An Invincible Summer (Wyndham Beach #1)(30)

Nat passed around the glasses, and Grace filled them.

“To Chris,” Grace said. “With thanks for his thoughtfulness.”

“And may he be with us next year,” his mother added as she lifted her glass.

“Thank you, Chris. You’re a good boy,” Liddy said, at which everyone laughed and patted Emma on the back. “We know it’s because you raised him right, Em.”

“Thank you.” Emma took a sip of wine.

“Credit where it’s due,” Maggie added.

“So what shall we do between now and dinner?” Grace asked.

“Cards?” Natalie offered. “Or Monopoly?”

“Monopoly!”

Everyone agreed.

Maggie found the game box and brought it into the kitchen, setting it up on the table overlooking the yard. As the Monopoly money was distributed, they finished the bottle of wine they’d opened to toast Chris and opened a second between trips to the oven to check the turkey’s progress, then a third. They paused the game long enough to eat dinner on the beautifully appointed table, the traditional china and silver, the golden turkey on the white platter. After they’d tasted each of the pies—a pumpkin and a pecan—they cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher before playing three games of Candyland so Daisy could take part in the festivities. But once Daisy had been tucked into bed, the unfinished game of cutthroat Monopoly was resumed.

Shortly before eleven, after having cornered the market on the three orange properties and all four railroads, Grace was declared winner and real estate mogul.

“Wow. That was an impressive win,” Natalie conceded. “Congratulations, but I don’t remember you being so serious about Monopoly.”

“You played that game like your life depended on it,” Maggie said as she watched Grace count her winnings.

“Zach and I used to play a lot,” Grace told them as she held up her play money gleefully. “He was really into it in a big way. There are sites online where you can go to learn strategy and how to maximize your winnings.”

“Oh, really?” Natalie sat back against the cushioned banquette. “Do tell.”

“Yeah, they’re really informative. I had to make him stop looking stuff up because then he’d use that information to cheat when we played.”

“Did you just use what he learned to cheat just now?” Natalie narrowed her eyes.

“Maybe.” Grace grinned.

Natalie tossed her game piece—the Scottie dog—onto the board. “Cheater.”

“You’re just pissed because you don’t know the inside dirt,” Grace told her.

“The least you can do is share what you know, now that the game is over,” Emma said.

Grace began sorting the money in piles to return to the box. “Statistically, the most frequently landed-on spot is Illinois Avenue. So if you can put a house or two there—or better still, a hotel—you’ll be collecting a lot of rent. Also, orange is good. Always buy the orange places—Tennessee and New York Avenues and St. James Place.”

“Someone actually sat down and figured out the probability of landing on which spaces?” Emma asked.

Grace nodded. “And as we’ve just seen, the odds were in my favor.”

“Okay, that’s it for me tonight.” Liddy stood and stretched. “Early morning tomorrow. Fun game, ladies—cheating aside. And Maggie, thanks so much for making such a delicious dinner.”

“Not quite up to Art’s standards, but we all survived another of my attempts to re-create the perfection of my late husband’s turkey.” Maggie had risen when Liddy had.

“Mom, stop. It was fine,” Natalie told her.

“Sweetheart, Thanksgiving dinner is supposed to be more than just ‘fine.’ But it’s okay. I’m a work in progress where holiday meals are concerned.”

“Dad set impossibly high standards,” Grace reminded her. “That said, don’t put yourself down. You did a great job.”

“Thanks, Gracie.”

“Listen to your daughters.” Emma kissed first Maggie, then each of the girls good night. “This was the best Thanksgiving I’ve had in . . . oh, years. Chris usually is somewhere else, so I’m at the mercy of any kindhearted soul who’ll have me.”

“And for the last few years, I’ve done potluck with my book club,” Liddy said.

“You both have a standing invitation at my house,” Maggie assured them. It hadn’t been the kind of holiday the Flynns used to have, but it had been fun. More fun than the last two had been. Change is good, she reminded herself. Maybe her life could use a little more of it.

“Excellent. I was hoping you’d say that.” Liddy gave Maggie a hug before she headed for the stairs. “I’m over that whole potluck thing. Maureen Harper’s green bean casserole and Deb Burke’s runny pumpkin pie.” She turned to Emma. “I’m ready to turn in. How ’bout you?”

Emma nodded. “The car is supposed to pick us up early tomorrow.”

“You two go on up. I’m just going to close up down here, and then I’ll be going to bed, too.”

“Mom, we’ll finish cleaning up in the kitchen and straightening the dining room,” Natalie said as Liddy and Emma went upstairs. “You have a big day tomorrow.”