An Invincible Summer (Wyndham Beach #1)(66)
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.
Once the garden planning began, Grace took herself out to the front steps. She thought about the pretty pink polish she’d picked up at the drugstore the day before. Now would be a good time to tend to those fingernails that had barely survived all the work she’d done over the past few weeks. She went inside and grabbed the drugstore bag off the kitchen counter and went back out. She’d barely gotten three nails buffed and polished when she heard someone coming across the lawn.
She looked up to see a blond guy wearing cargo shorts, a Grateful Dead T-shirt, flip-flops, aviator glasses, and a goofy grin.
“Chris?” She narrowed her eyes, squinting into the afternoon sun. “Chris Dean?”
“Gracie Flynn!” He jogged the last fifty feet. “Honest to God, I thought I was hallucinating for a minute. You look just like your mom used to look, back in the day. Well, your mom with dark hair.”
“Don’t you know better than to tell a woman she looks just like her mother?” Grace screwed the cap back on the polish and put the bottle on the step. “I’d think a sophisticated world traveler such as yourself would know that.”
“You have me confused with that guy who calls himself DEAN. Besides, your mom was always beautiful. Like mother, like daughter.” He picked her up in a bear hug. “How are you, Gracie?”
“I’m good. You?” She leaned back to look at him, and he kissed her on the forehead, a loud smacking kiss, before setting her down.
“I’m okay. Hanging in there.”
Grace laughed. “Please. Don’t make me admit I know you’re an international superstar.”
“Not when I’m in Wyndham Beach.” He sat on the top step and pulled her down to sit next to him. “Here, I’m Emma’s kid who grew up two streets over and spent many summer hours pulling you and your sister around in an old red wagon.” He paused. “Is she here? Nat?”
Grace shook her head.
“I was hoping she’d be around. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her. How’s she doing? Your mom showed me pictures of her little girl. She’s a cutie.”