Family Reunion Nancy Thayer (summer reads .txt) 📖

scar on her face, I don’t know what caused it, but she’s embarrassed by it. When she sits in a group for a story or something, she puts her hand over it. They’re all good sports, and they eat up personal attention.”

“I’m glad you’re happy there.”

Ari frowned. “You know, one thing that bothers me so much is that all the other camps have tees with the camp name on it. Like Camp Nantucket. I wish we could have tees saying Beach Camp or something, to make them feel more like a group, and to make some of them feel less sensitive about their clothes. I mean, it is a camp, so they don’t have to dress up, and it’s smart to have children in old, stained clothes, but…”

“You can’t change the world,” Eleanor softly reminded her. A napkin fluttered off the table. “The wind is picking up. I’d better go off for my walk now. Leave the dishes for me, Ari.”

“Don’t be silly. It will take a minute. What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“I’m meeting Sylvia in town for an early dinner and a movie at the Dreamland.” Eleanor carried her plate and mug and silverware into the kitchen.

Ari followed. “What movie?”

“One of those aristocratic British things. I can’t remember the title. I’ll let you know if it’s any good.”

Eleanor went off to her room to put on her walking shoes. She kissed Ari on her cheek before she left. Ari dealt with the dishes. She went to her room to collect her laundry, but instead lay down on her bed and allowed herself to close her eyes. Spending five days with children was exhausting. Besides, she was going to a party this evening, and she wanted to enjoy it. She immediately fell asleep.

—

Michelle Hathaway’s family’s new summer house was an enormous trophy house out in Dionis. The unpaved driveway was long and winding, and when Ari arrived at the circle drive, valets were there to park her car on the grassy lawn with dozens of other cars. As she entered the open front door, a waiter held out a silver tray with glasses of champagne and directed Ari toward the stairs to the second floor. This was an upside-down house, popular on the island, with the bedrooms on the first floor and the living room on the second, higher floor, with views of Nantucket Sound.

The party was crowded near the high, wide windows and out onto the long balcony. Women in tropical prints and men in blazers gazed out at the water as they chatted. Ari strolled in that direction, pausing to admire the art on the walls. From another room, she heard music, and without thinking, she turned and walked into that room.

A young girl was seated at a baby grand piano. She wore a pale blue dress with ruffles on the hem, and her dark hair was gathered in a braid down her back and tied neatly with a blue ribbon.

Ari settled on a sofa behind the girl, wanting not to disturb her, and listened.

When the girl lifted her hands from the piano keys and sat still, Ari clapped.

“Für Elise,” Ari said. “Such a beautiful melody, and you played it so beautifully.”

The girl swiveled around to face Ari. She had a winsome, clever face. She was probably eleven or twelve years old. “I should have played it beautifully after all the damn lessons they made me take.” She stood up, walked to the sofa, and held out her hand. “Henrietta Hathaway. Hen for short. Why aren’t you out there with the others?”

Amused, Ari said, “I heard your playing and was enchanted. I’m Ari, by the way, a friend of your sister’s.”

Hen’s face brightened. “I know a secret about Michelle. She has a special drawer in her bathroom with thirty-two different shades of lipstick. I’ve counted.”

Ari had learned from college friends how younger sisters were fascinated with their older sisters. She smoothly sidetracked. “How many lipsticks do you have?”

Hen laughed. “Me? I’m eleven. I’m not allowed lipstick. But I do have my ears pierced.” Hen cupped her ears with her hands and leaned toward Ari.

“What lovely pearls, Hen!”

“I know. Beck gave them to me for my birthday. Beck is my brother. He loves me more than anybody else.”

“What a lucky girl you are. I don’t have a brother or sister.”

“It’s just you?” Hen looked horrified.

“Just me.”

“Oh, that’s sad.”

“I know, but it’s all right. I have a grandmother who lives here, and this is a secret, but she likes me best.”

Hen nodded her head decisively. “Good. Everyone needs someone who likes them best.”

In a cloud of fragrance, Michelle floated into the room. She wore a violet slip dress and had her hair piled on top of her head. “Ari! Sweetie! I thought I saw you come in. Why are you in here?”

“I heard such beautiful music, I had to come in,” Ari said. “Hen is quite talented.”

“Hen is a child who has been told to stay downstairs,” Michelle said. When Hen began to protest, Michelle approached her and put an arm around her. Very softly, Michelle said, “I know. Hen is a fascinating person. But the last time we had a grown-up party, she drank some of the cocktails and became violently ill. She vomited right in the middle of a crowd—”

Red-faced, Hen jumped up and fled the room.

“I’m sorry, Ari,” Michelle apologized. “I didn’t want to embarrass her, but she was so sick that night. Mom and Dad had given Hen her favorite dinner and let her stream a new kid’s movie in her room. But she slipped out and took sips of all the ‘pretty drinks’ and had alcohol poisoning. She could have died.”

Ari said, “Frightening.”

“Yes. But I’ll keep a watch for her tonight. Now let’s join the party.”

People were still on the balcony, talking in groups. Michelle slid through the crowd, tugging Ari along with her to stand at the front, arms on the railing, gazing out at the view.

“This is