An Invincible Summer (Wyndham Beach), Mariah Stewart [best classic novels TXT] 📗

hottest guys on the planet.” Grace opened the closet and took out her coat, which she slid over her arms. She reached back for Natalie’s and Daisy’s jackets, then tossed them to Natalie.

“You didn’t think he was hot back then. You just said you thought he was a PITA.” Natalie knelt to help Daisy into her jacket.

“You sure didn’t.” Grace smirked.

“I don’t remember either of you being particularly enamored of Chris when you were younger.” Maggie opened the front door and stood off to one side.

“Nat was.” Grace stood on the front step and grinned at her sister. “Deny it now, but there was a time . . .”

Natalie laughed. “We were friends. We were always just friends.”

“If you say so,” Grace whispered.

“Mom, is everything all right? Are you all right?” Natalie asked softly as she buttoned her jacket.

“Why, do I look ill? Am I pale?” She stepped in front of the hall mirror and examined her reflection. “Everything’s fine. Why would you ask me that?”

“You look great. You just seem . . . I don’t know, maybe just a bit distracted?” Natalie appeared to struggle to put her finger on what seemed off about her mother. “And you’ve been neglecting your plants.”

Maggie frowned, her hands now on her hips. “What are you talking about? I certainly have not been neglecting anything.”

“Mom, I pulled dead leaves off several plants in the sunroom. I don’t remember ever in my entire life seeing a dead leaf on anything green in this house.”

“I haven’t noticed any dead leaves,” Maggie protested.

“That’s my point. You’ve always been so meticulous about your plants. It just made me wonder if there was something on your mind, that’s all.” Chastised, Natalie softened. “It wasn’t an accusation. I asked because it isn’t like you not to notice. You haven’t been the same since you came back from Wyndham Beach.”

Maggie waved a hand as if to dismiss the conversation. She was pretty sure she knew why she hadn’t been the same since the reunion, but she wasn’t about to get into that with her kids. It was something she’d have to work her way through, something that had nothing to do with her daughters. Something she’d been avoiding thinking about. “I guess maybe I’m just distracted by the holidays being so close and your father not being with us.”

“Oh. Well, that makes sense.” Natalie glanced at Grace, who’d watched the exchange but hadn’t commented. “We’ll all be missing Daddy even more at Thanksgiving. Remember how he loved to put the turkey on that big white platter—”

“The one with the big turkey on it.” Grace nodded.

“—and bring it into the dining room and make this big show of carving it.” Natalie smiled at the memory.

“Dad really went all out for every holiday,” Grace reminisced. “He loved seeing the dining room all dressed up for Thanksgiving. That plum tablecloth and the dark gold napkins and the dishes with the cornucopia in the middle. The table was always so gorgeous.”

“Mom always made these fabulous centerpieces,” Natalie added.

“And she always got those little pumpkins and stood up little candles in them and put them at every place,” Grace said.

“Mom is right here, and she can hear you,” Maggie said lightly, hoping to lift the nostalgic mood that was threatening to turn somber. “And yes, your dad loved to go all out for the holidays, and yes, before you ask, I still have the plum-colored tablecloth, and I can buy little pumpkins at the farmers’ market.”

“Excellent.” Grace made a thumbs-up.

“I can’t wait. Thanks again for dinner.”

Natalie turned to Daisy. “Dais, what do you say to Nana?”

“Thank you for my book.” Daisy reached up for a hug and planted a big kiss on Maggie’s cheek.

Maggie’s heart melted. “You’re most welcome. Come back and see me again.”

Daisy looked up at her, nodded, and said, “I will.”

Natalie kissed her mom and followed her sister outside.

Maggie stood on the front step and watched her girls walk down the path to the driveway while she deadheaded the colorful mums she’d bought at a local farm to bring some autumnal touches to her porch, observing that the mums, too, appeared sadly neglected. The jack-o’-lanterns she’d carved for Halloween had collapsed upon themselves and should have been put into the trash days ago. Maggie made a mental note to bag them up and take them to the curb before the next trash day.

She folded her arms across her chest and watched Grace lean on the side of Natalie’s car while Daisy was strapped into her car seat. Her daughters spoke for another minute before hugging, Natalie getting into her car and Grace walking to the end of the driveway to hers. One last wave and Maggie stepped back inside the house and proceeded to straighten the kitchen, returning Daisy’s discarded toys to the basket she kept in the family room and setting the gas fireplace to a low flame as she finished picking up the last pieces of their visit. A photo out of place here, a magazine tossed carelessly onto the coffee table there. She settled into a chair near the fireplace, where she’d left the book she was supposed to read for her book club, and turned on a nearby lamp. She read almost a dozen pages before admitting neither the story nor the characters were appealing to her. She closed the book and stared into the fire, then grabbed her phone and tapped Emma’s number.

“What are we supposed to wear to Chris’s show?” she asked when Emma picked up. “My girls were here for dinner tonight, and I think they’re concerned that I’m going to dress like a nineteen-year-old. Or worse, a fifty-eight-year-old. What are three women who are closing in on sixty supposed to wear to a rock concert?”

“We wear T-shirts with my son’s picture on them, which Chris already sent, and your favorite jeans,” Emma told her.

They discussed the travel arrangements Chris had made for them, and then, travel and wardrobe issues settled, they said good night. Maggie closed up the