“That would be a lie. You’re not going to tell people that . . .”
“Of course not. I won’t have to. They’ll come up with that on their own. There’ll always be people who will want to believe the worst, whether it’s true or not. It’s a good lesson to learn, Zach. One worth remembering.”
She started toward the door, then snapped her fingers. “Oh—and about that ten-year thing. You and Grace never made it to your tenth anniversary. Which would have been in seventeen days.”
“So?”
“So while Art was beginning to get bad vibes about you, he still wasn’t sure if he was really picking up on something, or if the meds he was on were messing with his head. So he had a clause added to his will to the effect that if you and Grace were still married on your tenth anniversary, the firm would belong to you both. Equally.” She opened the door and, without turning around, whispered, “Looks like you blew it.”
She closed the door behind her, proud of herself for not losing her temper or saying some of the really ugly things she’d wanted to say. It had taken every bit of her willpower not to. But the look on Zach’s face just before she closed the door had been priceless. The satisfaction she felt would go a long way toward making up for all the things she’d wanted to throw at him but didn’t. He was a lying, cheating snake, and he deserved to fall flat on his face.
Then again, Maggie wasn’t above a little lie of her own now and then. Zach would never know she’d made up that part about Art changing his will and the ten-year thing. She didn’t lie often, but sometimes you just had to make sure your opponent understood that you’d gotten in the last punch.
“I can’t believe you left him standing,” Natalie said when Maggie called her from the train. “Didn’t you want to kill him?”
“I did, almost as much as I wanted to slap Amber’s smirking face. But we both know that’s not my style. I thought I’d get the point across better if I just laid it all out there calmly. Doesn’t mean I liked doing it that way, but I felt the room needed an adult. Besides, I don’t think I would have been able to rein myself back in once I’d lost it. And I must say, my instincts were right. I was very effective.”
“Sort of like when Grace and I were little. When you stopped yelling and got really quiet, we knew we were in trouble.”
“Something like that.”
“Calling the FBI was brilliant. Bless George.”
“Hacking into someone else’s computer is a federal offense. I honestly don’t know how it’s going to play out. They may look at it and think it isn’t worth prosecuting because there was no money involved.”
“Of course there’s money involved. Grace lost her standing in the community and doesn’t feel she can be taken seriously ever again. She’s leaving her job over this. That has to be worth something.”
“I agree, but I don’t know how such things work on that level. I’ve never dealt with the FBI before. But the look on her face when the two agents showed up to talk to her was . . .” Maggie paused, then smiled. “It was a thing of beauty.”
Later, after Maggie awoke from her much-needed nap, she repeated the story for Grace.
“You think they’ll put her in prison for such a small offense?” Grace asked.
Maggie shrugged. “I don’t know. They could. I have no idea. I called Larry Gleason to act as your lawyer, by the way. There’s no one else Dad would have wanted to represent the firm and you. Of course, if you’d rather have someone else, you’re free to call him or her.”
“No, that’s fine. Larry would have been my first choice, so thank you for sparing me from making that call.” Grace smiled for the first time since she’d arrived at Maggie’s the day before. “I hope she goes to prison. I hope they put her away for a very long time. Him too.” Her smile broadened. “I can’t believe George actually called the FBI. He’s the best. And you’re my hero. On the one hand, I wish I’d been the one to confront her. But on the other . . . you know people would just see the wife who was dumped being a shrew. Like the blog wasn’t enough. Dad would have hated this, but he’d really have hated it if we’d embarrassed the firm even more than it has been.”
“That was one of the things that kept me from hurling heavy objects at the two of them. All we needed this week would have been for me to be arrested for assault. Not that it might not have been worth it, but I didn’t think it would be a good look for the Flynns. Now get into the shower, clean up, and get dressed. I picked up takeout for dinner from your dad’s favorite Italian place in town, and I’m starving.”
Later, after dinner had been eaten and the dishes stacked in the dishwasher, Grace said, “Mom, what do you think Dad would have done?”
“I think Dad would have shot them both.”
“No, seriously. What do you think he would have done?”
Maggie chose her words carefully. “I don’t believe we’d be having this conversation if your father was still alive.”
“Because Zach wouldn’t have left me. We’d still be married.”
“Possibly.”
“But he still wouldn’t have been in love with me.” Grace looked overwhelmingly sad. “Our marriage still would have been a sham, and I’d still have been the last to know.”
It took Maggie several days to work everything out in her head, but once she made up her mind, the path ahead seemed very clear. The decision hadn’t been easy, but all things considered, it was the best option for everyone: she needed to sell the house in Bryn Mawr and move back to Wyndham Beach.
First consideration: it was crystal clear that Grace couldn’t return to her job even if she wanted to. Her reputation had been shattered, and her self-image had been destroyed. She needed to make a new start somewhere else, but she could see no clear path ahead.
Second consideration: since Maggie had toured her old family home, she’d been haunted by memories—faces, voices—and couldn’t stop thinking about how gratifying it would be to repaint every one of those white walls. She imagined where every piece of furniture she owned would go, where she’d hang every photo and every painting. She’d been drawn more and more back to Wyndham Beach, to her beloved friends, and to the chance to move her life forward.
Third: something was missing in her life, even if she wasn’t sure what, but she knew there was only one place to go if she wanted to find it.
Still—there were so many memories in the house she’d shared with Art and their children. There’d been great times, joyful times. Their first days, the rooms empty because they had so little to bring with them. The fun of finding just the right—everything. She remembered where they’d bought every piece of furniture, some banged-up rejects they’d taught themselves to refinish, some precious antiques they’d saved for. They’d brought their babies home from the hospital to that house (Art liked to tell the story of how Natalie’d been so eager to be born they’d barely made it to the hospital). There had been festivities of every kind under that roof: birthday, anniversary, Christmas, New Year’s Eve, graduation, Grace’s engagement party. They’d marked their girls’ growth on the pantry wall—even when the kitchen was renovated, they’d instructed the painters to paint around the chart. Maggie had walked the floors here, holding a sick baby while she prayed for a fever to go down, and, years later, when one or both girls had missed their curfew. Their daughters’ first dates had nervously rung their doorbell and stood in the foyer holding thin bouquets of limp flowers. They’d made their way down the wide staircase in prom gowns, and Grace had descended the wide staircase in a white wedding gown that had made her look like a princess.
And there’d been some not-so-joyful times as well. Maggie knew that, but Art’s sickness and his passing here had blotted out everything else. She still found it painful to walk into the guest room, where his hospital bed had been set up, his choice because, he’d said, he’d wanted to look out into the trees and watch the birds. Maggie suspected the real reason was that he’d wanted her to be able to sleep without waking every time he coug
hed or moved. He’d said he wanted to pass quietly, watching the sun rise over the rose bower in the backyard, with Maggie holding his hand, and that was exactly what he’d done.
Maggie had walked through the house, room to room, remembering all those little moments that made up a life, savoring some more than others. When she was certain her decision was final and there’d be no change of heart, she called the Realtor in Wyndham Beach. Then she called Natalie and asked her to get a babysitter for Saturday afternoon and come to the house. Grace was still there, having gone home once over the past week and found notes from several reporters from local TV stations taped to her front door.
“Mom”—Grace had called from her house—“would it be okay if I stayed with you for a bit longer? Just until I decide on my next move.”
“Of course. I love your company.” Maggie had expected the call, had hoped Grace wouldn’t go back to her house, where she’d probably lock herself in and try to disappear for a while. It wasn’t healthy, and it wasn’t necessary. Grace hadn’t done anything to deserve the negative attention she’d been getting. At least at Maggie’s there was someone to talk to and someone to make sure she ate something healthy at least once a day, because a mom never stopped being a mom.
Besides, Maggie had a few thoughts on what Grace’s next move might be. She was hoping to be able to steer her in that direction.
“So what’s going on, Mom?” Natalie had come into the kitchen around one on Saturday afternoon, an hour earlier than Maggie had expected her.
“Oh, you’re early. That’s fine. Grace is upstairs. Will you call her for me? I just have to put some coffee on.” Maggie suspected before the day was over—and depending on how her plan was received—wine would be more appropriate, but for now, coffee would serve just fine.
“Where do you want us?” Grace came into the kitchen, followed by her sister.
“I think in here is fine.” Maggie pointed to the alcove with the built-in banquette and the harvest table she and Art had found at a barn sale five years ago. It had languished in the basement until the kitchen renovation had been completed. With its plush bench cushions and view of the bird feeders hanging from shepherd’s hooks on the deck, the cozy nook was one of Maggie’s favorite places.
Maggie poured coffee, placed cream and sugar on the table along with a plate of brownies she’d made the night before.
“Must be serious.” Natalie selected a brownie and placed it on a napkin she retrieved from its holder. “Mom’s bringing out the chocolate.”
“It is serious. But before I tell you why I wanted us to get together, I just want to say how much I love you both.”
“We love you, too, Mom.” Grace helped herself to a brownie, immediately biting into it. “Yum.”
“Mom, you’re not sick, are you?” Natalie gripped the edge of the table anxiously.
“No, no. I just want you to remember that and know that whatever decisions I’ve made over the past week, I’ve made with the best interests of this family in mind.”
Grace and Natalie exchanged a questioning look.
“You already told us you’re selling the firm to George,” Natalie said. “And we’re fine with that.”
“What I didn’t tell you is that I’ve decided to sell the house as well.” There. She’d put it out there. Maggie studied the expressions on both daughters’ faces.
Natalie frowned. “What house?”
Before Maggie could respond, Grace said, “Wait. This house?” A look of disbelief crossed Grace’s face. “You want to sell this house? The house we grew up in?”
Maggie nodded. “Yes. This house.”
“Why?” Natalie looked stunned. “Why would you do that?”
“It’s because of me, isn’t it? Because of the big scandal about me, you had to sell Dad’s firm, and now you want to sell the house.” Grace was on the verge of tears.
“No. It’s not because of you. Well, only to the extent that I decided to sell the firm now, but it would have happened at some point. If you’d stayed there, eventually it would have gone to you. But you don’t know what else might have happened between now and then. And if I’ve learned anything over the past two years, it’s that nothing is forever. Sometimes change is good. Sometimes it’s necessary.” Maggie blew out a long breath. Her daughters were staring at her as if she had two heads. “For me, it’s necessary. I’ve always loved this house, from the moment your father brought me here to ‘just take a look.’ I brought both of you home from the hospital to this house. We lived and loved each other and argued and made up in this house.” Her voice dropped. “I said goodbye to your father in this house. This hasn’t been an easy decision for me. But I need to make a life for myself now. I need to be somewhere that’s mine. Somewhere I can start over and shake off everything that’s happened since your dad got sick.”
“I get that. Okay. So are you looking to downsize, Mom? I have to agree, it’s a big house for one person. We can help you find a place,” Grace offered. “There are a lot of great houses around.”
“That’s true. But I’ve already found my house, and it isn’t around here.”
“You already found a place? What do you mean, not around here?” Natalie appeared dismayed. “Aren’t you going to show us before you make a final decision?”
“The final decision has been made. I have the house under contract. And it’s a house you’re well familiar with.”
“I’m confused.” Grace shook her head as if to clear it.
“So am I.” Natalie grabbed on to her mug as if to anchor herself to the spot.
“When I visited Liddy in January, I saw that my mom’s old house—the house I grew up in, the house my great-great-grandfather built—was for sale. Liddy’d told me the place had been totally renovated, all new everything, top of the line, yada yada yada. Before I left Wyndham Beach, I called the Realtor. I just wanted to see the place one more time before someone else bought it. The Realtor met me at the house and gave me a tour.”
“Please tell me you are not moving to Massachusetts.” Natalie’s eyes were wide as saucers.
“Actually, I am moving to Massachusetts. I’m moving back to my hometown, my old home. That’s where I belong. It’s where I always belonged.”
“But . . . Mom.” Grace’s voice held a plea. “Why now? Because of me?”
“Grace, everything isn’t about you,” Natalie snapped.
“I think the timing is a bit suspect, Natalie,” Grace snapped back.
“Please. Girls.” Maggie rubbed her temples. “Don’t.”
“What did you expect, Mom? You call us together and drop this bomb on us? You’re selling the house we both love, where we grew up, so you can buy the house you grew up in? And you never said a word about this until today, and then you tell us you’re moving eight hours away?” Grace’s ire was beginning to show.
“Why would you do this without telling us, Mom?”
“Because I don’t need your consent, nor do I need your approval.” Maggie realized how harsh her words must have sounded. Both girls had sat back as if slapped. “But I do need your understanding. Your father is gone. My best friends are hours away. I need them. I need to go home.”
“Don’t you need us?” Natalie asked.
“Of course I do, sweetie.” Maggie covered Natalie’s hand with one of her own. “But you have your own life. A job you love. One of these days, you’re going to meet someone, and your life will be taking off in another direction. Both of you will.” She tried to force a smile. “And I’ll be left in the dust.”
“What about me?” Grace was on the verge of tears. “I had a home I used to love. A job I used to love. A husband I used to love.”
“Gracie, I know you’re sort of adrift right now. Actually, I thought I’d ask you to come with me and help me get the house straightened out. The seller painted everything white—stark raving white—which means I’ll need to do over every room. I could use your decorating skills.”
“Did you do
this to give me busy work?”
“No, Grace. I did it because I haven’t thought about anything else in weeks. When I went home in September for my reunion, I really did feel like I’d come home. That feeling was intensified when I went back in January.” Maggie looked from one daughter to the other. “Please understand, this is what I need to do. Please respect that and wish me well. And know that the door is always open. You can spend your summers there. We can celebrate all our holidays together just as we always have.” She turned to Grace. “This is the perfect time and place for you to make a new start. If you want, you can take the Massachusetts bar and practice law there if that appeals to you. Or you can stay here and practice. Or do something else entirely, leave the law behind. Your life is your own now, Gracie. You can choose what comes next. I’m asking that you extend the same courtesy to me. Recognize that my life is mine again. Let me choose what’s next for me.”
“Damn, you should have been a lawyer.” Natalie wiped away tears.
“Yeah, that was as good a closing argument as I’ve ever made.” Grace was weepy, too. “Maybe better.”
“I’m hoping to put this house on the market in six weeks. I know I need to have some areas painted and the bathrooms refreshed, but I don’t see any reason to drag this out. Can I count on you to help me get it ready?” Maggie directed her question to Grace.
Grace nodded. “Of course.”
“Me too,” Natalie said. “Winter break starts on Friday. I can come over and help over weekends and next week.”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you both. Now, I’m sure there will be some things you will want to have. I’m going to tag everything I’m taking with me, but everything else is up for grabs. If there’s something you want, put your name on it with a sticky note. I’ll be having my stuff moved into storage in four weeks, then I’m having a house sale.”
“Like a garage sale? It’ll make you nuts, Mom, everyone running through the house, picking up your stuff.” Natalie wrinkled her nose. “Sure you want to do that?”
An Invincible Summer (Wyndham Beach) Page 19
