The Summer Getaway: A Novel(52)

“We’ll have to see, won’t we? How can you invite only part of the family?” Judy turned to Harlow. “I have three sisters, and Hank’s from a big family, too. We’re the only ones in Florida, but between the Iowa branch and the Texas folks, Kip has about twenty cousins.”

Harlow stared at Kip. “Twenty? You never, ah, mentioned that.”

“I know it’s a lot. Most of them are older than me, so they’re married, with kids.”

Harlow didn’t want to think about that. “We haven’t firmed up the guest list,” she murmured, “but we were trying to keep it under two hundred.”

“Now that you’re not having your wedding at that ridiculous country club, you can have it in a park,” Judy said cheerfully. “Your mom and I could cook a simple menu, so it wouldn’t cost much. That way, you can invite everyone.”

Harlow did her best to keep from shrieking. “I’m not sure.”

“The park makes sense,” Hank told her. “Why wouldn’t you want to do that? Isn’t it fancy enough?”

Judy turned on her husband. “Hank, don’t.”

“You told me about that country club. Fifty thousand for a deposit? Come on, that’s highway robbery.” Hank picked up his beer. “I say have it at the park and be done with it. We’re talking about one day. What does it really matter where you get married?”

Harlow tried to keep breathing. “It matters to me.”

Kip put his hand on hers and squeezed her fingers. “You two need to back off. Harlow and I will make the decisions about the wedding. We’ll let you know when we’ve picked a location and what the guest list is.”

“The less you pay for the where, the more you have for the who,” his father grumbled.

Judy shot him a warning look.

“I’m shutting up,” he told her. “It’s her parents’ money. If they want to waste it, that’s their decision. I know, I know. You’ve told me enough times.”

OMG! Kip’s parents talked about how her parents spent their money? Harlow stared at her food, not sure what to say.

Judy freshened everyone’s iced tea. “Let’s talk about something else. Kip, you’ll never guess who called the other day. Tracey, and she wanted your number. I didn’t give it to her.”

Kip’s face drained of color.

“Who’s Tracey?” Harlow asked.

Hank frowned. “Kip’s ex-wife. Who else would she be?”



* * *



“I know nothing about grandfather clocks,” Robyn admitted with a laugh as she removed the clean towel from the top of the bowl and checked the dough.

Sure enough, it had risen. She scooped it onto the floured countertop and used a sharp knife to divide it into twenty-four pieces.

“The one on the second floor might be from the early 1800s. I think it’s an English marquetry longcase.” She glanced at her aunt. “It belongs in a museum, Lillian.”

Her aunt smiled from her comfortable chair as she patted the tuxedo cat dozing on her lap.

“Then you should get on that, my dear.”

“Call up a museum and offer it to them?”

“I’m sure there’s a procedure,” Lillian teased. “Leaving it on the doorstep like an abandoned puppy won’t do.”

“Plus it’s really big.”

Robyn stretched the first piece of dough into a square, folded the corners under and shaped it into a ball.

“It’s good to see you back in the kitchen,” Lillian said. “Making bread.”

“You’re the one who taught me how. Every time I work with dough, I think of you.”

She remembered being in this kitchen back when she’d been so small, she’d had to stand on a chair to see what her aunt was doing. Lillian had taught her how to make cookies and brownies, crunchy French loaves and delicious cakes. She’d passed on that knowledge to both her kids, although Austin had been a lot less interested than Harlow.

Thinking of her daughter made her grateful she’d reached out. They’d only exchanged brief “hi, how are you” type comments, but it was a start. Fighting less with her daughter was on Robyn’s to-do list. She just had to figure out how to make that happen.

“I remember the first time you brought Cord here,” Lillian mused. “He was determined to help you in the kitchen.”

Robyn chuckled. “He kneaded with great enthusiasm.”

“He wanted to please you. That boy was crazy about you.”

“We were young and in love,” Robyn said lightly, knowing that hadn’t been enough to sustain them.

“You have regrets,” Lillian said kindly.

“Sure. About a lot of things. Sometimes I wonder if I’m more to blame than him. Not for the cheating—that’s on him, but for giving in rather than standing up to him.”

“You didn’t want to rip apart your family. You thought, after surviving cancer, Harlow needed both her parents. Austin, too.”

“You make me sound reasonable.”

“You were.”

“You’re right that I forgave him because of Harlow and Austin. I felt like they’d already been through so much. I didn’t think they’d survive a divorce. But what if that’s not true? What if I was really protecting myself?”