The Summer's End (36 page)

Harper looked into his eyes and thought how no one had ever told her this before. Someone had always wanted something from her. Her wealth, her connections. This man wanted nothing except her.

He took her hand and she held her breath. “Harper Muir-James from New York, I offer you everything I have or will ever have. I offer you everything I am and will ever be. Will you marry me?”

They'd only known each other a little while. Already they were committing to marriage? It was crazy, illogical, irrational. Harper still had to get a job. She had nothing to fall back on if times got tough. And they would.

And yet . . . she couldn't shake the certain knowledge that Taylor was the one for her. That what she felt for him was real.

Harper's answer came not from her head, where she usually took time to carefully consider and research her thoughts and decisions. This time, her answer came straight from her heart.

“Yes, Taylor McClellan from McClellanville, I will marry you.”

The following morning Harper and Taylor said a drawn-out good-bye, foreheads pressed together as they soaked up the early-morning light, and she drove back to Sea Breeze feeling as if she were floating on a cloud of joy. She was a different person driving south on this long stretch of road than she had been driving north the day before. Crossing the Isle of Palms connector, she was soaring over the vast wetlands headed straight for the sea. At its peak she glimpsed the vast Atlantic Ocean, sparkling blue in the radiant sun, and to her right the wide swath of the magnificent Intracoastal Waterway. Harper laughed out loud for the joy of it and opened her window wide to let the last warm breezes of summer blow in. Fall was coming. Already the tips of the grasses were golden, hinting at the change of seasons.

Change.
The word gave her pause.

What changes she'd experienced in the past summer season! She'd arrived here in late May when the grasses were greening, that lovely spring color waving in a soft breeze. In so many ways she'd been as naive and green as the grass itself, sprouting up unawares. Over the summer she'd grown like the sea grass, tougher, rounded. Now, with the approach of summer's end and the beginning of fall, she felt ripe with love, ready to burst forth with color.

She passed the road where, if she turned and drove the three blocks toward the water, she'd arrive at what would soon be Dora's new home. Harper chuckled. Now
there
was a story of change. Dora had found not only herself this summer, but a life and a love she deserved.

Harper's
gaze landed on her cell phone, maddeningly silent from its perch on her dashboard. She let out a little sigh despite all of the happy feelings roiling inside her. She had tried calling Georgiana several times first thing this morning, convinced that a mother's excitement over her daughter's engagement—even an impromptu one—would override their earlier clash. But her mother hadn't picked up the calls. Harper had finally dashed off an e-mail with the news, but still her phone didn't ring.

Harper wound her way off Middle Street to the road that led to Sea Breeze. She passed the tall hedge of green and entered the familiar circular drive. She felt as she often did when she faced the raised house with the gabled roof sitting in the shade of the giant oak: that Sea Breeze was waiting for her, arms open in welcome.

Her news was bursting at her lips. She hurried up the stairs and pushed open the front door. “Hello!” she shouted. She dropped her purse on the front-hall table. The painting of the
Miss Jenny
on the wall caught her eye and she smiled again. “Hello!” she called, entering the kitchen. “Where is everyone!”

Carson burst into the kitchen from the porch. She was wearing a skimpy bikini and her damp hair was slicked back in a loose braid. “You're back!” She looked over her shoulder to be sure no one was behind her. Then she ran to Harper, eyes blazing, and engulfed her in a bear hug. “It was wonderful! I couldn't put it down.”

Harper's breath was taken away. “My book? Really?”

“Loved, loved, loved it. Especially the part—”

Dora came in behind Carson in a sleek, black one-piece suit. They looked as if they'd been in the pool. She looked at Harper with a mother's stern gaze. “You didn't come home last night.”

“I've got some news!”
Harper blurted out. Unable to hold in her announcement a second longer, she shouted, “I'm engaged!”

After a second's stunned silence, Dora and Carson squealed in unison. In a rush the three sisters were hugging and jumping up and down with more squeals.

Mamaw walked into the room. Never one to be left out, she asked imperiously, “What in heaven's name is going on?”

Harper broke off from her sisters to run to Mamaw and envelop her in a hug. “I'm engaged!”

Mamaw was taken aback. The woman rarely sputtered. “Engaged? To Taylor?”

“Of course to Taylor.” Harper laughed. “Oh, Mamaw, is it even possible to be so happy?”

“Sweet child, I'm so delighted for you.” Flustered, Mamaw pointedly looked at Harper's left hand.

Harper caught the gesture and grasped her ringless hand in the other. “I don't have a ring.” She put on a brave smile. “The proposal caught us both by surprise. I couldn't care less if he ever gives me one. I love him and he loves me and that's all that matters.”

“True.” Mamaw's voice wavered and she took Harper's hands in hers and squeezed gently. “You've only known him for a short while. Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Harper replied with conviction. “We both know it's been quick, but sometimes you just know. Mamaw, he loves me for me. Just me. I've waited to hear those words my whole life. He's the one, Mamaw.”

“Then he deserves you, my child,” Mamaw said with feeling.

Harper basked in the glow of her grandmother's approval.

“A wedding!” Dora exclaimed. “At last!
Have you set a date?”

“Oh, God, no. We didn't talk about that yet.”

“You have to set a date,” Dora told her urgently. “Charleston is a popular destination-wedding location now. Venues are booked way in advance. We'll have to start looking immediately.”

“Hold your horses, Vera Wang,” Carson chided Dora. “She just got engaged. Let the poor girl celebrate at least a day before we strap her to the wedding harness.”

“I don't even know if I'm having a formal wedding,” Harper said. “All that's a ways off.”

“Of course you'll have a wedding,” Mamaw declared.

“My mother won't come. And she certainly won't pay for a wedding.”

“Why wouldn't she? You're her only daughter,” Mamaw said.

“We had a terrible row. I tried to call her several times this morning. It went to voice mail each time. I followed up with an e-mail, but she still hasn't called me back.” Harper shrugged. “I don't expect she will. My mother has the ability to slam an iron door down around herself, cutting a person out. It's a power move. I've seen her do this many times not to recognize it when it happens.”

“That's cold,” Carson said. “Give her time. I mean, her only child is engaged.”

“We don't need Georgiana James to have a wedding,” Mamaw said haughtily. “But we're getting ahead of ourselves. First, I must throw you a small dinner party to celebrate your engagement. It is time we met Taylor's parents.”

“We need a good party at Sea Breeze,” Dora said. “It might be the last party we have here. So let's do it proper.”

In a rush of enthusiasm the women began spouting out ideas for the party, one after the other. As the mood shot skyward, their discussion was interrupted by the sound of the front doorbell.

“I'll get it. That must be Blake. Don't look at me like that,” Carson warned her sisters, rolling her eyes. “He's just coming by to report on Delphine.” She turned and hurried away to answer the door. A few moments later she returned carrying a piece of yellow paper with a bemused expression. “Harper, you got a telegram. I didn't even know people still sent telegrams.”

Harper couldn't imagine who would send a telegram these days instead of an e-mail. She hurried to take the telegram, and with Carson looking over her shoulder ripped open the envelope.

Harper had to read the telegram twice, and it still didn't make sense.

“Who is it from?” Carson sidled closer.

“My grandmother in England. Granny James.”

“Her?” Mamaw came near. “Whatever does she have to say that merits a telegram?”

Harper lifted the piece of paper and read it aloud: “ ‘Arriving Charleston Wednesday four p.m. Stop. Please collect me. Stop.' ”

There was a moment's stunned silence.

Mamaw stood straight, her hands folded in front of her, her brows knitted in thought.

Dora spoke first. “Wednesday . . . as in the day after tomorrow?”

“I assume,” Harper replied.

Dora tilted her head and made a face as if she had a bug in her ear. “You mean your grandmother is showing up here, all the way from England, just like that? Without calling you first?”

“Where is she staying?” Carson wanted to know.

“In a hotel, I suppose,” Harper said.

“Absolutely not!” At the sound of Mamaw's voice the three young women swung their heads toward her. Her voice was stern with authority. “Harper, if your grandmother is flying all the way from Europe for a visit, she is most welcome to stay here at Sea Breeze. To do otherwise wouldn't be hospitable. Even,” she said archly, “if she has the bad manners to show up on our doorstep uninvited.”

Harper felt the sting of the insult and felt she had to defend her other grandmother. Granny James was nothing like Georgiana and was one of the only people in Harper's lonely childhood who'd made her feel loved. “I'm sure she didn't mean to impose. That wouldn't be like Granny James at all. She'll have already made reservations somewhere.” Harper stared at the telegram in her hand. “Still, it's so unlike her. I can't imagine why she is coming like this, in such a rush, and without so much as a phone call.”

“Can you not?” Mamaw asked.

“She's about as subtle as a Mack truck,” said Dora. “Your granny's coming to check out your young man.”

“But I only just got engaged. How would she know?” As soon as the words were out, Harper knew the answer. She looked into Mamaw's knowing glance. Georgiana would have called her mother in a great show of hysterics after listening to Harper's voice mail, no doubt telling her all sorts of horrible stories of Harper's
downfall. She could only imagine the colorful adjectives used.

“Mummy . . .”

“Quite so,” Mamaw said succinctly. “This has Georgiana's name written all over it.”

“She must've painted a pretty horrid picture to get Granny James to hop a plane and come rushing to see me. She's nearly eighty, after all.”

Mamaw sniffed. “That hardly makes her a dinosaur.”

“That's not what I meant,” Harper hastened to reply. “But she broke her leg last spring. She'd only act like this in an emergency.”

“Naturally your grandmother would see your throwing away your fortune to rush off and get married to someone you hardly know as an emergency,” Mamaw confirmed.

Dora snickered. “Well, when you put it like that . . .”

“You're right.” Mamaw smiled wryly. “When you put it like that, I find your grandmother's actions admirable. She had to see the situation for herself. She wouldn't want you forewarned, either, for fear you might run off.” Mamaw paused, then added begrudgingly, “I would do the same myself.”

Harper felt a well of emotion for both her grandmothers. “She
is
rather like you, strong, refined, educated.” Harper grinned. “Opinionated.”

“This ought to be good,” Carson said. “The dueling grandmas.”

Dora giggled and began humming the tune “Dueling Banjos.”

“Enough of this lollygagging.” Mamaw crisply clapped her hands. “If we have a guest arriving in a little over forty-eight hours and a dinner party to plan, we have more work to do than I can shake a stick at.”

“Where will we put her?” asked Dora.

“I could give her my room,” Harper suggested.

“Heavens, no,” Mamaw said. “I won't feel comfortable sharing a bathroom with someone I've never met.”

“Do you want one of us to give up a room?” Dora asked. “Anyone but Nate, of course,” she added hastily. “We all remember how easy it is to move him.”

“There's no need for anyone to give up a room. The cottage should do nicely. It's freshly painted and Mrs. James will be much more comfortable with a space of her own.”

“Mamaw, it's virtually empty,” said Carson. “All that's in there is the iron bed and the desk. We've given everything else away to charity.”

“Not everything,” Dora said. “The hooked rugs are just out being cleaned. They're due back tomorrow.”