Once the garden planning began, Grace took herself out to the front steps. She thought about the pretty pink polish she’d picked up at the drugstore the day before. Now would be a good time to tend to those fingernails that had barely survived all the work she’d done over the past few weeks. She went inside and grabbed the drugstore bag off the kitchen counter and went back out. She’d barely gotten three nails buffed and polished when she heard someone coming across the lawn.
She looked up to see a blond guy wearing cargo shorts, a Grateful Dead T-shirt, flip-flops, aviator glasses, and a goofy grin.
“Chris?” She narrowed her eyes, squinting into the afternoon sun. “Chris Dean?”
“Gracie Flynn!” He jogged the last fifty feet. “Honest to God, I thought I was hallucinating for a minute. You look just like your mom used to look, back in the day. Well, your mom with dark hair.”
“Don’t you know better than to tell a woman she looks just like her mother?” Grace screwed the cap back on the polish and put the bottle on the step. “I’d think a sophisticated world traveler such as yourself would know that.”
“You have me confused with that guy who calls himself DEAN. Besides, your mom was always beautiful. Like mother, like daughter.” He picked her up in a bear hug. “How are you, Gracie?”
“I’m good. You?” She leaned back to look at him, and he kissed her on the forehead, a loud smacking kiss, before setting her down.
“I’m okay. Hanging in there.”
Grace laughed. “Please. Don’t make me admit I know you’re an international superstar.”
“Not when I’m in Wyndham Beach.” He sat on the top step and pulled her down to sit next to him. “Here, I’m Emma’s kid who grew up two streets over and spent many summer hours pulling you and your sister around in an old red wagon.” He paused. “Is she here? Nat?”
Grace shook her head.
“I was hoping she’d be around. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her. How’s she doing? Your mom showed me pictures of her little girl. She’s a cutie.”
“Daisy’s the world’s most perfect three-year-old.”
“And the guy she was living with split?”
“Yeah. Jerk took off as soon as she told him she was pregnant.”
He was quiet for a moment, then said softly, “Bastard.”
“You have no idea, Chris.”
He blew out a long breath. “Natalie deserved better. And you?” He picked up her left hand. “I thought you were married.”
“Was married.” She made a face.
“Your choice or his?”
“Oh, his, definitely. As in his choosing to fall in love with someone else.”
“That sucks, Gracie. I’m sorry. You deserved better, too. He’s obviously a fool and an asshole.”
“What can I say? The Flynn sisters have shit luck when it comes to picking men.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with those Pennsylvania guys.” He put an arm over her shoulder. “What you need is some time out with some old friends. I’m on my way to Dusty’s to meet Ted for a few beers. Come with me.”
“Ted . . . Teddy Affonseca? He’s around?”
“Just for a few days. We try to get back home for the same few days a couple of times a year. This is one of those weekends. Come on, Gracie. He’d love to see you, I know.”
“Chris . . .” She paused. “I’m not the best company right now.”
“What are you talking about? You’re great company.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “I’m really happy to see you.” He glanced at the house. “My mom’s still here, right?”
“Yes. She and Liddy are out back helping my mom move some plants around. She didn’t tell me you were going to be home.”
“She doesn’t know. I thought I’d surprise her.” He stood.
“They’re out back planning Mom’s garden.”
“Coming with me?”
“I need to finish up something. You go on around. I’ll meet you here in a few.”
Chris trotted around the side of the house, and Grace finished giving her nails a quick polish, waved her hands to speed up the drying, then went inside, ran upstairs, and made a quick change into shorts that weren’t sandy and a tank top that didn’t have coffee stains dribbled down the front. She took a minute to brush her hair and pull it back into a ponytail. She made it to the porch with a minute to spare.
“You ready?” Chris came through the front door.
“I should run back and tell my mom I’m leaving.”
“I already told her.”
“Was Emma surprised to see you?” she asked as she stood.
Chris grinned. “You didn’t hear the screaming?” He took her arm. “Come on. Let’s head into town.”
“Maybe just for one beer.”
“Two beers. It’s not worth walking all that way for one beer.”
Grace couldn’t resist. She’d be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t flattered that Chris wanted to spend some time with her.
On their walk to the bar, she sneaked an occasional glance at him. He was taller than she remembered, and he’d filled out a lot since the last time she saw him. His hair had been longer, shaggier when they were in their teens, but now was well trimmed, a cut she knew cost a bundle. His five-o’clock shadow gave him a rugged look his younger self hadn’t had. Walking leisurely along Cottage Street, his hands in the pockets of his shorts, his eyes hidden behind his dark glasses, he could be any thirtysomething-year-old resident of Wyndham Beach out to enjoy an afternoon stroll.
Teddy was waiting for them at the bar and was obviously happy to see Grace. They exchanged condensed versions of their lives since they’d last seen each other.
“Long story short, I’m an actuary with an insurance company in Boston, married to a pediatrician, and father to three-year-old twin girls. I consider it a vacation when I get to come back here to check on my parents and spend a few hours with an old friend or two,” Ted told her.
“My sister, Natalie, has a three-year-old girl as well,” Grace told him.
At the mention of her sister’s name, Chris said, “Let’s call her. What’s her number?”
She seemed to remember there’d been something between Chris and her sister during their teen years—she was never really sure what that something was—but as far as she knew, nothing ever came of it. She’d secretly hoped that Chris wanted her to come along tonight because he wanted to reconnect with her. Had that been a ploy to get Natalie’s number? Nah. If all he’d wanted was Nat’s number, he could have gotten it through Emma.
Chris punched Natalie’s number into his phone, and Grace noticed he’d entered her as a contact, saving the number. He hit “Call” and waited. The phone rang but went to voice mail.
“She doesn’t recognize the number, so she’s not going to pick up,” Grace told him. “Let me call on my phone.” She did, and Natalie picked up right away.
“What’s going on?” Nat asked. “Did you just call me from a different phone? Is everything all right? Mom’s okay?”
“Everything’s fine, but I ran into an old friend who wanted to say hi. Hold on.” Grace put the call on speaker, then passed the phone to Chris.
“Hey! Is this the Nat in the Hat?”
There was a pause followed by a giggle. “Oh my God! Is this Pissy Chrissy?”
Chris tossed his head back and laughed. “You do know that no one has ever been allowed to call me that but you.”
“A right that was well earned, lo, those many years ago.” Natalie laughed. “How are you, Chris?”
“I’m great. Sitting here in Dusty’s having a beer with Gracie and Ted Affonseca. Remember him?”
“Of course I do. Hiya, Ted!”
“Hiya, Natalie. Don’t you wish you were here?” Ted leaned over Grace’s shoulder to make sure he was heard.
“I do. You guys sound like you’re having a great time. But how did you get my sister to agree to a trip to the local tavern?”
Gr
ace frowned and rolled her eyes.
“Must be the old Dean charm,” Chris said.
“I’ve been reading a lot about that Dean charm lately. You really do get around, don’t you?” Natalie teased.
“I don’t know what you’ve been reading, so I’ll just say a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do,” Chris replied good-naturedly.
“Which in your case is apparently to retreat to the nearest cliché. Got it,” Natalie continued to tease Chris. “Though one would think that someone who could write songs like ‘Into the Summer’ and ‘I Will Remember’ could come up with something better than ‘a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.’”
“Hey, you caught me off guard, what can I say?” He paused, then said, “So you liked those songs?”
“Two of my favorites. Not just favorites of my favorite DEAN songs, but of my all-time favorites by anyone, any group, anywhere.”
“Tell you what. We’re playing in Philly next month. We don’t usually do those two anymore, but if you come to the concert, I promise they will be on the set list. What do you say? I’ll make all the arrangements. Transportation, tickets, backstage passes.” His eyes flickered to Grace, as if remembering she was there and he was on her phone. “You and Grace.” He looked directly at Grace and raised an eyebrow. “You still live near Philly, right?”
Grace hesitated. Did she still live there? Rather than answer the question, she said, “I’m in. Nat?”
“How could I turn down an offer like that? Damn right, I’m in. Thanks, Chris. I’m already looking forward to it.”
His voice softened just a little. “So am I. It’ll be great to see you again, Natalie. And now, I’m giving your sister her phone and buying her another beer. See what you’re missing?”
“Are you coming up this weekend?” Grace asked after taking the phone off speaker.
“I wish I could, but it’s the end of the semester. Professor Flynn has papers to read and grades to send out. Can I call you tonight?”
“Sure. I’m not planning on staying out too late with these two.”
“Oh, you should. How long’s it been since you just went out for a good time?”
“It’s been a while. But I think the guys are ready for some guy talk, so I’ll be heading back to Mom’s.”
“How’s she doing? Does she seem to be adjusting to the move?”
Grace laughed. “She’s already lined up painters and planned new garden beds. She’s fine. Better than fine. She seems happier than she’s been since before Dad died.”
“That’s good. I was afraid maybe she’d get up there and realize the Bryn Mawr house really was gone for good and . . .”
“Yeah, I wondered, but she really seems at peace with the decision.”
“Great. Look, I’ll talk to you tonight. I have to run to pick up Daisy at day care.”
Grace ended the call and put her phone on the bar.
“I meant to ask her if she was going to be coming up this weekend,” Chris said. “Do you know if she has plans?”
She shook her head. “Yes. She plans on working because it’s the end of the semester. Papers and tests to grade. You know that she teaches in a community college, right?”
“I do. Mom keeps me up to date. Sorry to miss her this trip. Guess I’ll have to wait till we can hook up in Philly.”
Grace studied Chris’s expression. He really did look sorry to be missing Natalie. Too bad for me, she thought, but lucky Nat. The rock-god thing aside, he’d sure grown up nice, as her grandmother Lloyd would have said.
Chapter Fourteen
NATALIE
“Done.” Natalie posted the last of the grades and breathed a sigh of relief.
The semester was over, and almost all her students did well, or at least reasonably well. There were a few standouts and a few who never did catch on, but that was to be expected in any class. Before shutting down her laptop, she reread the emails from the two recipients of the Arthur J. Flynn Merit Scholarships and smiled. Her father would have been so proud to see his dream become a reality.
The house was quiet as she checked the doors and windows and turned off the downstairs lights. She’d opted not to teach over the summer as she had in the past because she wanted to spend some time with her mother and sister in Wyndham Beach. She was in constant contact with them, usually FaceTiming with Daisy before bath and book time. It sounded like such a lazy, peaceful life they had, and she wanted to join them. Grace would be back in two days for the concert Chris had promised them, and the Flynn sisters were excited by the prospect. Grace had seen Chris in person about a month ago, but Natalie had to be content with FaceTime, and when it was Chris Dean she’d been FaceTiming with, it was pretty damned cool.
She showered and got into bed, and stacked the pillows behind her before she pulled up the light spread. She gazed out the window at the night sky, dark and dotted with stars, easily visible in the country town she lived in where there was little ambient light. She picked one and made a wish, something she wasn’t sure she’d admit to, but old habits were hard to break. Earlier she and Daisy had sat on their little patio, and Daisy had recited her version of “Star Light, Star Bright,” ending with a wish she could find her glowworm, which she’d been looking for all afternoon. Natalie suspected Daisy had sneaked the toy into day care and left it there. Natalie would check in the morning when she dropped her daughter off.
Natalie hadn’t seen Grace since she’d left for Wyndham Beach, but she sounded so much better than she had when she’d left. Natalie still couldn’t believe the shitstorm that had hit out of the blue, forcing her sister from her job and her home. She hoped Amber faced a prison sentence for her part in ruining Grace’s life. Still, things were looking better for Grace right then than they were for Amber, a fact that Natalie found gratifying.
She stretched out and closed her eyes, but all she could think about was the upcoming concert and seeing Chris Dean again. It had been about twelve years since she’d seen him, and that last night they had been together had left her confused and unsettled. She had been seventeen and about to go abroad for six weeks in Italy, touring art museums with a friend from school—a combined graduation gift and early eighteenth-birthday present from her parents—and Chris had been twenty-one and about to embark on his band’s first legit tour. They’d sat side by side, elbows touching, on the big rock overlooking the harbor, watching the sun set. Darkness had slowly grown around them as the lights came on in the houses across the water.
“We’re just the opening-opening-opening act,” he’d told her, “but you walk before you run, right?”
“I’m not sure what that means, exactly, but nonetheless, I am impressed.”
Chris had laughed. “It means there are two other opening acts after us and before the main event. They always put the least known act on first. That would be us. But that’s one of the things I’ve always liked about you, Nat. Everyone else just said ‘Cool’ when I told them. You’re the only one who was interested enough to ask.”
“My dad always says, ‘If you don’t ask, you don’t learn.’”
“So it’s my turn to ask. What exactly will you be doing this summer, besides fighting off all those Italian guys who’ll be following you around, begging for a date?” He’d slipped into an exaggerated accent. “Ciao, bella. You are beautiful. Will you marry me?”
Natalie had laughed. “Right. I’m sure I’ll be pursued by scores of Italian lovers.”
“Would-be lovers,” he’d said. “You’re too smart to fall for a line.”
“Maybe I’ll want to, before I come home. Why go to Italy if you’re not going to sample the local talent?”
“Natalie Flynn. We both know that would never happen.”
“We don’t know. That’s the fun of a summer abroad without my parents. Maybe I’ll meet someone tall, dark, and handsome, and he’ll sweep me off my feet.”
“Don’t,” he’d said with less levity than she’d expected. “If that happened, you wouldn’
t come back.”
“And?”
“And I’m going to be thinking about you being here, in Wyndham Beach.”
“Why? You won’t be here. You’ll be flying all over the world, with groupies begging to sleep with you, selling out arenas. Becoming an international rock star. You won’t have time to think about me here or anywhere else.” She’d risked a quick peek at his face, to see if she could tell what he was thinking.
“I’m hoping you’re right about the international thing. Our band is so good. We deserve to make it, Nat. But the rest of that . . . the groupie thing, I’m not so sure. And I don’t think there’s ever going to be a time when I don’t think about you.”
They’d spent so much time together that summer, even their mothers had commented on it. Natalie had heard them discussing the relationship between their offspring and wondering just what it meant.
“Chris goes out with several girls, and I know Natalie has been seeing Andy Simmons this summer, but Chris seems to be spending an awful lot of time with Natalie.” Emma had been sitting on her front porch with Maggie. “Not that it wouldn’t make me happy to see him with Natalie. She’s perfect.”
Maggie had laughed. “The girl is not perfect, but I’m pleased to see them together. I think they’re just friends. They go to the beach together and that sort of thing. But I don’t see them dating. Nat’s only seventeen and Chris is four years older.”
“A good age difference,” Emma had said, “but I agree, they seem to be more interested in just being friends.”
And for most of the summer, they had been. Natalie would never have admitted to Chris or to anyone else—not even her best friend—that he was the only guy who attracted her in that way, that the crush she had on him was killing her. She liked him so much, had so much fun in his company, was so happy in his company, that she wouldn’t risk ruining it with a confession that would have been humiliating because he would inevitably have told her he thought of her only as a friend.
An Invincible Summer (Wyndham Beach) Page 21
