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and my granddaughter. Grandchildren,” she corrected herself. “And I want to help Liddy get her bookstore spruced up. I’m lucky Art left me well off. He had a lot of life insurance, and . . . oh, I sold his law firm.”

She shared the story of Grace’s cheating husband that led her to start TheLast2No and to Grace’s eventual outing as the spurned wife who took to the internet and invited other women similarly situated to join her and bash their unfaithful husbands.

“That was actually a pretty damned clever thing for her to do. Innovative. It’s a shame she had to abandon it,” Brett said. “I can see where it could be helpful to have a judgment-free place to express your anger. It would sure go a long way to cutting down the number of domestic calls we get if people felt they had a safe place to vent.”

“That’s pretty much what Natalie said. Unfortunately, few in Philadelphia saw it that way. Grace was ridiculed and practically run out of the city.”

“And that’s why you decided to sell the law firm and move back to Wyndham Beach?”

“One of the reasons,” she conceded.

“Going to tell me what the others were?”

She smiled at him over the rim of her wineglass. “Not tonight.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

By the June solstice, summer was already well established in Wyndham Beach. Maggie spent two weeks busily preparing for the party on the Fourth. She took stock of the patio furniture and found seating was sorely lacking. She drove to the hardware store, because she’d seen their ad for outside chairs in the local paper.

White-haired Carl Lattimore was behind the counter chatting with a customer when Maggie walked in. He turned his attention to her when he was free.

“Hi. Can I help you find something?” he asked her.

“I saw your ad for the folding chairs, and I wanted to see what you have in stock,” she told him.

“Right over here’s what we have left.” He pointed to a wall display. “If there’s something in particular you’re looking for, I can maybe special order it. Can’t guarantee the sale price, though, but I can see what I can do.”

“I like these turquoise ones. Do you have maybe half a dozen of these?” She was drawn to the color, which looked tropical to Maggie. With maybe some coral table accents, the backyard could look almost tropical on the Fourth. Not exactly red, white, and blue, but she liked the idea.

“I don’t think so, but I can check. I know I have more of the navy, though, Miss . . .”

“It’s Maggie. Maggie Flynn.”

“Oh. I heard about you,” he said.

Uh-oh. “You did?” She hated to ask but felt obligated to.

“Sure. You’re Liddy’s friend. She told me you were helping her out at the bookshop. Going to fix up the backyard for her, right?” Before she could respond, he went on. “I know it’s in a sorry state, but between running this place, and my wife being sick, and my dad’s health, well, you know how it goes.”

“I do totally understand. I had to let some things go when my husband was ill.” Like myself. “So no apologies necessary. I’m happy to be able to help Liddy any way I can. We’ve been friends forever.”

“Yeah, I heard you were from here. Ellen Lloyd’s girl, right? I knew Ellen for years. Lovely woman.”

“She was. Thank you.”

“And you bought Ellen’s place, I heard. Must be nice to be back in your family home. Grew up in that house, did you?”

“I did. And so did my mother. And it’s wonderful to be back.”

“We’re glad to have you, Maggie. Now let me see if I can locate some chairs for you . . .”

Carl disappeared through a doorway.

Maggie wandered through the store while she waited for Carl. She turned a corner and bumped into a woman she recognized but couldn’t remember her name.

“Maggie?” The woman slipped off her sunglasses. She must have realized Maggie was drawing a blank, because she introduced herself. “I’m Marian Coster. Emma’s assistant at the art center.”

“Nice to meet you.” Emma had mentioned she had a part-time assistant. Maggie shook the woman’s hand.

“I saw you at the opening of Jessie Bryant’s show. I’ve been working with Emma since she opened the center, but I’m taking the next few weeks off. My daughter just took over the florist shop on Locust Lane—Jack Schuster retired, you know—and she’s in over her head, so I told her I’d give her a hand. Emma’s very understanding, and she offered to let me come back part-time again if I want. After we get things straightened out at the shop.”

“Well, I wish your daughter all the success. The town definitely needs a florist. I’ll stop over one day.”

“We’ll be having a grand opening right before the Fourth. Please come. Joanna—my daughter—is hoping to have some centerpieces ready for the holiday.”

“I’ll definitely be there.”

“Oh, there you are, Maggie.” Carl appeared around the corner. “Be with you in a minute, Marian.”

“No rush. I’ll just wander a bit.” Marian turned to Maggie. “I’ll make sure you know when the shop opens.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” Maggie smiled, then looked over the chairs Carl carried.

“No more of the turquoise. I can order those, but they won’t be here for four weeks, I’m afraid. I have lots of the navy, though. And the red’s been popular this year as well.”

Maggie looked over the available color selections and went with the red, which had that sort of faded Nantucket vibe she liked, so in her mind, the color scheme was once again red, white, and blue. Carl offered to have one of his guys deliver the chairs, and she readily agreed.

Before she left, she found a badminton set and a firepit, and asked Carl to have those delivered as well, along with some tiki torches and two big red-and-white-striped planters she could fill with flowers for the front porch. At checkout, she noticed a bin of blue-and-white-striped crepe paper streamers, so she bought some of those to wrap

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