“We did,” Grace told her. “Thanks for leaving everything pretty much prepped.”
“Nana, Mommy said today I get to ride a carousel with big horses that go up and down.” She climbed into Maggie’s lap. “Do the horses bite? What color are they? Do they have horns like unicorns?”
“Yes, you will get to ride the carousel, but no, the horses don’t bite. We’ll have to wait and see what colors they are, and I don’t think there are any unicorns on Mr. Harrison’s carousel. I rode that carousel when I was a little girl, and so did your mommy and Aunt Grace when they were little.”
The sound of a car door slamming got everyone’s attention.
“That must be Joe.” Maggie lifted Daisy from her lap, stood, smoothed her skirt, and hurried into the house.
She went straight to the front door, then out onto the front porch. Joe approached on the sidewalk, his hand holding an uncertain Lulu, Jamey following behind with obvious reluctance. Maggie stood at the top of the steps to welcome them.
“I’m so glad you’re here. And you’re right on time.” She smiled and held out her hands to Joe. He kissed her on the cheek, and she noticed Jamey turn his head. “Come on in and we’ll get ready for the parade. We should leave in a few minutes.”
The threesome followed her inside, where they met Grace, Natalie, and Daisy.
“Hey, Natalie. Good to see you again,” Joe said. “And this must be Grace. I’ve heard so much about you. I’m so happy to finally meet you.”
Natalie offered a hug, and Grace a brief handshake.
Joe turned to his children. “Jamey, Lulu, meet your aunt Natalie and your aunt Grace.”
Lulu smiled shyly and offered a tiny wave. Jamey glared and half waved in their general direction.
Oh boy. It was clear both children felt unsure and awkward, not totally understanding their place with these three women who were new to them, a normal reaction. But Maggie had high hopes the activities of the day would go a long way toward helping them relax and enjoy themselves. The butterflies in the pit of her stomach may not have been convinced, but she covered her doubts so well no one would have suspected there had been a moment or two when she wondered if perhaps Grace had been right. Perhaps it was too soon. Maybe they should have taken more time to get to know each other. Was she trying too hard to make up for lost time?
Well, she thought, it’s a little late to examine my motives or question my wisdom.
“Guys, it’s going to be hot as blazes later, so you’re going to want to bring water to the parade. I do have a cooler we can take for water bottles, but I think starting out, we should each take a bottle.” She held a cool bottle out to Lulu, who whispered, “Thank you.” Jamey shook his head to decline, but Daisy walked over and took the bottle from Maggie’s hands.
“Mama says we have to drink lots of water when it’s hot,” Daisy told Jamey matter-of-factly, all but forcing the bottle into his hands. After he took it silently, she reminded him, “Now you say thank you.”
Being schooled by a three-year-old apparently stung. Jamey’s mumbled “thank you” was the first words he’d spoken since he’d arrived.
Maggie zipped up the cooler, and Joe stepped in to take it.
“I’ll carry that. Anything else you need?” Joe asked.
“No. I think we’re good.” Maggie pointed to the front door. “Lead the way.”
As if trying to escape, Grace was first out the door, but Joe, with his long legs, easily caught up to her on the porch.
“So Grace, Nat tells me you collect first editions. So do I. Is there any particular genre or time period you favor?” Joe asked.
“Oh.” Grace sounded as if she’d been taken off guard. “Well, I love the old detective mysteries. Mickey Spillane. Raymond Chandler. Dashiell Hammett.”
“Hey, me too! My autographed copy of The Maltese Falcon is my most prized possession.”
“I’m so jealous! I have a first edition, but mine is not signed.”
“Did you know Spillane wrote comic books before he wrote novels?”
“No!” Grace smacked him softly on the arm.
Joe nodded. “Superman. Batman . . .”
“My dad collected those from the nineteen fifties.”
“So did mine . . .”
Listening to the exchange, Maggie sighed with relief. It appeared Grace had forgotten her preconceived dismissal of Joe, and all it had taken was the discovery of a shared love.
“And we’re two for two,” Maggie muttered as she locked the front door.
Behind her, Natalie laughed. “Relax, Mom. It’s going to be a great day. Fourth of July in Wyndham Beach, and we’re all together. What could be better?”
They fell in step with the slow-moving group headed for the center of town.
Grace led the way, walking with Joe on one side and Daisy skipping along on the other. Jamey and Lulu followed close behind their father, not speaking, both looking slightly lost and clearly feeling out of place. Maggie hoped that would change by the end of the day.
Liddy and Emma stood at the curb in front of the bookstore. By the time Maggie caught up with her group, the introductions had already been made. Two blocks away, the parade was beginning to take form, the long line of participants snaking out from the town’s largest parking lot. Brett’s police cruiser was at the front, followed by the Mid-Coast Regional High School Marching Band and a caravan of convertibles carrying the mayor and other municipal leaders.
When the lead car approached the bookstore, it stopped, and Alexis jumped out.
“Alexis!” Daisy jumped up and down with joy to see her new friend. Alexis ran to the side of the street and picked up the three-year-old, apparently as happy to see Daisy as Daisy was to see her.
Maggie gave Brett a thumbs-up before he drove away, leading the parade around the corner toward Prescott Street and the route that would wind the parade all through Wyndham Beach.
“Where’s Chris this weekend?” Liddy asked Emma.
“He’s doing some holiday charity concert out on the West Coast.” Emma’s exasperation was evident. “I just wish one time he’d say no to one of those big gigs that always seems to fall on a holiday weekend. Just once I’d like him to be home. Just. Once.”
“Don’t hold your breath, Em. What does Wyndham Beach have that can compete with the life that boy is living? He’s an international celebrity, and you need to remember that and what it means to be one of the most eligible bachelors in the world,” Liddy told her.
Maggie watched Natalie’s face as she listened to the exchange.
Oh, sweetie, we all love Chris, we really do. But please, don’t . . . In that moment, Maggie feared for her daughter’s heart even more than she had when Jonathan had walked out on her.
Almost defiantly, Natalie turned on her phone and started to record the parade as it passed by.
“Saving Daisy’s first Wyndham Beach glorious Fourth?” Maggie asked.
“No. It’s to send to Chris so he can see what he’s missing,” Natalie said.
“Oh.”
“He asked me to, Mom.” There was a touch of challenge in Natalie’s voice, as if she expected Maggie to question Chris’s interest in his hometown parade. “He really hasn’t forgotten where he came from.”
“I wouldn’t expect him to, sweetie. I’m sure he’ll get a kick out of watching it.”
Natalie resumed her video as the marchers filed by, and Maggie wondered just how interested Chris would be in seeing the local DAR float and the float honoring the one-hundredth anniversary of the founding of the Wyndham Beach Historical Society, or the floats for the local cultural alliance, followed by a flatbed truck carrying several of the teachers from the art center, displaying representative samples of their work. A contingent from the local Vietnam Vets marched by, and there were the usual fire trucks with volunteer firefighters riding on the backs, tossing candy to the children along the route. The widely acknowledged highlight of the parade was the Alden Academy Faculty Marching Kaz
oo Band, composed of teachers and administrators of the local prep school. There were seemingly miles of kids on bikes decorated in red, white, and blue crepe paper streamers. The junior high marching band, playing an off-key version of “The Stars and Stripes Forever,” brought up the rear, followed by one lone police vehicle, lights flashing, no siren, to officially mark the end of the parade.
“Remember when we used to ride our bikes in the parade?” Liddy came up behind Maggie and put an arm around her shoulder. “We’d wrap them in miles of crepe paper, and if it rained, we’d be covered in dye.”
“And the dye would get on our clothes, and our mothers would be all over us for it,” Emma said. When neither Liddy nor Maggie commented, Emma frowned. “No? Just mine?”
“I’m afraid so.” Liddy patted her on the back.
“So what’s next on the agenda, Mom?” Grace asked.
“Footraces in the park.” Maggie gestured toward the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. “Just follow the crowd.”
The crowd spilled into the street and undulated like a fat snake as it headed for Harrison Park, where the festivities would continue. The park was on the grounds of the old Harrison mansion. Built in the late eighteen hundreds, it was unlike anything the residents had ever seen, in parts Gothic, Victorian, Tudor, and Georgian in architecture, depending on the side of the house viewed. Other than the staff in residence—on call when someone was there, otherwise acting as security and maintenance—no one in recent memory had been inside, though it had been the object of speculation for years.
Jasper Harrison had set aside five acres of his vast holdings to be used as a park for the residents of the town, with money from the estate earmarked to maintain and add to it as the town council requested. There was a set limit to what they could spend, but it had been more than adequate. Over the years, they’d added an elaborate wooden play structure for children, a ball field, and a gazebo, which had been intended to be used for summer concerts, but which served only as a backdrop for wedding and prom pictures. No one remembered a concert ever having been held there.
Every year on the Fourth of July, the park overflowed with locals and their visiting friends and relatives. The American flag was raised as the crowd pledged their allegiance. Then the high school band played “The Star-Spangled Banner,” which everyone was expected to sing. The president of the local Boys & Girls Club then announced the order in which the footraces would be held, from the youngest to the oldest, and pointed out the area where the runners were to gather. The script hadn’t changed since Maggie was a girl.
Jamey declined to participate, despite his father’s reminder he was one of the fastest kids in his grade, but Lulu ran with her age group, easily outdistancing the next closest runner. She proudly returned to the group, holding up the blue ribbon and small trophy to her father and her brother, who’d been mostly silent since his arrival. Alexis, who had possibly the longest legs Maggie had ever seen on a young girl, like Lulu, outran everyone else in her field.
“Dad!” she’d cried when she spotted Brett on the sidelines. “Check it out!”
Maggie watched Brett hug his daughter and admire her small trophy engraved with the date. He put an arm around her and crossed the field to join Maggie and the others.
“Some runners in this family,” he grinned as he high-fived Lulu, and she beamed under his praise.
Maggie noticed Jamey kick the ground with the toe of his sneaker, a frown on his face. He was clearly distancing himself, and she wished she knew how to pull him in, but she’d only had daughters, who’d always been pretty vocal in how they felt. She didn’t know Jamey at all and wondered if he’d ever permit her to. She watched Joe’s face as he leaned over and spoke to his son. He gave the boy’s shoulder a squeeze before turning his face back to the crowd as the last race lined up.
After the field activities, they walked farther into the park to witness the unveiling of the carousel. Maggie remembered it well, her memories of having ridden on the hand-painted mounts throughout her childhood and her teen years still vivid.
“Hey, remember when . . .” Brett slipped up behind her and whispered.
“I was just thinking about that.” She smiled at the memory. Once they’d ridden side by side. Every time the ride’s circular motion had hid them from view, he’d leaned over and kissed her. “We were sixteen.”
“Maybe we can hitch a ride on one of those ponies later,” he said, his eyebrows wiggling up and down suggestively.
“The ride will be back in its barn by the time you’re off duty tonight, Chief. But I cherish the memory.”
“Maybe we can catch a few moments alone.” His eyes met hers, and she detected a touch of veiled amusement.
“Doubtful. I suspect we’ll still have a full house by then.”
“Looks like things are going pretty well.” He tilted his head in the direction of Joe, Grace, and Natalie, who were engaged in conversation.
“Better than I’d hoped. It seems Joe and Grace share a love of detective novels’ first editions. There just might be a bit of sibling rivalry brewing, though. They apparently covet the same authors. He has a signed first edition of The Maltese Falcon she’d kill for. She has a copy of Mickey Spillane’s I, the Jury I suspect he may be willing to trade for his firstborn.”
“It’s a good start.”
“It is. Alexis has been great entertaining Daisy and Lulu. The only one I’m concerned about is Jamey. He’s not given an inch since he got here. Doesn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t want to run in the race, doesn’t show any interest in anything or anyone.”
Brett watched the boy from a distance. His body language reinforced Maggie’s assessment. “Everyone and everything is new. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to feel about all these people who are supposed to be related to him and who seem to assume he’s going to like them. He’ll be all right once he figures out his place.”
“I hope so. He hasn’t said a word to me all day.” Maggie fell into an old habit of biting the cuticle of her left thumb. Brett pulled her hand away from her mouth.
“Stop that. You’re not fifteen,” he teased. “Don’t be upset. It’s going to work out. I promise. Trust me. Jamey just needs time.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I was a twelve-year-old boy myself once.” He gave her hand one last squeeze. “I need to make my rounds here. Lots of people to see and greet. I’ll see you after the fireworks.”
Maggie watched him walk away, watched as people stopped him for a handshake or a pat on the back. It was obvious he was well liked and respected in Wyndham Beach, and she felt no small amount of pride in him. He was still that same sweet boy she’d met in homeroom sophomore year. Despite the years and the unexpected turns his life had taken, he was still the Brett she’d known and fallen in love with back then. She had a feeling history might repeat itself.
Sometimes life did move in circles.
Maggie noticed Emma talking to the tall man with the receding hairline and wire-rimmed glasses she recognized from the art center. Owen Harrison had promised to deliver the carousel and had. Someone walked past and handed her a brochure with a picture of the carousel on the front, and Maggie skimmed the text describing the history of the Wyndham Beach amusement. Purchased and brought to Wyndham Beach by Jasper Harrison II in 1905, the horses had been hand carved by one of the two greatest artists of the carousel world, Marcus Illions.
“There are two other Illions carousels I know are still in operation,” Owen was telling Emma when Maggie approached them. “One’s here in Massachusetts, in Springfield, and another in the Columbus Zoo in Ohio. Not sure if others survived.”
“The workmanship is just glorious.” Emma moved closer to the ride.
“Oh, yes. Illions was known for the flamboyance of his creations. He was truly an artist.”
Owen took Emma’s elbow and walked along with her. For as long as Maggie could recall, Emma had shown no real interest in any man who’d shown an
interest in her, and there’d been more than a few since Harry’s death. Yet here was Emma being guided along, apparently deeply fascinated with carousel horses. Will wonders never cease?
She thought the shake of her head was unnoticeable. Liddy apparently noticed.
“Yeah, how ’bout that?” Liddy gestured in Emma’s direction. “That man hasn’t taken his eyes off her since we walked over.”
“Nice. She’s been alone for a long time, and between you and me, Harry wasn’t the greatest husband.”
Liddy nodded in agreement. “There were rumors about him and Darlene Fitch, who worked at the bank . . . I don’t believe Emma ever heard them, but still. And the way he treated Chris—no wonder the kid was always sneaking off to the garage to play his guitar.”
“I’d say it worked out pretty well for Chris, though,” Maggie pointed out.
“Emma misses him. She’s alone too much. It would be nice for her to have a distraction,” Liddy said. “Even if it’s only now and then. I heard he”—she nodded toward Owen—“has a town house in London and a place on Florida’s Jupiter Island. Someone in that family invested all that shipping and lumber money really well.”
An announcement came over the PA system that the first ride of the season was about to begin, so the children who were interested needed to line up at the place designated by a huge flock of balloons tied to a stake in the ground. One by one, the children stepped up to the platform and selected their rides. Maggie took her phone from her pocket and snapped pictures of the elegantly draped horses. Natalie stood in line with Daisy, who danced excitedly.
“I want the black horse, Mommy.” Daisy pointed.
Emma turned at the sound of Daisy’s voice. She said something to Owen, who nodded.
“Daisy, would you like to ride that black horse?” Emma held her hand out.
“Yes! Yes, please!”
“Come along and we’ll ride the carousel together.” Emma helped Daisy onto the platform, then lifted her onto the horse. Daisy’s beaming face said more than words could have.
“Nat, take a picture to send to Chris,” Maggie urged.
An Invincible Summer (Wyndham Beach) Page 34
