An Invincible Summer (Wyndham Beach #1)(26)
Natalie’s father was the standard by which all men were measured. Art Flynn had been handsome, intelligent, warm, kind, thoughtful—and had a playful humor that she’d adored. For a while, she’d thought Jon had measured up, but once the facade had begun to crumble, he’d been left with nothing but his handsome face, and even that had begun to show the wear and tear of an addict’s life. While she wished she’d recognized the signs sooner, Natalie refused to beat herself up over it. Jon’s sins were not hers, nor would she take any responsibility for them. Her father had been one hundred percent in her corner when she’d opted to have her baby and to raise Daisy on her own, whereas Maggie had wanted her to pursue Jonathan for support. Art had disagreed, and his last gift to Natalie had made Jon’s help unnecessary. She didn’t live extravagantly, but she and Daisy were comfortable, and there’d be money for her daughter’s education.
“Jonathan Banks is out of our life now and forever,” Natalie declared when she turned on the kitchen light and picked up Boo Boo Kitty, the stuffed cat Daisy had dropped. “Case closed.”
She pulled the spiral-bound notebook containing her grandmother Lloyd’s recipes from the shelf and slapped it onto the counter and repeated, “Case closed.” She located the recipe for the scones and began to gather the ingredients and line them up next to the notebook. She’d been happy to hear her mother sound so upbeat on the phone, because in Natalie’s opinion, Maggie hadn’t been herself since she returned from her high school reunion over a month ago. There’d been nothing Nat could put her finger on, but it seemed a sadness had followed her home from Wyndham Beach. When asked, Maggie said she’d had a great time in Wyndham Beach, had spent several delightful days with her two oldest and dearest friends, and had renewed friendships with people she hadn’t seen or heard from in years.
“It was a wonderful weekend,” Maggie had told her. “I should go back more often. No one knows you like the people you grew up with, and no friends ever love you more.”
Liddy and Emma were fine, she’d told Natalie, and everything in her hometown was just swell. So why did Natalie have the feeling that something happened that had dimmed her mother’s usual sparkle just a touch? Maybe she could get her mother to talk about the reunion a little more on Sunday, see if she could intuit some slight or incident that had been unsettling. Maybe it had saddened her to visit her hometown without her husband—Nat knew it was the first time her mother had returned since her father had passed away. Or maybe she’d visited the cemetery where her mother and sister were buried.
Natalie had no way of knowing what Maggie may have found in Wyndham Beach. But just in case, she doubled the scone recipe so she’d have extras to take with her on Sunday. She’d drive to Bryn Mawr early and hopefully arrive before her sister, so she and her mom could sit in the sunroom, drink coffee, nibble on scones, and chat. Maybe without Grace’s ever-present drama, Maggie might be more inclined to talk about herself for a change. At the very least, Natalie could look forward to a pleasant hour spent with her mother and her daughter over good coffee and homemade scones, all of which added up to win-win in her book.
Chapter Six
MAGGIE
Sitting in her pretty sunroom, surrounded by her jungle of plants, with her granddaughter curled up next to her with a book and Grace and Natalie chatting amiably was Maggie’s idea of the perfect evening. There were few things that made her happier than having her girls home. Dinner had been drama-free, and her daughters had gone an entire afternoon without arguing about something inane.
“Mom, are you ready for a little more?” Grace stood, the bottle of pinot grigio poised over her own glass.
“Oh, just a splash. Thanks, Gracie.” Maggie held out her glass as Daisy slid to the floor, speaking softly to the illustrations in her board book, an owl and squirrel, both of whom wore dark glasses and berets.
“That’s about all that’s left.” Grace emptied the bottle and set it on the table.
“Wait just a moment while I get a pen and paper.” Maggie got up and went into the kitchen.
“Let me guess.” Natalie pulled a few yellowed leaves off a trailing pothos on the table next to her. “Time to make the list for Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Why do we have to make a list?” Grace frowned. “We have the exact same meal every year.”
“It’s more for me to remember what to put on my shopping list.” Maggie returned with a notepad and a pen. “Unless you’d rather go out this year for Thanksgiving dinner?”
“No,” both daughters replied at the same time.
“But we know what’s on the list, Mom. Turkey. Some of that packaged stuffing,” Natalie began.
“The cornbread kind,” Grace interjected.
“And dried cranberries and sage sausage.” Maggie began to write.
“Mashed potatoes. Roasted sweet potatoes. Green beans.” Grace ticked off on her fingers.
“And cawotts?” Daisy piped up.
“Yes. You like carrots with orange juice, so we’ll have those.” Maggie continued making notes. “And homemade cranberry sauce.” She looked up from her list. “You guys can toss a coin to see who gets to bring the appetizers and who brings dessert.”
Natalie looked at Grace. “Why don’t we both make one of each?”