Firefly Summer (26 page)

C
HAPTER
58

P
iper felt like the Tasmanian devil as she rushed around the house, tucking away papers, washing windows, scrubbing floors, wiping down the counters, cleaning out the fridge to make room for all the food, and vacuuming up several weeks of wispy golden retriever hair that had congregated in the corners. All the while, Chloe followed her around, happily carrying new Zoe in her mouth and wagging her tail because she knew—from past experience—that cleaning meant company was coming!

While Piper worked inside, Nat and Elias worked outside—mowing and trimming the lawn, weeding all the flower beds and the vegetable garden, and
finally
spreading the huge pile of mulch that had been sitting in the driveway for a month. Piper went out to see how they were doing and realized the sky was slate gray.
So much for setting up the picnic tables and chairs,
she thought glumly. “You guys better head in,” she called as a gust of wind sent leaves spiraling into the sky.

She opened the fridge, pulled out the cold cuts she'd bought the day before, and opened up a new bag of grinder rolls. Chloe settled strategically at her feet to watch her every move. “You're silly, you know that?” she said, breaking off a piece of cheese and offering it to her. Chloe took it politely, and in the very next moment, a bright light flashed outside, followed by a loud
clap
of thunder that made the lights flicker. Piper looked outside again and saw Nat and Elias scrambling to put their tools away, and just as the skies opened up, they tumbled through the door, laughing. “Don't you two know you shouldn't be carrying metal tools around during a thunderstorm?”

“Yes, we know,” Elias said, reaching around her for a piece of cheese and then breaking off a small piece for Chloe.

“I just gave her a piece,” Piper scolded.

“Oh well,” he said, kissing the top of the golden's head. “She got two pieces!”

Chloe licked his cheek and thumped her tail. “I think she said she wants a piece of ham,” he said, trying to reach around his mom again, but this time, Piper slapped his hand. “Hey!” he said, laughing. “Sorry, Chlo . . . I tried.”

Piper handed him a plate and saw him reaching for a large unopened bag of Cape Cod waffle chips. “Those are for tomorrow.”

Elias looked wounded. “They are?”

“Oh, go ahead,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But don't eat 'em all.”

Thunder rumbled across the heavens, and then they heard
patter
ing and
click
ing on the roof and they all stood up and looked outside. “It's hailing,” Nat said in surprise.

“Holy cow! Look at the size of it!” Elias pushed open the door and picked up several pieces of the frozen water and held them in his palm. As they looked at them, they heard a loud
crack
followed by the sound of splitting of wood. Piper looked out and saw a long, heavy branch of one of the oak trees spear the ground. She went out on the porch to see the damage and watched as the wind rushed through the remaining branches of the old oaks, swaying them violently. Her heart pounded. “Please don't let any of those old trees come down,” she whispered. Almost immediately, she heard her father's reassuring voice from her childhood telling her that the roots of the trees he'd planted when they were each born would intertwine as they grew and would be able to withstand any storm. “They will never fall,” he'd said.

Piper pictured the roots of the old trees deep below the earth's surface, wrapping around each other like the long tendrils of life, weaving and growing . . . ever deeper . . . ever stronger . . . able to withstand any of life's storms.

Piper smiled and then looked down at her wet clothes and sighed. She went back inside and glanced at the clock—it was already two o'clock! Where had the day gone?! She hadn't even showered yet, and she was supposed to be in Chatham in an hour! “I have to go,” she said, rewrapping the cold cuts and putting them back in the fridge.

“Where are you going?” Nat asked in surprise.

“Sailor's book signing.”

“You're driving to Chatham in this?”

“I am. I told her I'd come and then we're going to the Squires after.”

“I thought we had stuff to do.”

“I did all
my
stuff,” she said.

“Nice,” Elias said with his mouth full of grinder. “How come you didn't invite us?”

“Because I didn't think you'd want to go, and besides, you have to go to the sanctuary to check on the old lady.”

“That's right!” Nat said. “Thanks for reminding me.” He looked at Elias. “Want to come along?”

“I'd love to,” Elias said. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Okay, you two,” Piper said, laughing as she wiped the crumbs off the counter. “I honestly didn't think you'd want to go to a children's book signing, and since I'll probably grab something to eat with Sailor—”

“And drink,” Nat said, winking at Elias.

Piper shook her head. “Well, anyway, you two should probably plan on stopping for pizza or something on your way home.”

“Sure,” Nat teased, nodding to Elias. “She goes from telling us she's going to a book signing to now telling us she's going out for dinner and drinks.”

“And she didn't invite us,” Elias added.

“
I
didn't say anything about drinks,” Piper countered.

“I don't think the Quinn sisters can get together
without
drinking,” Nat teased.

“Oh yes, we can, and now, I'm heading upstairs to take my shower.”

“Mom, don't you know you're not supposed to take a shower during a thunderstorm?”

“I'll have to take my chances,” Piper said, “and by the way, you two spend a lot of time ganging up on me when you're together.” She eyed Elias. “So I might just have to send
you
back to school early.”

“No, we don't,” they said in unison. “Do we, Chlo?” Nat added, rubbing the golden's ears. She wagged her tail in happy agreement.

C
HAPTER
59

S
unday morning dawned cool and crisp. Birdie poured two mugs of coffee while thinking about the day ahead. She and David were supposed to be at Piper's around two and she still had her potato salad to make—which wouldn't take long, but she wanted to make something else, too . . . and she hadn't decided what yet.

She set one of the mugs down in front of David, who was looking at the paper. “Would you like some scrambled eggs?”

“Sounds good,” he answered. “Want help?”

“No, you stay put.”

She opened the fridge and took out the ingredients she'd need: four eggs, milk, and just enough butter for the pan. Ever since they'd retired, David had been in charge of breakfast, but ever since his heart attack, Birdie had been in charge of everything. . . and she took David's new low-fat, low-salt diet very seriously. They'd always eaten plenty of fruits and vegetables, but now, Birdie had decided to make a conscientious effort to minimize their fat and salt intake, too. The thought of David dying had scared
her
more than it had scared him!

“Toast?” she asked.

“Half a slice,” he said, watching her bustle around the kitchen, making the eggs and opening the bread bag. He watched her turn on the front burner and drop a dab of butter into the frying pan, and the simple act made him smile. The last week had been a whirlwind for both of them, but mostly for Birdie. She'd brought him home from the hospital and helped him get settled; she'd coordinated with Remy to stop by and walk Bailey; she'd made sure he had everything he needed and waited on him hand and foot. She'd given him her undivided attention and assumed all the responsibilities around the house that had been his; in fact, her willingness to do everything had started to make him feel guilty. Especially yesterday, when the power had gone out for over an hour and she'd been in the middle of cooking an Oven Stuffer. She'd kept her cool while they waited for the power to come back on . . . and the chicken had turned out to be one of the tastiest they'd ever had.

“It must be that low-temp, slow-cooking method people are always talking about,” she'd said, chuckling, when he commented on how moist it was.

David was astounded by the change that had come over her—she was no longer in a brooding, dark place . . . and he hadn't seen her take even a sip of wine—in fact, there were no wine bottles around at all!

“What're you making for the picnic?” he asked.

“Potato salad and maybe fruit salad, but if I make a fruit salad, I have to run to the store,” she said, scraping the scrambled eggs onto two plates.

“That's fine. I'm sure I'll be okay. Bailey will look after me, won't you, girl?” He stroked her head—which had been on his lap every time he sat down since he'd gotten home from the hospital. “I'm lucky to have
two
girls looking out for me.”

Birdie chuckled and reached for her coffee. “It will be nice to see everyone. I can't remember the last time we saw Remy's grandkids.”

“Probably last summer,” David surmised, taking a bite of his toast. He frowned. “Isn't Sailor's family coming, too?”

“Noo ...” Birdie said, shaking her head, “and she's
not
happy about it.”

“Why aren't they?”

“Because Frank invited them to Maine.”

“Had she invited them here?”

“She hadn't—she just assumed they knew they were invited because we always get together on the Fourth, but now, everything's different. She's discovering she's going to have to get used to sharing the kids on the holidays.”

David shook his head and took a bite of his eggs. “You're going to have to give me a refresher on Remy's grandkids because I don't remember their names.”

Birdie smiled, swallowing the bite she'd just taken. “I couldn't remember, either,” she said, reaching for the index card that was propped up between the salt and pepper shakers and the napkin holder. “That's why I asked Remy to write it down.” She put on her glasses and studied the card. “Okay ... so Payton and Tom have two girls, Hunter and Parker—who are ten and eight.”

“Oh, right,” David said, his memory jogged. “The girls with the boys' names.”

“Right,” Birdie said.

“I think odd names run in your family.”

“I think you're right,” Birdie said, laughing. “Shall I continue?”

“Yes,” he said as he sipped his coffee.

“Sam and Tess have a boy and a girl. Elliot is seven and Maya is five.”

David nodded. “That's a little better. Sam always had a good head on his shoulders.”

“Eliza and Tim have three boys now—she just had the third one in March. Their names are Mason, Cayden, and Logan—they are three, two . . . and the new little one is almost four months.”

“What is it with people giving their children names that all sound the same?” he asked, sounding perplexed.

“I have no idea,” Birdie said. “Maybe it's to make it easier for their elderly aunts and uncles to remember.”

“Or harder,” David said. “Thank goodness Sailor's grandkids
aren't
coming because I would never remember everyone. I'm lucky if I can keep the first generation straight.”

Birdie smiled. “I'm sure you'll do fine, and if you forget, you can always resort to ‘
Hey, you!
' ”

“I might just have to,” he said, chuckling, and then he looked at her with a puzzled expression. “What's your name again?”

Birdie laughed and shook her head.

C
HAPTER
60

S
ailor hurriedly packed the food she'd made into the new cooler she'd bought and then carried it out and loaded it in the back of her car. The food would be fine—she only had one stop to make along the way—but she worried that Piper wouldn't have enough room in her fridge for everything, and having an extra cooler around would only be helpful. She went back into the kitchen and looked around one last time as Mister Breeze sauntered in from the bedroom. “What's it going to be, sir, in or out?” she asked, holding the door open for him. “I'm going to be gone
all day
.” He swished between her legs and stood on the threshold, peering outside and blinking at the sunshine. “That's all right. Take your time,” she said. “I'm not in any hurry.” The orange cat—who had put on a little weight and whose coat was getting shiny—stretched his front legs with his butt in the air and then stepped gingerly outside. “Good choice,” she said, slipping her bag over her shoulder and stepping out behind him. She closed the door and knelt down to stroke his head. “I'll be back tonight.” He pushed his head up into her hand, purring, and then hopped up into one of the chairs and stretched out in the sunshine.

Twenty minutes later, Sailor was perusing the shelves of Birdie's favorite package store when Alec—the young new owner with the French accent that Birdie thought was cute—came up behind her. “Where is your sister?” he asked with concerned eyes. “I haven't seen her in long time.”

“Birdie?” Sailor asked, frowning.

“
Oui,
she looks like you but older—long, silvery hair,” he said, motioning with his hands. “Pretty face”—he circled his own face as he said this—“I miss her.”

Sailor laughed. “I don't know where she's been.”

“She is my best customer. She buys wine by the case!”

Sailor shook her head. “I'll be seeing her this afternoon and I'll tell her you miss her.”

Alec nodded. “
Merci
. Now, may I help you find somezing?”

“Oh, I'm looking for something picnicky. . . .”

He nodded and showed her a sauvignon blanc that was very popular and he picked out a new malbec for Birdie. “This is for your sister—she favors red. It is on the house—you tell her it is a gift from me.”

Sailor laughed. “Okay, thank you, Alec. I will definitely tell her.”

He nodded and turned to another customer who was waiting to ask a question. Sailor turned away at the same time to look at the beers and promptly bumped into another customer. “Oops, I'm sorry,” she said, almost dropping the wine bottles. She clutched them to her chest and looked up. “Oh, hi!” she said, her face lighting up.

“Hi,” Josiah said, smiling. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“I was going to say the same thing,” she said, laughing. She looked down and saw he already had a six-pack in his hand. “I don't know much about beer . . . is that any good?”

Josiah held up the six-pack of Naughty Nurse and shrugged. “I don't know—this is my first Naughty Nurse,” he said, smiling, “but it sounds good.”

“I'm looking for something to take to a picnic for my brother-in-law—who just got out of the hospital . . . although I'm not sure if he can have beer yet.” She looked at the come-hither look of the nurse on the label and smiled. “That would be perfect! Where'd you find it?”

Josiah motioned to a beer case, and Sailor pulled out two more six-packs while still juggling the wine. “So, what are you doing for the holiday? Anything fun?”

“Not really. Just me and my nurses,” he said, gesturing to his six-pack.

Sailor frowned. “No family picnic?”

“No, before my divorce my wife and I always used to go to her family's picnic in the Berkshires and then to a concert at Tanglewood, but not anymore.”

Sailor suddenly felt bad. “I know just how you feel,” she said sympathetically. “My sister always has a big family picnic around the Fourth—it's been a tradition forever—and my kids and grandkids always come, but this year, my ex invited them to Maine. I still can't believe they're not coming.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

“I'm sorry, too.” She paused. “Hey, if you're not doing anything, why don't you come to our picnic—I'm sure there will be more than enough food.”

Josiah shook his head. “Thank you, but I don't want you to invite me just because you feel sorry for me.”

“That's not why I'm inviting you,” Sailor said. “I'm inviting you because I
want
you to come. I know I said I'm not ready to jump into another relationship, but that doesn't mean we can't be friends.”

Josiah hesitated and looked down at his six-pack.

“Just come,” she pressed. “I'm going there right now and you can follow me, or you can leave your car here and ride with me. It's not far.”

Josiah pressed his lips together, considering. “I don't have anything to bring.”

“You're bringing beer.”

“Are you sure?”

“I'm positive.”

Josiah smiled and finally relented. “Okay.”

“Great!” Sailor said, beaming. “It'll be fun! My sisters have been asking to meet you.” She paused and looked at him again. “Maybe I should warn you about my sisters first. . . .”

He laughed. “I already met one of them.”

Sailor frowned. “When?”

“When you first bought the cottage, I dropped off some Munchkins and sunflowers, and she was there . . . Piper, I think.”

“Oh, right! I forgot. Well, there you go! I'm sure she'll love seeing you again.”