Chapter Fifteen
MAGGIE
“I think I want to move some of the iris over by the garage,” Maggie told Liddy. “I think the purple flowers against the weathered gray wood will be stunning.”
“Okay. Let me get a shovel.” Liddy sat on the bottom step of the deck, looking over the array of garden tools Maggie had laid upon the grass.
“We’ll use the new spade. It’s the one with the blue handle.” Maggie pointed to the tool, and Liddy held it up. “Yes, that one.”
Liddy handed over the spade and Maggie proceeded to dig up the clumps that had sat neglected under the shade of a forsythia that had been permitted to grow wild and unchecked. Earlier that morning, she’d pruned the shrubs to a more manageable size and shape, and it was then she’d discovered the iris.
“These must have been my mom’s,” Maggie said as she dug. “She used to have a patch of them. She loved iris. And I see they’ve done their thing and multiplied. There must be fifty or sixty plants out here.”
“Well, since it appears the previous owners didn’t do much gardening, they probably were your mother’s. I know iris can hang on for a long time even under poor conditions. But they’ll be happier over there in the sun.”
“I’ll have to divide these clumps before I can replant them.” Maggie wiped the sweat from her forehead with her forearm.
“Want me to dig a bed next to the garage so all you have to do is drop in the tubers?”
“That would be great, Lid, but you don’t have to. You can sit and watch.” Maggie knew there was no way in hell Liddy would sit in the shade and watch Maggie work.
“What, and miss an opportunity to tell everyone how you worked me like a dog? Ha. Not a chance.” Liddy picked up a shovel. “I think the iris should go right here.” She pointed to a short stretch of ground along the side of the garage.
“Perfect.” Maggie began to divide the clumps.
“Where’s Grace this afternoon?” Liddy dug in and turned over a shovelful of dirt.
“She went into town to pick up some things from the general store and the wine shop. Natalie and Daisy will be here tomorrow afternoon, so we’re planning a reunion dinner.” Maggie smiled at the thought of seeing her daughter and her granddaughter again.
“How long are they staying?” Liddy bent down and shook dirt from a clump of grass, then resumed digging.
“Natalie wasn’t sure. I told her I’d love to have them, but if she wanted to leave and then come back, she was welcome to do so. Whatever fits her schedule.”
Liddy knelt to remove some weeds, and Maggie stood watching her.
“What?” Liddy asked without turning around.
“What what?”
“What is it you’re not saying?” Liddy stood and leaned on the shovel. “I can feel your eyes on my back, and it’s spooky. Out with it.”
Maggie sighed. “It could just be me. But I got this strange feeling from Nat last night on the phone. Like there was something she wasn’t saying.”
“Maybe she has a new boyfriend,” Liddy suggested. “Maybe she’s running off with Chris and wants you to know before the tabloids get their hands on the story.”
Maggie laughed. “That’s not likely to happen. Not that I’d mind.” She knelt and began to pull apart the iris tubers. “It’s probably nothing. I know she’s been busy with the end of classes.”
“It’s a busy time of the year.” Liddy resumed digging. “Did you hear old Mr. Lattimore is retiring?”
“Fred Lattimore, who owns the bookstore?”
“Yep. Word is his son wants him to sell it.”
Maggie paused her work. “I hope that’s just a rumor without substance. We’d have no bookstore in town. Unless someone buys it.” She considered the loss to the community. Grace stopped in at least twice a week for a new book or magazine, and Maggie often accompanied her. “What are the chances someone will buy it?”
“Pretty damned good.”
“What have you heard?” Maggie stretched. She hadn’t realized how out of shape she was. Time to get back to yoga. And maybe running, as she’d talked about doing. She should call Dee Olson, get some tips on training. Run a marathon was still on the list.
“I heard a certain woman with whom you are quite friendly—one might even say a BFF—is looking into the possibility,” Liddy said, her tone a tease.
“What? When would Emma have time to . . . ?” Maggie stopped and stared at Liddy’s back.
“Turn around.”
When she did, Liddy was grinning.
“Liddy? You’re thinking about buying the bookstore?”
“Fred’s son and I had a long chat yesterday afternoon. You know Fred is in his eighties, and he’s showing signs of Alzheimer’s. Carl—that’s Fred’s son, I don’t know if you ever met him, but he runs the hardware store—he said Fred’s becoming increasingly forgetful. Some days he forgets to open the store, so whoever is working that morning has to call Carl to come and unlock it. Other days, he forgets to lock up when he leaves. Or he forgets to leave. Carl said he’s had to run down there some nights at ten or eleven o’clock to pick him up. And a couple of nights, Brett has found him wandering around town late. He’s brought him to Carl’s several times.”
“That makes me so sad. I remember Mr. Lattimore always being in the store in the summers when Mom and I would take the girls for story hour. What a shame.” She brushed the dirt from off the back of her shorts and motioned for Liddy to follow her to the deck. “Hold that thought. I’m going to run in and get some drinks. Stay right there.”
She dashed into the kitchen, grabbed two glasses and a pitcher of ice tea, and took it all outside. Liddy held the door for her, and they sat at the round black iron glass-topped table Maggie had brought with her from her Bryn Mawr house.
“Talk,” Maggie said as she poured tea. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking I should be doing something with my life besides feeling sorry for myself. I’ve always loved that store. I used to take Jessie there every week to pick out a book. I spend so much time in that place I might as well buy it.” With a forefinger, Liddy traced the condensed drips of water that ran down the side of the glass. “I want to do something useful. And I don’t want Wyndham Beach to be without a bookstore. It’s too important for the town.”
“Can’t argue with that. You’d be a great bookseller. You know books, that’s for sure. Yes, I could see you owning that store, Lids.”
“Thanks. I told Carl to call me after he decides how much they want for it. They own the building, but he’s not sure he wants to sell it. Maybe just rent the space. He’s going to talk to their lawyer and get back to me.”
“Well, if it wasn’t so hot, I’d suggest we toast this bit of news with wine, but I know I’d fall flat on my face after just one glass.” She raised her ice tea and tilted it in Liddy’s direction. “So let’s drink to this new venture.”
“Possible venture.”
“This new possible venture, and we’ll cross our fingers and hope for the best.”
“And now, I suggest we get those iris in the ground,” Liddy said after she drained her glass. “Otherwise, when I tell the story about how I had to redo your garden for you, I might have to admit to being complicit in killing off your mother’s iris.”
Maggie spent the evening preparing for Natalie and Daisy’s arrival the next day. The guest room across the hall from Maggie’s was fluffed, with a vase of fresh daisies set upon the dresser. Thinking ahead to visits from her granddaughter, Maggie had ordered a double bed for Natalie with a trundle bed that pulled out from underneath so Daisy would have her own special place to sleep. When she got older, Daisy could have her own bedroom. The list Maggie had given Grace to take to the general store included some of Natalie’s and Daisy’s favorite foods, and several bottles of wine the three adults could enjoy. She was so excited when the car pulled into the driveway a little after four, she raced outside and flung open the rear passenger door to
greet Daisy in her car seat.
“Sweet pea! I’ve missed you!” She swooped in and kissed the little girl’s face. “Hi, Nat! I’m so glad you’re here!”
“I missed you, Nana.” Daisy struggled to release her seat belt.
“Hold up, baby. Let me get that.” Maggie tried but once again was foiled by the intricacies of the car seat.
“I’ll do it, Mom.” Natalie got out of the car and walked around.
“It’s different from the one she had before,” Maggie noted.
“Yeah, well, she’s growing.” Natalie proceeded to help Daisy out of her seat with ease.
The first clue Maggie picked up was the cool tone of Natalie’s voice. The second was the realization that her daughter hadn’t greeted her with a hug. The third? A refusal to meet Maggie’s eyes.
“Nat? What’s wrong?” Maggie took a step back.
“We can talk about it later.” Natalie went around to the back of her car to retrieve their bags.
“Here, let me help you.” Maggie reached to help but Natalie stepped aside.
“I’ve got them, Mom.”
“Mommy, where’s the beach?” Daisy stood in the driveway, looking around. “You said there was a beach at Nana’s new house.”
“We’ll go see it as soon as we get our things inside.” Natalie started up the walk to the front porch. “Come on, Daisy.”
Daisy reached her hand to Maggie, who gave it a little squeeze. Whatever had gotten under Natalie’s skin apparently hadn’t been shared with her daughter.
Daisy chatted away, accompanying Maggie into the kitchen for a snack. Seated on a booster seat at the island, Daisy drank a glass of milk and ate a freshly baked oatmeal cookie while she told Maggie all about the ride and how she kept asking when they’d be here and how far was the beach and was Nana going to get a dog or maybe a cat now that she lived here and could she see the backyard and was there a swing set . . .
“Daisy, you’re making my head spin.” Maggie laughed. “Let’s do one question at a time.”
But before Daisy could resume, Natalie came into the kitchen.
“What are you eating?” She peered into her daughter’s hand. “You know you’re not supposed to snack before dinner.”
Before Natalie could take the cookie, Daisy shoved the remains into her mouth. Her “Nana gave it to me” was barely discernable.
“Mom, we don’t snack between meals. You know that.” Natalie was clearly annoyed, but she did not look her mother in the eye. “Finish your milk, Daisy. We’re going for a walk.”
Natalie stood next to Daisy’s chair and watched her daughter empty the glass. “Good. Let’s go.” She helped Daisy out of the seat and stood her on the floor. Without looking at Maggie, she asked, “Where’s Grace?”
“She ran into town to pick up some things for dinner,” Maggie said softly. “Natalie, what is your problem?”
“Later.” Natalie dismissed her mother and started toward the front door. “When she gets back, tell her we went to the beach.”
“Natalie, you’re being very rude.” Maggie could barely keep the hurt from her voice.
“Sorry,” Natalie said, still on her way to the door.
“You’re not acting very sorry.” Maggie followed them to the foyer, her arms crossed over her chest. “And it’s not like you to be secretive.”
Natalie turned, her eyes blazing with anger. “Then that would make two of us.”
“What?”
A confused Maggie watched Natalie and Daisy walk toward the beach.
She went out onto the porch and relived every conversation she and Natalie had had over the past few weeks, but there’d been nothing—nothing—she could point to. There’d been no arguments, no cross words. On the contrary, they were both looking forward to this visit and the opportunity to spend some fun time together.
Baffled, Maggie was still standing on the steps, staring in the direction of the beach, when Grace pulled into the driveway and parked behind Natalie’s car. She opened the rear passenger door and took out a shopping bag and hurried toward the house.
“Yay! Nat and Daisy are here! Are they inside?”
Maggie gestured. “Your sister took Daisy to the beach.”
“I’ll run down and join them as soon as I get this stuff into the house.” Grace hoisted the bag onto her hip and went inside. When she came back out, she said, “I couldn’t get the wine you wanted, but I did find a really nice . . .” She fell silent, apparently noticing her mother’s demeanor.
“Mom, are you all right?”
“I was until your sister got here.” Maggie turned to Grace. “I don’t know what I did to make her angry. I’ve never seen her like this.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Natalie. She’s being . . . obnoxious. Rude.” She made no effort to disguise the hurt.
“That’s so not like her. No hint why?”
Maggie shook her head. “I asked her, and she just said ‘later.’ Which I guess means after Daisy goes to sleep. She didn’t mention anything to you?”
“No. The last time I talked to her, she was excited about coming and spending some time with us. What the hell could have happened between then and now?”
“I have no idea.”
“Look, I’ll get the rest of the stuff out of the car, then I’ll walk down to the beach and see if I can figure out what’s going on.” Grace gave her mother a hug. “She’s probably in a snit over something that has nothing to do with you, Mom. Not that she should take it out on you, but we’ll get to the bottom of it and help her get through it, and all will be well.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Maggie helped Grace bring the groceries into the house, then unloaded the bags while Grace went to join Natalie and Daisy on the beach. She began to organize dinner—steaks to go on the grill, a big salad, oven-roasted potato wedges, and fresh green beans. She’d finished the salad, cut the potatoes and tossed them in olive oil and herbs, and trimmed the green beans, and her daughters still hadn’t returned. Well, maybe Natalie needed to unload to her sister, she thought as she opened a box of crackers and arranged them on a platter. I guess that’s what sisters are for.
Suddenly feeling very sorry for herself that she and Sarah never had those moments to share as adults, she poured a glass of wine and let the melancholy roll through her before tossing it off and reminding herself she had nothing to feel sad about. Her daughters were both here with her—Natalie’s snit aside—and her one and only grandchild was here, and they were all healthy and reasonably happy.
That had been her last thought before Natalie, Grace, and Daisy came in through the front door and one of them went dashing up the stairs to the second floor.
“Was that Grace I saw running upstairs?” Maggie asked when Natalie followed Daisy into the kitchen.
“Well, there are only two of us, and I’m here, so good guess.” Natalie walked past her mother and went straight to the island, where Maggie had set out the wine goblets. Pouring herself a glass of merlot, she took a long sip.
“Excuse me?” Maggie set her glass on the counter. “Are you speaking to me in that tone?”
Natalie made a pretense of looking around the room as if searching for someone else. “Do you see anyone else?”
“What in the name of God is going on with you?”
“I don’t feel like talking about it right now.” Natalie helped Daisy onto one of the island’s barstools.
“And I don’t feel like being the target of your rudeness. Whatever it is that’s gotten under your skin, we can talk it over, Nat.”
“Maybe we should have had that talk long ago, Mom.” Natalie opened the refrigerator, took out a block of cheese, and began to thinly slice it. She added the cheese, piece by piece, onto the platter where Maggie had placed the crackers.
“If you’re going to keep poking at me, you might as well just come out and say whatever is on your mind.”
Natalie raised an
eyebrow but didn’t comment.
“Natalie, I have no idea what this is about.”
“Oh, really? You can’t think of one thing . . .” She bit her lip and went silent.
“Nana, can I put the grapes on the plate with the cheese?” Daisy knelt on the seat and, leaning on the island, reached for the bowl of fruit, her little hands hovering over the cluster of green grapes.
“Of course, sweetie. Thank you for being such a good helper girl.”
Oblivious to the drama around her, Daisy beamed and nodded. “I am a good helper. I help Miss Julie at school every day.”
Maggie leaned next to Daisy and ran a hand over the girl’s head. “I’m sure you do.”
To Natalie, she said, “No, I cannot think of one thing that would excuse your behavior. Now go upstairs and get your sister, and let’s get dinner on the table. See if we can get through a meal without you biting my head off.”
Natalie put her glass down with more force than necessary, left the room, and stomped up the steps to the second floor.
Maggie took a deep breath and turned her attention to her granddaughter. “Are you hungry, Daisy?”
“I am very hungry, Nana.” Daisy picked the grapes off their stems one by one and put them onto the cheese plate, chatting away about the beach and the birds they saw and the shells she found.
All the while, Maggie fought off the feeling of dread that something terrible was about to happen, but she was at a loss to understand what, or why.
Grace and Natalie came downstairs looking very much like conspirators, Natalie’s jaw set and Grace’s eyes rimmed in red. Maggie decided to let it ride for the time being. Her daughters took their glasses and a bottle of wine and the cheese platter out to the deck, leaving Maggie to prepare dinner on her own, which she normally wouldn’t have minded. But she had the sense their turning their backs on her was a joint protest, and she was already weary of trying to figure out what was at the bottom of it. She slipped a CD into the player on the counter and filled the room with music, dancing with Daisy between putting the potatoes in the oven and getting the steaks ready to grill. For a few moments, she forgot about Natalie and whatever it was that had her in such a mood.
An Invincible Summer (Wyndham Beach) Page 23
