An Invincible Summer (Wyndham Beach) Mariah Stewart (best classic books to read TXT) 📖

sent Sarah for her birthday. Maggie’d been so jealous. What had her grandmother sent her? A doll. Granted, it was a Madame Alexander doll, but it was a doll all the same. As if Maggie were still a child and played with dolls. Then five weeks later, Sarah’s birthday gift had arrived: a cashmere sweater in the most glorious shade of pale blue. Sarah was only three years older than Maggie. It wasn’t fair that she got something so grown-up and Maggie got a little girl’s toy.

Maggie had wanted only to try on the sweater, but Sarah had come home early from the library. She’d thrown an absolute fit when she walked into her room and found her little sister with the beautiful sweater pulled over her head. She’d screamed at Maggie, wrenched the sweater away, and bodily thrown Maggie out of her room. She’d landed in the hallway, her pride and her feelings more injured than her butt. Sarah had returned the sweater to the box, put the box on the top shelf of her closet, slammed her bedroom door, and stomped down the stairs, yelling, “Stay out of my room! Don’t you ever touch any of my things again!” She’d run out the front door, jumped on her bike, and taken off, pedaling furiously.

Maggie never saw her alive again. Sarah, highly allergic to insect stings, had taken a shortcut through a field on her way to her best friend’s house, no doubt to complain about what a pain in the ass her little sister was. She’d ridden her bike directly over a yellow jackets’ nest, sending several of the small wasps after her. When their father found her lying in the field after she’d failed to come home that night, Sarah had eleven stings on the backs of her legs. Any one of the stings could have killed her.

Maggie had never gotten over the guilt for the part she’d played in her sister’s death.

“Drive.” Maggie pointed to the shift.

Liddy put the car into reverse but didn’t drop the subject. “You were a kid, acting like a kid. It wasn’t your fault.”

Turning her face to the window, Maggie said, “It doesn’t matter now. Just drive. We’re going to be late. Emma’s going to be pacing the front porch.”

They drove without speaking until Liddy made the turn onto Emma’s street.

Liddy pulled into Emma’s driveway. “And there she is, as predicted. Waiting on the porch.”

A moment later, Emma opened the rear passenger door and got in. “You’re late. Were you having a cocktail party without me?”

“We had one little glass of wine and a couple of cheese straws. Hardly a party.” Liddy backed out of the driveway.

“Candy Shultz has called twice wondering where we were and what we were doing. She said she was saving us seats at her table for dinner,” Emma told them, eliciting groans from both Liddy and Maggie. “That was pretty much my reaction as well, and I figured you two wouldn’t want to sit with her, either, but how do you tell someone you don’t like their company?”

“We can live with it for one dinner,” Liddy said. “Then we hit the bar.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Maggie turned in her seat to face Emma, who, as always, was meticulously outfitted. Tonight she wore a navy-blue dress with a wide skirt and a pretty belt, and black kitten heels. Pearl studs in her ears, opera-length pearls around her neck, and a wide gold band circling her wrist. Understated makeup and hair. Perfectly Emma, and Maggie said so. “You’re always so put together.”

“And you always look so cool, so beautiful,” Emma countered. “And Liddy, you always look so . . . wait, are you wearing a black dress? Black, Liddy?” They’d driven into the parking lot at the Harbor Inn, and Liddy was preparing to turn over her car to the valet. Emma released her seat belt and leaned over the front-seat console and stared. “Liddy, you’re wearing a black dress. No purple. No red. No miles of colorful beads. Where’s the rainbow?”

The three women got out of the car and convened behind it before heading toward the entrance of the restaurant.

“And your hair. It’s so . . . neat.” Emma hadn’t quite finished her commentary.

“It’s our forty-year reunion. I was thinking tonight was a good time to put the tie-dyes and the gypsy skirts and the love beads away. I wanted to look like an adult tonight, to show a new side of me. So tonight I’m Lydia. We’re leaving Liddy home with her mom’s old Bob Dylan and Joan Baez albums.” Liddy stopped and turned to Emma. “Tell me what you really think. About the way I look.”

Emma took in the sight of Liddy standing with her hands on her hips, wearing a dress that was just tight enough to show off her voluptuous curves.

“I think you look fabulous.”

“Thank you. Maggie agrees. And so do I.” Liddy linked arms with Maggie and Emma, and together the three old friends joined the reunion.

“But I hope Liddy hasn’t been put on the shelf permanently.” Maggie paused in the doorway. “She’s so much fun.”

“Of course she is.” Liddy grinned. “You know you can’t keep a good woman down.”

The room was festooned with balloons and flowers and reminded Maggie way too much of their senior prom.

“Gah.” She tapped Liddy on the arm. “This looks like prom night.”

“It’s supposed to. Shelly Jaffe’s idea, and since she was in charge of decorating, it was her call.” Liddy looked around. “You have to admit, she’s got a good memory.”

“Almost too good,” Emma agreed. “Lest we forget our glory days, I suppose.”

As if Maggie could forget. She and Brett had been crowned king and queen. She’d worn a gorgeous pale-blue strapless gown she’d begged her mother to buy when they’d gone into Boston to shop for something special. The look on Brett’s face when he’d seen her coming down the stairway in her family home had been pure lust tempered by the freshness of first love. The