The Charm Bracelet(49)

“Like a rock,” Arden replied, blowing on the steaming mug before taking a generous sip. “A rock that had three beers and danced with a complete stranger.”

Arden’s sweet, unguarded admission surprised Lolly and immediately sent her into a fit of giggles, which caused her arm to twitch and scatter the chocolate chips she was sprinkling into the pancake batter across the kitchen floor.

“Oh, my dear! I’m so proud of you. It feels good to have friends and a little fun again, doesn’t it?”

Arden took another sip of coffee and tilted her head, contemplating her mother’s words. “It does.”

Arden hesitated. “And I told Lauren about Clem yesterday, too.”

The new admission surprised Lolly again, causing her to smile brightly. “How did Lauren react?”

“She said she’d never felt closer to me,” Arden said, smiling. “I’m beginning to think she never thought I was human.” Arden’s words were tinged with the regret she felt for waiting so long to open up to her daughter.

Lolly turned to look at her daughter. “Every generation can benefit by learning from the one before,” she said, nodding toward Arden’s sweatshirt. “And I’m sorry to say you can seem closed-off at times, my dear. That job of yours takes up so much of your time and attention.”

Lolly lifted the chocolate chip–coated spatula from the batter and offered it to Arden to lick, just as she had always done when Arden was a little girl. Licking the spoon always made Arden feel better instantly.

Arden smiled at her mother’s offer, quickly grabbed the spatula, and walked to the kitchen sink. As she licked the spatula, she looked out at Lost Land coming awake. The waters were calm, the sun’s early morning light turning the lake alternating colors of brilliant blue and sea glass green. White swans floated on the surface, craning their necks as they swam, while sparrows dove like The Blue Angels around the lake.

Arden thought of her father and grandfather, and closed her eyes. When she opened them, her eyes were greeted by the warped wooden dock jutting into the lake.

So many memories—good, bad, happy, sad—on that little dock. It had, literally, been the jumping off place for my love of books, my love of writing.

Her mother’s charm bracelet jangled as she flipped the pancakes.

This is where my mother’s love of charms began, Arden thought.

“I’ve forgotten how beautiful it is here,” Arden sighed. “I’ve … well … I’ve just forgotten.”

Lolly smiled at her daughter, retrieving her own mug of coffee and refilling it.

“I’m glad you’re remembering as I’m starting to forget,” Lolly said. She hesitated but continued quietly, “You know, names slip me sometimes.”

Arden wrapped her arm around her mother’s waist. “I know, Mom.” She pulled her close. “I’ll always remember. I promise you. And I’ll always help you remember, too. Didn’t you say that we have to live in the moment? That’s all any of us can do, right?”

Lolly nodded.

“Well, then, I’ll finish the pancakes, if you make more coffee,” Arden said. “It won’t be pretty if Lauren wakes up without caffeine.”

Lolly smiled and hugged her daughter.

“Let me get a broom and dust pan first,” she said, looking down at the errant chocolate chips still scattered across the wood floor. “It won’t be pretty if she walks in without caffeine and thinks ants have invaded the cabin.”

The two laughed, and then mother and daughter finished making breakfast together.





Twenty-five




“I’m so glad you two decided to join me,” Lolly said, as the wind tossed tendrils of her blond beehive about her head wildly.

The Woodie’s windows were down, the wind whipping through the car as Lauren drove. “It’s going to be a madhouse in town, what with this perfect weather. I thought I’d go for Brigitte Bardot today,” Lolly laughed from the passenger seat, fussing with her wig.

“Who?” Lauren asked.

“Oh, that’s right,” Lolly said, looking at her granddaughter. “Wrong generation … by about four decades. I thought I’d look—what do you kids say today—very ‘retro.’”

Lauren laughed, nodding her appreciation. “YOLO, right, Grandma?”

“YOLO!” Lolly repeated, sticking her face out the window.

Memorial Day weather in Michigan was as unpredictable as a kitten. It could be sunny and seventies, or raw and rainy. Scoops had even experienced a handful of Memorial weekends where the angry skies spit snow, the coast refusing to let go of winter.

But today was perfection. And having her family here for the first time in ages made it even better for Lolly.

She pulled down the ancient visor in the Woodie and looked into the wavy mirror, more to steal a glance at Arden, reading emails in the backseat.

Lolly’s body suddenly ricocheted into the door, and Arden’s cell flew all the way from the backseat to the front seat.

“LAUREN!”

Lauren screamed and regained control of the Woodie, which had briefly gone off the side of the narrow two-lane road and skidded on gravel.

“Sorry,” she said, guiltily flipping up her own visor. “I thought I’d check my hair, too, since Grandma was. This steering wheel has a lot of play in it.”