Summer Beach Reads 5-Book Bundle: Beachcombers, Heat Wave, Moon Shell Beach, Summer House, Summer Breeze (158 page)

“Nona!” Worth cried. “What’s going on?”

“Exactly what you see, dear. I’m having those hedges taken down. I’ve wanted to do it all my life. I have no idea why I’ve waited so long. It’s going to be awfully noisy here for a few days. Once they get all the branches down, they’ve got to dig out the stumps. And then, then, my dear, we’ll plant a real garden, full of dahlias and cornflowers and roses.”

She held up an ancient pair of mink earmuffs to Helen. “Want some?”

Helen took them and settled them on her head. The day was hot, and fur on the head was not the wisest choice, but the earmuffs did soften the noise considerably.

Nona yelled, “What do you think?”

“I think it’s fabulous!” Helen yelled back. “Look at all the sunshine!”

“I’m thinking about all the flowers we can plant now,” Nona said. “I want to talk to Charlotte about this. She’ll know what sorts of things grow well in full sun.”

Worth yelled, “Where’s Grace?”

“Oh, Grace has gone off in a flap. She’s afraid I’ve gone nuts. Perhaps you can calm her down.”

Helen exchanged a look with her husband. “I’m not sure Worth is up for any more family responsibility these days.”

“That’s all right,” Nona said. “
You
are. Oh, look.” She pointed. “That tree is about to go.”

The air shuddered with the noise of the chain saw as a small privet tree, freed of its lower branches, was cut down. It toppled slowly to one side, letting the sunlight illuminate another rectangular portion of Nona’s land.

Charlotte slipped into her shed, where the noise of the saws was slightly diminished, and started to punch Whit’s number into her cell phone.

She hesitated. Was this the right thing to do? Was she just grasping at any excuse to see him again? She would see him tonight. Couldn’t she wait?
Shouldn’t
she wait?

She hadn’t slept well that night—but it had been a happy insomnia, filled with sensations and desire and a kind of terrified hope. This morning it had felt good to rise early and stalk out to her garden, to pick and wash vegetables and set them on her farm table.

Then the tree service arrived with their chain saws and trucks and chippers, and her concentration was destroyed.

She’d raced up to the house to see what was happening. Nona was sitting just inside the French doors, watching the work and looking absolutely beatific. Grace fluttered around wringing her hands and fretting while Mandy shadowed Christian, who was fascinated
by the workers and their tools. To escape from the noise, Suzette carried her baby down to the little beach where Glorious had set up some chairs, and after a while pregnant Mellie joined her, with Mandy’s daughter Zoe in her arms. Grace drove Teddy to work and returned home to phone Kellogg in Boston, begging him to come home and help her—she was afraid Nona had lost her mind.

Charlotte returned to her garden, but now in the dazzling sunlight her thoughts flew around her head like brilliant butterflies. Nona was taking the hedges down! It was amazing.

Actually, it was
monumental.

And she wanted to share it with Whit.

She punched in the final number. The phone rang. Whit said, “Hello?”

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said, “but could you help me survive one more family event?”

Whit came immediately. He parked on the side of the drive and met Charlotte just outside her shed.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Come see.” Taking his hand, Charlotte led him up the drive.

The air was filled with the buzz and shriek of machinery, and sawdust filled the air as branches and limbs fell to the ground.

Whit shouted something at Charlotte, but she shook her head and pointed to her ears. “Follow me!” she yelled. “My room’s at the back of the house, so we’ll be able to hear ourselves speak.”

She took him in through the living room where Nona and Glorious sat, wearing earmuffs, watching the hedge fall. They all waved hello. Charlotte drew Whit up two flights of stairs to the attic. She pulled him into her room and shut the door. It was probably twenty degrees hotter here than on the ground floor, but a fresh breeze swept off from the ocean into the small gabled chamber.

There was only one chair in the room and it was covered with
clothes. She gestured to Whit to sit on the bed while she paced the floor.

“Whit, what do you think?”

“Nona looks like she’s having the time of her life,” Whit said.

“Yes. Why, yes, you’re right, Whit. Oh, I’m glad you’re here. Nona does look happy, doesn’t she? I mean, I don’t need to worry about her, do I? But Whit, taking down the hedge is such a stupendous event! It’s been there for at least two generations! Shouldn’t Nona have discussed it with us? Or, at the very least, had some kind of family ceremony, maybe with champagne? This is all so casual! So weird!”

Whit thought about it. “Well, it seems to me that Nona’s at the age where she doesn’t have control of much. Her body’s giving out, and her family continues to change. This is something she can control. She probably likes making one huge event happen.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right. But I still feel restless. Unsettled.”

Whit asked, “Because of the hedge?”

Charlotte turned from the window. For a moment, she pushed back all her fears and concerns and allowed herself to just
look
at him. She’d always known he was handsome, and that had irritated her, and now she had to admit that what she’d designated as irritation was really an intense physical connection that scared her half to death. But she was also oddly calmed by his presence. She liked it that now, in the midst of all the chaos in her house, he had focused on the personal, the immediate, the physical.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Maybe it’s not the hedge. Maybe it’s my life.”

He didn’t speak but looked at her steadily in a way that made her legs go weak.

“Maybe it’s you,” she said quietly.

“That would be good.”

Charlotte sat down on her bed, next to Whit but not touching. Looking at her hands, she said, “I never wanted to be attracted to you, Whit, and I guess I’ve figured out it was because it would have been what my father wanted me to do.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“But now I’m thinking, Well, that’s not such a bad thing. Making my father happy.”

“It
would
be a bad thing if you married me only because it would make your father happy,” Whit said.

Charlotte blinked and looked up at him. “How did we get to the subject of marriage?”

Whit said, “When has the subject ever been anything else?”

“Well!” Charlotte hugged herself nervously. “Well, Whit. I mean, we don’t even know if we’re compatible.”

“Yeah, we do know,” Whit assured her. “We’re compatible. Think of yesterday. Talking. Just being together.”

It felt like her lips were freezing. And her fingertips. “But maybe we’re not compatible … sexually?” She could hardly get out the final word.

Whit said quietly, “We’ll just have to research the question, won’t we?”

“Will we?” She couldn’t breathe.

He took her face in both his hands and tilted it toward his. He put his mouth on hers, gently, his lips open, and she could feel the warmth and stirring of his breath. She put her hands on his chest. Beneath his shirt, his heart was racing, and this gave her courage. It meant as much to him, then, as it did to her. He was not faking it, trying to please his father by joining the two families. Right now he wanted her, and everything about him assured her that his desire was real and urgent.

Together they lay down on the bed, pressing their bodies together. She put her hands on his shoulders, on his back, and slid her hands down inside his shorts. He drew a sharp breath.

“Perhaps we should wait,” Whit said.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t,” Charlotte answered, attempting to sound light but really sounding almost desperate as she unzipped her shorts and wrestled her body out of them.

Whit hooked his thumbs in his shorts and yanked them and his boxer shorts off. He moved above Charlotte, bearing his weight on
his elbows, his legs pressed against her legs, his long penis resting against her belly and thighs.

“I don’t have any condoms,” he whispered.

Charlotte smiled. “That’s okay,” she told him. “My mother wants lots of grandchildren.”

Whit smiled back. “So does mine.”

Nona awoke with a start. She’d been dreaming she was in a hot-air balloon, drifting above the island, gazing down at her family and the house and the serene blue water.

But something had changed. Looking around, she saw the terrace, littered with leaves. Light flooded down on the slates outside the house, brightening the living room as never before. It was late afternoon.

One of the landscapers, a rugged tall man with burnt cinnamon skin, came to the French door, opened it, and leaned in. His entire body was plastered with small privet leaves.

“Mrs. Wheelwright?” he said. “We couldn’t get it all done today. We’ll be back tomorrow morning about seven. Should be able to finish it then.”

“That’s wonderful, Carl.” Nona raised her hand in a kind of wave. “Thank you.” She lifted the earmuffs off her head, flinching as they got caught in her hair.

Helen came into the room. “Nona. you’re awake.”

“Hello, dear. Where is everyone?”

“Let’s see. Grace and her crew have gone off to the yacht club for dinner.”

“I didn’t know they were planning that.” Nona shoved and wrestled her body around, trying to organize herself into a standing position. “Would you mind helping me to the bathroom?”

Helen came to her side and let Nona lean on her as they slowly shuffled along. “I don’t think they planned to go out, but Grace felt she needed a change of scenery.”

“Grace will be okay once the hedges are all down and we can put in new plantings,” Nona said. “Where’s Charlotte?”

“Charlotte and Whit are down on the beach. Charlotte and Whit have set up a casual picnic dinner there.”

Nona stopped still. She peered at Helen. “Charlotte and Whit, did you say?”

Helen smiled. “Charlotte and Whit.”

“Let’s not get our hopes up,” Nona advised.

“Wait until you see them together,” Helen answered smugly.

Nona shuffled into the bathroom, used the toilet, and washed her hands. Looking in the mirror, she saw that her hair had come out of the chignon and flew about her head in wisps. She tried to pat it back in place, then made a face at herself—funny old self, she could not believe she was so old!—and went back out into the hall where Helen was waiting.

“Has Glorious left?” she asked Helen.

“She has. Big date night for her.”

“And the others?”

“Suzette’s at the beach and Dawn is sleeping in a little wicker basket, like a baby from a fairy tale.”

“And Worth?”

“He’s down there, too. He carried Dawn down, in fact.”

Nona looked at Helen. “He did?”

Helen smiled. “He did.”

“Where’s Teddy?”

“He’s catching a ride home with a friend. He’ll be here any time. He knows we’re down at the beach.”

“Well, then, let’s go.”

Nona surrendered some of her pride and allowed herself to lean heavily on her daughter-in-law as they progressed through the house, out the doors, and onto the lawn.

The heat of the day had diminished, and the air was clear and sweet. The groomed lawn was soft beneath Nona’s feet, and birds called and flew among the trees that bordered the land.

“I’d almost forgotten how lovely it is out here,” Nona said.

Helen kept a firm arm around Nona’s waist and held Nona’s hand with her own. They arrived at the strip of sand shaped by the wind into low dunes. Tall narrow blades of beach grass grew in the dunes, and wild roses twined everywhere in lush profusion. The perfume was heavenly.

“Stop a moment,” Nona told Helen. “Let me just breathe.”

Helen waited, staring out at the water, until Nona said, “All right, dear. I’d better sit down.”

It was only a few more feet, and then they were on the beach.

Charlotte and Whit were at the water’s edge, squatting in the sand, whispering and laughing softly as they compared shells. Suzette was ensconced in one of the new clever canvas chairs that had arms with a cup holder and a little platform where she could rest her legs.

Worth sat in a beach chair, holding Dawn, wrapped in several light blankets, in his arms.

“My, it looks like a party,” Nona said, as she sank gratefully into a beach chair.

“It
is
a party,” Suzette agreed. “Look at all the food Glorious made.”

Nona accepted a glass of wine and a plate of cheese and crackers and sliced vegetables from Helen, who poured herself a glass of wine and sat cross-legged next to Worth’s chair. Nona sipped the wine and felt remarkably content with life.

“Look at the water,” Helen said. “It’s as still as glass.”

They all gazed out at the harbor. A few sailboats drifted idly in the distance, and a kayak sliced a white trail.

“The silence is lovely,” Helen said.

“Yeah,” Suzette agreed. “What a lot of noise those saws made. But Dawn just slept through it all.”