An Invincible Summer (Wyndham Beach #1)(9)
“I’d have thought he’d have left the firm to Grace.”
“Eventually, he would have. But at the time decisions had to be made, Art didn’t feel comfortable putting Grace in such a position of power when her husband was working there, too.” Maggie grimaced. “Of course, in retrospect, it was the right thing to do. Imagine if Gracie had the controlling interest in the firm, given the situation with Zach. If they’d stayed married even for a time, would he be entitled to half of the firm when they divorced? I don’t know. I’m just glad that was one conversation we didn’t have to have.”
“And you’re not tempted to exercise a little control yourself where Zach is concerned?”
“Of course I am. Zach was a huge part of our lives from the time he and Grace were in law school. He said he’d waited until after Art died to tell her he wanted a divorce because he didn’t want to add to everyone’s distress, but frankly, I think he waited because he couldn’t look Art in the eye.” Maggie shook her head, remembering how happy Art had been with his daughter’s choice of husband, how he and Zach had gone to baseball and football games together. Just weeks before Art got sick, he and his son-in-law had gone deep-sea fishing, a first time for both of them, and they’d made plans to go again at the end of the summer. “He wasn’t man enough to face Art with the truth. I also think he was hoping that, on his deathbed, Art would give him half the firm. Thank God he didn’t.”
“He isn’t worthy of Grace,” Liddy pronounced as if closing the door on that topic, then backed out of the driveway carefully, pausing at the curb to make sure nothing was coming either way. “So where to first? The beach? The harbor? Or we could check out a few of the new shops in town.”
“I’m up for a little shopping. I stopped at the beach yesterday when I first arrived. I was surprised to see a lifeguard station there.”
“Yes, there’s a lifeguard from Memorial Day straight through till Labor Day, seven days a week, from nine in the morning till six at night. A dumb waste of taxpayers’ money if you ask me. That beach has the worst sand. No one wants to sit on it. Everyone goes to the Island Road beach,” Liddy all but harrumphed. “The Cottage Street beach has always been set aside for fishing and digging quahogs, and underage drinking. Everyone knows that.”
“Then why . . . ?”
“Because three years ago, the stepnephew of our beloved mayor almost drowned when he stupidly jumped off the jetty into the water. Broke both legs when he hit the rocks. So now we have to pay to have someone sit up on that stand yelling ‘Get off the rocks!’ and watching the geezers fly-fish from the shore. The underage drinking doesn’t usually start until closer to midnight, so the police get to deal with them.”
Liddy made a turn into the municipal parking lot behind the Wyndham Beach General Store and cut the engine, and that quickly Maggie was out of the car, her head back and her eyes closed.
“I love how you can smell the water from anyplace in town,” she said, relishing the moment. “The harbor here and the cove up by my family’s old home, the bay from Island Road. It always smells like sunshine and the sea and salt to me. I’ve never stopped missing it.”
“Then you should move back. There’s lots more salt air where that came from. And great houses come up for sale all the time.” Before Maggie could respond, Liddy took her arm and steered her in the direction of a brick path that ran behind several shops. “This is all new since the last time you were here. We call it ‘the Stroll.’ This little meandering path leads from one shop to another. Wait till you step inside Glinda’s Corner. Cutest kids’ clothes ever. You’re going to want to buy everything for that sweet little Daisy.”
As Liddy’d predicted, Maggie found several items for Daisy that would be tucked away until December. At Nibbles ’n’ Such, she purchased some baked-that-morning cheese straws, a jar of locally sourced honey, and a fat round jar of fig jam made by the sister of the shop owner, all to share with Maggie’s hostess. At Dazzle Me, Maggie bought a pair of malachite earrings for Natalie—green, to match her eyes—and huge gold citrine studs for Grace, with the hope that perhaps some sunshine in her ears might add a little sunshine to her life. At the Potter’s Wheel, she found gorgeous vases for her daughters and a lovely bowl for Art’s assistant, Lois, whom Maggie continued to remember on birthdays and holidays because of her devotion to Art and her kindness through the dark days of his illness.
“Did I lie?” Liddy demanded as they walked back to the car, laden with their purchases.
“You totally nailed it. I’m delighted with everything I picked up. You know, my mom always started her Christmas shopping immediately after Labor Day.”
Liddy opened the back of her SUV and Maggie loaded her packages inside.
“Where to now?” Maggie asked as she got into the passenger seat.
“I thought maybe we’d visit Emma at the art center.”
“I’d like that. I know Emma’s been working her butt off to get it off the ground.”
“She’s done an incredible job. Wait till you see. You’ll be so impressed.” Liddy turned the key in the ignition, backed out onto High Street, and stopped at the intersection with Front just as a police cruiser rolled up to the opposing stop sign. The driver’s window was down as the occupant exchanged words with a pedestrian who’d just come out of the post office. The brief conversation appeared to have been cordial, and a moment later the cruiser drove off in the direction of the harbor.