An Invincible Summer (Wyndham Beach) by Mariah Stewart (e novels to read .TXT) 📕

The last thing he said to her was, “I’ll be in touch.”

Their driver had pressed an unopened bottle of champagne on them as they were getting out of the limo the night before (“From the boss”), so after Natalie took Daisy to day care in the morning, she and Grace had mimosas along with the omelets Grace made. They relived the night before and laughed at how little it had taken for them to act like teenagers again, singing and dancing in the area between their seats and the stage.

“It probably looked better on the teens and the girls who were in their early twenties than it did on my thirty-two years, but honestly, I can’t remember the last time I had that much fun,” Grace declared when she’d finished eating.

“Me either. And the concert was amazing. The band is everything Chris always wanted it to be.”

“Oh, really? And how would we know that, missy?”

“You heard him last night. We were good friends that last summer. We talked a lot. Life. Our goals.”

“Sounded to me like you guys were doing more than talking.”

“He kissed me one time. That last night.”

“Must have been a wowzer of a kiss for him to remember it for, what? Ten years?”

“Twelve, but who’s counting?” Natalie got up and cleared the table. “But to set the record straight, it was a double-wowzer.”

“Huh. You and Chris Dean.” Grace grinned. “He’d not be a good bet these days, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s a player, Nat. He dates A-list celebrities. I see his picture in People with someone different every other week.”

Natalie shrugged. “It’s not like there’s anything but friendship between us.”

“You can call it whatever you want, but he not only remembered kissing you, he wrote a freaking song about it.”

“I think what he remembered was the fact I believed in him back then. And back then, it was probably only me and Emma who did. Remember how his father treated him so badly because Chris didn’t want to go to Harvard and become a banker?”

“Not really. I wasn’t around that summer at all. I interned at Dad’s office and only came to Wyndham Beach for Memorial Day and Labor Day weekends.”

“Mr. Dean was just awful. It was like he was embarrassed to have a son who believed he could make a living making music. A couple times that summer, I heard Mom and his mom talking about it, how she—Emma—was stuck between her husband and her son, and it was tearing her apart. I think that’s why Chris decided to take his band on the road, to get out of the house. He was hoping his father would let up on his mother if he was gone, but I don’t think he did.” Natalie paused. “And then a few years later, Mr. Dean had a heart attack and died. Mom said Chris and Emma both blamed themselves, but Mom said he’d had a heart condition for years.”

Natalie poured herself a second cup of coffee, scooted back to her place on the banquette, positioned a pillow behind her, and settled in.

“Have you made a decision yet about the house? Keeping it? Selling it?”

“I’m going to sell it. I don’t want to live there again. It represents a time in my life when I was happy and settled and knew who I was and who Zach was. We were a team there.”

“I don’t think Zach was much of a team player, Gracie,” Natalie said as tactfully as she could. “I think he played for himself.”

“You’re right. But back then, it didn’t feel that way. Whatever he was scheming, I never saw it.” She forced a smile. “Love really is blind, kiddo.”

“If it were me, I could never be happy in that place again.”

“I sure wasn’t happy there after Zach left. Which is why I started that stupid blog to begin with.”

“I don’t think the blog was stupid at all. I told you, I think it was a brilliant way to deal with a painful situation.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that. But yeah. The house is going.” Grace stood.

“Are you considering staying in Wyndham Beach?”

“I honestly don’t know. I don’t think I’d mind it, though. There’s something so peaceful and easy about being there. Life is slower than it is in the city. Of course, then I run the risk of being the unemployed, thirty-two-year-old woman living with her mother.”

“You could get a job,” Natalie suggested.

“I’m still thinking about what I want to do. But right now I’m going to head out. Thanks for hanging out with me last night and for letting me stay.”

“You’re always welcome here. Anytime.” Natalie walked her sister to the front door, where Grace had left her overnight bag. “Next time you need to teach me how to make a killer omelet like the one you made this morning.”

“Aw, you make me almost sorry for all those times when I was so mean to you when we were kids.” Grace picked up her bag, then turned to hug her sister. “Almost.”

Natalie laughed. “Stay well, you. Drive safely.”

She stood in the doorway and watched Grace drive away. When the car disappeared around the corner, Natalie closed the door and went into the kitchen to clean up from breakfast. Then she carried in her laptop and set it on the table. She checked email—so few since school ended for the semester. One student who wanted to argue his grade, another who thanked her for helping him improve his listening and reading skills. One from Glenn Patton, asking if she’d like to go with him to the Mann Center on Sunday afternoon for a concert. And one from Joe Miller, her would-be half brother. She clicked on his email and began to read.

Natalie,

Well, I haven’t heard back from you, so I’m assuming you have decided not to be in contact with me. I understand, and it’s okay. I do have something exciting to share with you, though, before I disappear from your life (unless you change