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He’s brought him to Carl’s several times.”

“That makes me so sad. I remember Mr. Lattimore always being in the store in the summers when Mom and I would take the girls for story hour. What a shame.” She brushed the dirt from off the back of her shorts and motioned for Liddy to follow her to the deck. “Hold that thought. I’m going to run in and get some drinks. Stay right there.”

She dashed into the kitchen, grabbed two glasses and a pitcher of ice tea, and took it all outside. Liddy held the door for her, and they sat at the round black iron glass-topped table Maggie had brought with her from her Bryn Mawr house.

“Talk,” Maggie said as she poured tea. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking I should be doing something with my life besides feeling sorry for myself. I’ve always loved that store. I used to take Jessie there every week to pick out a book. I spend so much time in that place I might as well buy it.” With a forefinger, Liddy traced the condensed drips of water that ran down the side of the glass. “I want to do something useful. And I don’t want Wyndham Beach to be without a bookstore. It’s too important for the town.”

“Can’t argue with that. You’d be a great bookseller. You know books, that’s for sure. Yes, I could see you owning that store, Lids.”

“Thanks. I told Carl to call me after he decides how much they want for it. They own the building, but he’s not sure he wants to sell it. Maybe just rent the space. He’s going to talk to their lawyer and get back to me.”

“Well, if it wasn’t so hot, I’d suggest we toast this bit of news with wine, but I know I’d fall flat on my face after just one glass.” She raised her ice tea and tilted it in Liddy’s direction. “So let’s drink to this new venture.”

“Possible venture.”

“This new possible venture, and we’ll cross our fingers and hope for the best.”

“And now, I suggest we get those iris in the ground,” Liddy said after she drained her glass. “Otherwise, when I tell the story about how I had to redo your garden for you, I might have to admit to being complicit in killing off your mother’s iris.”

Maggie spent the evening preparing for Natalie and Daisy’s arrival the next day. The guest room across the hall from Maggie’s was fluffed, with a vase of fresh daisies set upon the dresser. Thinking ahead to visits from her granddaughter, Maggie had ordered a double bed for Natalie with a trundle bed that pulled out from underneath so Daisy would have her own special place to sleep. When she got older, Daisy could have her own bedroom. The list Maggie had given Grace to take to the general store included some of Natalie’s and Daisy’s favorite foods, and several bottles of wine the three adults could enjoy. She was so excited when the car pulled into the driveway a little after four, she raced outside and flung open the rear passenger door to greet Daisy in her car seat.

“Sweet pea! I’ve missed you!” She swooped in and kissed the little girl’s face. “Hi, Nat! I’m so glad you’re here!”

“I missed you, Nana.” Daisy struggled to release her seat belt.

“Hold up, baby. Let me get that.” Maggie tried but once again was foiled by the intricacies of the car seat.

“I’ll do it, Mom.” Natalie got out of the car and walked around.

“It’s different from the one she had before,” Maggie noted.

“Yeah, well, she’s growing.” Natalie proceeded to help Daisy out of her seat with ease.

The first clue Maggie picked up was the cool tone of Natalie’s voice. The second was the realization that her daughter hadn’t greeted her with a hug. The third? A refusal to meet Maggie’s eyes.

“Nat? What’s wrong?” Maggie took a step back.

“We can talk about it later.” Natalie went around to the back of her car to retrieve their bags.

“Here, let me help you.” Maggie reached to help but Natalie stepped aside.

“I’ve got them, Mom.”

“Mommy, where’s the beach?” Daisy stood in the driveway, looking around. “You said there was a beach at Nana’s new house.”

“We’ll go see it as soon as we get our things inside.” Natalie started up the walk to the front porch. “Come on, Daisy.”

Daisy reached her hand to Maggie, who gave it a little squeeze. Whatever had gotten under Natalie’s skin apparently hadn’t been shared with her daughter.

Daisy chatted away, accompanying Maggie into the kitchen for a snack. Seated on a booster seat at the island, Daisy drank a glass of milk and ate a freshly baked oatmeal cookie while she told Maggie all about the ride and how she kept asking when they’d be here and how far was the beach and was Nana going to get a dog or maybe a cat now that she lived here and could she see the backyard and was there a swing set . . .

“Daisy, you’re making my head spin.” Maggie laughed. “Let’s do one question at a time.”

But before Daisy could resume, Natalie came into the kitchen.

“What are you eating?” She peered into her daughter’s hand. “You know you’re not supposed to snack before dinner.”

Before Natalie could take the cookie, Daisy shoved the remains into her mouth. Her “Nana gave it to me” was barely discernable.

“Mom, we don’t snack between meals. You know that.” Natalie was clearly annoyed, but she did not look her mother in the eye. “Finish your milk, Daisy. We’re going for a walk.”

Natalie stood next to Daisy’s chair and watched her daughter empty the glass. “Good. Let’s go.” She helped Daisy out of the seat and stood her on the floor. Without looking at Maggie, she asked, “Where’s Grace?”

“She ran into town to pick up some things for dinner,” Maggie said softly. “Natalie, what is your problem?”

“Later.” Natalie dismissed her mother and started toward the front door. “When she gets

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