Family Reunion Nancy Thayer (summer reads .txt) 📖

a young woman who was absolutely not her mother. The young woman was driving, and her father said something that made them both laugh as they drove away.

Of course it couldn’t be her father.

Ari leaned against her car and stared as the couple disappeared around the corner.

She must have been dazzled by the sun. It must have been a man who looked like her father.

Still, she took up her phone and called her house in Wellesley.

“Hello?” Her mother always answered as if she never knew who was calling. Ari thought her mother considered caller ID vulgar and never checked before she answered.

“Hi, Mom, just calling to say hello.”

“Did you go sailing with Beck Hathaway today?”

“Yes, and we’re going again next weekend.” Ari could imagine the smile on her mother’s face. Her good deed for the day. She kept chatting for a few minutes before asking, “Is Dad there?”

“No, sorry, darling. He got called in to the hospital early this morning for an emergency surgery. Something complicated, I can’t remember. Don’t worry, I’ll tell him everything tonight when he comes home.”

“Okay, then,” Ari said, sounding too hearty for her own ears. “We’ll talk later.”

Ari got into her car, strapped on her seatbelt, and sat there, trying to think logically. That might have been a man who only looked like her father. Her father was as likely to have an affair with a young woman as he was to grow wings and fly. So, she had been wrong. That had not been her father.

Or, her father flew in to do emergency surgery at the Nantucket Cottage Hospital and the young woman was a nurse? Not likely, in those clothes. Plus, Ari’s mother hadn’t said he’d been called in to the Nantucket hospital. That might make sense if he were on island and listed as a summer emergency surgeon, but although her father had signed up when he was younger, in the past few years he’d decided they needed other younger physicians, and he’d wanted a vacation.

She drove back to her grandmother’s house, chewing on her lip, unable to stop worrying. She could mention it to Eleanor, but Eleanor would laugh. Or worry—and Ari didn’t want to make her grandmother worry. She decided not to mention it.

“Hello!” Ari called as she entered the house.

“Did you have a good day?” Eleanor was in the kitchen putting cheese and crackers on a plate. She handed a glass of sparkling wine to Ari.

“I had a great day!” Ari said. “How was yours?”

Eleanor said mysteriously, “Let me show you,” and she left the table.

When she returned, she had a pile of T-shirts in her hand. They were all white, with the words BEACH CAMP printed on them in red.

“These are wonderful,” Ari exclaimed, holding a tee up to look at it. “Where on earth did you get them?”

“I made them,” Eleanor said.

“Get out of town.”

“It’s true. I made them today. Very easily, actually. Of course, I bought the tees. Three different sizes. Fifteen tees. The writing is done in non-toxic permanent marker that won’t bleed in the wash.”

“You certainly have a steady hand,” Ari marveled. “No slipup anywhere. They look store-bought.”

Eleanor laughed. “That reminds me of something my own grandmother said. We gave her a bouquet of hothouse roses for her birthday, and she said they looked pretty enough to be artificial.”

Ari laughed with her grandmother. “I can’t wait to give these out tomorrow.”

—

Monday morning, Ari rose early, double-checked the weather—it was a gorgeous day—pulled on her shorts and tee, put her hair in a ponytail, and quietly went down the stairs to the kitchen. She chomped down a banana while the Keurig made her coffee, poured the coffee into her go-cup, scooped up the tote bag holding the tees, and headed out the door. In her car, she quickly dabbed sunblock on her face, slipped on her new, inexpensive sunglasses, and hit the volume to high on her radio.

She was excited about the tees for the Beach Camp kids. Eleanor had made five each of small, medium, and large. They might be too big for a couple of the younger campers, but over the summer, the children would probably grow into them.

The kids were already on the beach. When they noticed Ari, some of them came racing toward her, waving their arms and screaming. Ari intended on showing Cal the shirts before morning circle, but Cal and Sandy were already shooing the children into place. Ari joined them on the sand, settling the tote bag next to her, and waited while they went through their daily ritual.

Just before the circle disbanded, Ari raised her hand. “Do any of you have grandmothers who love you so much?”

The children yelled and clapped.

“Well, my grandmother loves to sew. She is sew loco!” Ari joked as she reached into the tote bag and took out one tee. She held it high so everyone could see the words: BEACH CAMP.

“I want one!” a kid called, and started to his feet.

“You can all have one,” Ari told them. “Line up according to height, and I’ll hand them out.”

Several minutes of chaos ensued before Ari and Cal got the kids into line. She saw that some children would explode if they had to wait more than a second, so she handed the pile of large shirts to Cal and the mediums to Sandy, and Ari started with the smalls. Old shirts flew to the ground as the kids pulled the new tees on over their heads. The little ones puffed out their chests and strutted, gazing proudly down at the letters. The older ones smoothed the material carefully over their chests. One little girl, Sarita, sat in the sand, motionless, staring at the tee in her hands.

Ari knelt down next to Sarita. “I think your shirt will fit you.”

Sarita nodded, almost sadly. “But if I swim, will the letters go away?”

“No, no. They are permanent.” Ari stood and announced to the crowd that water would not fade the letters.

Immediately the children ran