchen like the one they put in. Top-of-the-line everything. It would be an absolute joy to cook in that kitchen.”

  The door at the front of the café opened and a tall, well-built blond man wearing jeans and a black long-sleeve T-shirt came in. His glance went from table to table, as if taking inventory. It stopped at the table where Grace sat with Liddy. A moment later, he walked toward them.

  “Morning, Lydia,” he said.

  Liddy turned and looked up at him. “Where’s your uniform, Chief?”

  “I took the morning off.” He smiled at Liddy, then at Grace. “Hi.”

  “Oh, Grace, this is our chief of police, Brett Crawford.” Liddy looked up at the chief, one eyebrow raised. “Grace is Maggie Flynn’s daughter.”

  “I thought you looked familiar,” he said to Grace. “I saw you and your sister at your grandmother’s funeral.”

  “Chief Crawford went to school with your mom and me,” Liddy told her.

  “There’s a rumor going around that your mother bought the old Wakefield place, your grandmother’s house.” He leaned on the back of an empty chair that sat tucked under their table for four.

  “Not a rumor,” Grace said. “She closed on the house yesterday. Well, I closed for her. She’s tying up some loose ends on the house she’s selling in Pennsylvania.”

  “So she’ll be moving back, then.”

  Close up, Grace could see silver woven through his blond hair, but even so, he was exceptionally good looking. “I’d guess within the next month or so.”

  “I’ll be sure to stop by and see her after she gets settled. In the meantime, if you need anything, help at the house, whatever, you can call me at the police station.” He straightened up.

  “I’m hoping I don’t need to call the police while I’m here, but thanks.”

  “Don’t hesitate if you need to. Liddy, I’ll be seeing you.”

  “You betcha.”

  After he walked to the counter to put in a takeout order, Grace turned to Liddy. “He seems nice.”

  “Yeah, he’s a nice guy. Good police chief. He cares a lot about the community.” Liddy looked as if she wanted to say something else but thought better of it.

  “Well, at least I know who’ll show up if I ever have to call 911.” Grace finished the last few bites of her french toast. “That was delicious, Liddy. Thank you so much for recommending this place. I’ll definitely be back.”

  “There are several really good restaurants in town. Wyndham Beach has changed over the past few years. New businesses opening up. Young families moving in. The new art center that Emma opened last year is doing very well. Stop over and see the exhibition of Jessie’s work before some of the paintings are moved to the gallery in Boston in a few weeks.”

  “My mom told me the show is stunning and that several galleries in Boston have been vying to show her paintings. We always knew Jess had a lot of talent. I’m so glad people in other places are going to get to see her work. I will definitely go while I’m here.”

  Thinking about Jessie’s suicide made Grace sick to her stomach. The girls had been the same age, and Jess had been Grace’s best summer friend for years until their lives took them in different directions. Once out of high school, Grace had studied abroad in the summers. She tried to recall the last time she and Jessie had spent time together and couldn’t. She wished she’d kept in closer touch. The fact of her suicide had hit Grace like a runaway train. She’d never known Jessie to be depressed, but then they hadn’t been close in years. She knew the loss of her daughter had broken Liddy’s heart. Maggie hadn’t shared the details, but Grace did know that Liddy’s husband left her a year after Jessie’s death.

  Grace and Liddy parted in front of the café, Liddy to head home after promising to stop over later to help, Grace to make a quick stop at the general store to pick up a few things for the house—eggs, bread, peanut butter, ice tea mix, and pretzels. She had a list of things she wanted to accomplish and needed to get started.

  The movers placed the furniture in the dining room and the living room after putting down the oriental rugs, though Grace knew eventually everything would be moved once painters were hired. She wasn’t sure where Maggie would want the wingback chairs, so she set them to flank the fireplace. Maggie had told her to pick one of the bedrooms on the second floor for herself, and she’d chosen the one in the back. It had a perfect view of not only the backyard, but the bay as well. When she opened the window, the crisp, salty air drifted in on the spring breeze, and she closed her eyes and inhaled several times before she recalled having seen her mother do exactly the same thing. She found sheets for her bed in one of the boxes, then went across the hall and made up the bed in the master bedroom. She posed herself lounging on her mother’s bed, took a picture with her phone, and sent it to Maggie in a text.

  You told me I could have any bedroom I wanted. I picked this one. Love the glass shower in the bathroom, btw—and that walk-in closet is the size of my first apartment! Love it! Thanks, Mom!

  Minutes later, Maggie texted back, Hahahaha. Get off my bed. Xoxo

  After spending that first week in Wyndham Beach, Grace began to understand why her mother was so attached to the town. She’d gotten into the habit of walking to the beach after dinner with her mug of coffee and sitting on the rocks before the sun set. She’d closed her eyes and listened to the waves roll softly onto the sand. She’d watched the small birds chase the retreating water and poke at the sand and made a mental note to buy a bird guide so she knew what they were, and so she could tell one gull from another. She’d stayed as long as her coffee lasted before heading back to the house. For the first time she could remember, every day belonged only to her. There were no demands being made, and no one to answer to, and she was determined to make the most of it.

  And she had time to breathe, time to reflect on the life she’d be leaving behind if she chose to stay once Maggie was settled. She’d thought she’d miss Zach, but she found
that being away from him and the close quarters of the firm had put things in perspective in a way she doubted would have happened had she stayed in Pennsylvania. Amber had been arrested but made bail and was a long way from a trial—probably years away. She knew cases like this didn’t hit the docket quickly—and Grace’s lawyer had told her there was still a debate about whether or not Amber’d spend time in prison even if she were to be convicted. Grace had given her statement to the FBI, grateful for the small favor of the agent being a woman who appeared more sympathetic than appalled at the purpose of the blog. Art’s former partner, George, had purchased the firm and had kept most of their clients. Zach had left Center City and was working with a firm in West Chester. Grace had no second thoughts about having resigned from Flynn Law or her decision to sell the house she and Zach had bought together. The only thing she wasn’t sure about was her next move, but as her mother had pointed out, she could take time to figure out what she wanted to do and where she wanted to be. May was a beautiful month in Wyndham Beach, and for now, that was where Grace wanted to be.

  It wasn’t long before Grace remembered why she’d loved visiting her grandmother every summer—the smell of the sea and the way the sun shone on the water. How could she have forgotten how much she’d loved this place?

  Once the stress from her departure from Flynn Law eased a bit, Grace wanted to revisit her blog to offer her apologies to her followers for having gone on hiatus so suddenly, but she found that after Timothy had shut it down, the FBI had frozen it as part of the evidence against Amber. She wished she’d had a chance to let her online friends know she wished them all well.

  Maggie arrived on Memorial Day weekend, bringing with her a few things she hadn’t wanted to trust to the movers—her grandmother’s china and her jewelry, and a few pieces of art she especially prized. She approved of everything Grace had done to make the house livable and hadn’t moved so much as a vase. Liddy and Emma had been waiting for Maggie at the house, and after a tour, the three of them made their way into the backyard to inspect the flower beds, discuss where Maggie would plant what, and whether or not her mother’s once-beautiful perennial beds had survived the last owners.