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

yoga classes last summer, and she rolled it out next to Natalie’s and managed to keep up for all of ten minutes before her wandering eye settled on a stuffed llama she’d left on the sofa, and she decided he should be doing yoga instead of her. Natalie continued her own routine while Daisy chatted happily nearby with her silent friend.

Once they’d gotten through dinner, bath, and story time, Natalie tucked in her sleepy girl and tiptoed down the stairs. It had been an emotional day, and while thirty minutes of yoga had helped, she was still a little hyped from spending the day with Grace. She cleaned the kitchen before turning on her laptop and reading first her emails, then, belatedly, her horoscope for the day.

“The trials of the morning will extend through the next several days, all of which will have their own challenges.”

“Swell,” she muttered. “Like I couldn’t have figured that out on my own.”

“There will be a break in the clouds, but you might not like what you see at first. Trust the universe to bring you what you need and keep faith that decisions made by others will eventually lead you to your destiny.”

She rolled her eyes and clicked on the link to her genealogy website. The first thing she noticed was the blinking icon that signaled a new message.

Hi, Natalie—

Joe Miller here again. Hope you’re well. Not to belabor a point, but I did want you to know I had another DNA test run and I’m still getting the same feedback. So unless something is really screwy somewhere, I have to believe we are definitely half siblings. I’m hoping this doesn’t upset you in any way, and I will certainly understand if you don’t care to open what could be one enormous and potentially ugly can of worms on your end, but as I mentioned in my last email, I was adopted at birth, so it’s been a long twisty road for me to find any birth relatives. I will respect whatever decision you make. But if you want to explore this further, you can reach me at this e-address or call me at the number below if you ever want to talk (I wish!), but I won’t contact you again.

If I don’t hear from you, I wish you a beautiful happy life.

Joe

Without understanding why, Natalie burst into tears. If she’d ever had a brother, Joe Miller sounded exactly like the sort of guy she’d have wanted. She still wasn’t convinced, but she knew there was a conversation she was going to have to have with her mother. If her father had had an affair, or, more likely to Natalie’s mind, a child born of a relationship before he’d married her mother, Maggie should probably know. Under other circumstances, she’d be on the phone with Grace to figure out what to do. Tell Maggie? Delete the email and pretend she’d never gotten it? How would Maggie react if she discovered her husband had had a son she hadn’t known about? In light of Grace’s current drama, there was no way Natalie could discuss Joe Miller’s messages with her sister or her mother just yet. Their family had enough to deal with right now, but it was a conversation that would have to be had when Grace’s dust settled.

She still hadn’t decided whether to respond to the email, but as she locked the front door and made her way upstairs to bed, the thought that Joe Miller sounded like someone she’d like to know followed her every step of the way.

Chapter Twelve

MAGGIE

Maggie had flown into Flynn Law like an avenging angel, walking past the receptionist and going directly to George’s door, which she entered without her customary courtesy knocking and which she slammed behind her. But once she saw George—kindly, good-natured, soft-spoken George, Art’s best friend since law school—she lost a bit of her edge.

“George, we need to talk.”

“Good morning, Maggie. Somehow I knew I’d be seeing you today.” George greeted her with a warm hug and a resigned smile.

“So you know . . .” Maggie pulled a visitor’s chair closer to his desk while he seated himself in the one next to her.

“I know what I’ve heard, and what I’ve read. Now you tell me what the truth is, and we’ll discuss what we’ll do about it,” he said gently.

Over the next twenty minutes, Maggie shared everything Grace had told her.

George leaned his elbow on the desk and covered his face with his right hand. “I had no idea . . . oh, dear God, Maggie. I didn’t know all this was going on.” His face had drained of color. “I should have known. Should have been more diligent. I promised Art I’d watch out for her, and I failed him.”

“It isn’t your . . . wait, what do you mean, you promised Art . . . ?”

“Toward the end, Art confided he’d been picking up strange vibes from Zach. He asked me if I’d noticed anything different at the office, and I told him truthfully I had not. Though, in retrospect, I probably wasn’t the one to ask. You know I’ve never been one to socialize in the office or pay attention to gossip. I’m always the last person to know what’s going on in anyone’s personal life.” He added sadly, “Obviously.”

“Still the first one in and the last one out?”

George nodded. “Pretty much. This craziness, this thing with the paralegal—I honestly didn’t know.” The poor man looked so distressed Maggie felt compelled to lean over and pat him on the arm to comfort him. “I just didn’t notice, Maggie. I am so sorry. I let you all down.”

“Don’t be silly.” She gave his arm one last pat, then stood. “It isn’t your fault. The blame belongs on Zach and Amber. There are more issues at stake right now and steps to be taken to mitigate each one. First: this whole mess with Grace being revealed as the person behind this blog. I asked Timothy if he could