Firefly Summer

by Nan Rossiter

  “Thanks. I won’t really know for a while.”

  “When’s your signing in Chatham?”

  “Saturday from two till three thirty—so it’ll actually be good if it’s raining because people will be out shopping instead of going to the beach.”

  “Saturday is tomorrow, you know.”

  Sailor frowned, realizing her sister was right. “I don’t know why I keep thinking today is Thursday.”

  “Well, if I were to come down around three tomorrow, do you want to go to Chatham Squires for a drink?”

  Sailor smiled. “That would be great!”

  Piper searched her sister’s face. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d been crying.”

  Sailor chuckled and reached up under her eyes. “Why? Is my mascara making me look like a raccoon?”

  “Maybe a little,” Piper said, handing her a tissue. “Why were you crying?”

  “I just heard that old song by Gerry and The Pacemakers. . . .”

  “Oh,” Piper said, nodding in understanding.

  “Anyway,” Sailor said, changing the subject, “I’m planning to bring my layered dip, a tossed salad, and a macaroni salad on Sunday. Do you need anything else?”

  “Are you sure you have time to make all that? Don’t forget, you’re going to be busy.”

  “I’m sure. They’re all easy. Anything else?”

  Piper frowned. “I don’t think so. Nat and Elias are picking up corn, I’m picking up the hamburgers and hot dogs right now, Birdie’s making potato salad and an hors d’oeuvre, and Remy is making dessert.”

  “What’s she making?” Sailor asked.

  “I don’t know—she said it was a surprise.”

  “Hmm,” Sailor said. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be good.”

  Piper nodded. “Oh! And guess what else!”

  “What?!”

  “She asked me if it would be okay if John came.”

  “No way!”

  Piper nodded.

  “Wow ...” Sailor said, raising her eyebrows. “I think she’s withholding information.”

  “I think you’re right,” Piper said and they both laughed.

  “Last call—number fifty-six!” a voice from behind the deli counter called for the third time.

  Piper looked down at her number. “Oops, that’s me,” she said, waving her hand to let him know she was there. “Thanks for the coffee,” she said, giving her sister another hug. “You’re the best!”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow in Chatham ... if I don’t see you again in this store!”

  “Okay! I’m looking forward to it!”

  They parted ways, each consulting their list and only passed each other one more time—in front of the ice-cream case. “It’s for Elias,” Piper said, grinning.

  “Yeah, right,” Sailor said, laughing.

  CHAPTER 57

  As promised, the only appearance the sun made on Saturday was when it peeked over the watery horizon at dawn. Dark clouds rolled in from the west, right along with lines of cars crossing over the bridges from the mainland for the long holiday weekend.

  Remy looked out the kitchen window, trying to decide whether or not she had enough time to get in her walk before it started raining, and then she turned on the TV to watch the forecast. There was an ominous line of thunderstorms marching across Connecticut, but it looked like it wouldn’t reach the Cape for a couple more hours, so she should have time. She might even have time to go to the market.

  She tied her sneakers, stopped at the bathroom, and then walked over to turn the TV off, but just as she reached for the remote, the TV started beeping and an emergency warning scrolled across the bottom of the screen, warning residents that the impending storm could bring hurricane-force winds, driving rain, and golf ball–size hail! She turned off the TV and made a mental note to put her new car in the garage. The last thing she needed was golf ball–size hail hitting it!

  She opened the back door and Edison scooted in. “Is it that bad out?” she asked, but he’d already disappeared up the stairs. The weatherman had promised that the storm would usher in cooler air and she hoped he was right. The last several days had been oppressively hot and humid . . . much too hot for June . . . but as she closed the door, she suddenly realized it was July. What had happened to June?!

  The last week had been a whirlwind of activity. From helping Birdie get David home and settled, to walking Bailey so Birdie could stay by his side. And from going out to dinner with John two of the last four nights, to going out for breakfast yesterday, she couldn’t remember when she’d been so busy. Not since all her kids were home, she decided, and that reminded her—Payton and her family were all due to arrive that night, in the middle of the storm! She wondered if she should tell her to wait and come in the morning when Eliza and Sam and their families were coming. She’d been looking forward to having a chance to visit with her oldest daughter alone for a few hours but there was no sense in taking chances. She picked up her pace, her mind racing with all the things she still needed to do, and she almost tripped on a root. “There’s definitely no time for that,” she murmured.

  When she finally got home, the first fat raindrops were splashing on her bare arms. She hurried into the house, used the bathroom again, grabbed her purse and keys, and headed to the market. She was happy to find a spot right in front and hurried inside with her jacket over her head to grab the two things she needed: a pint of whipping cream and a half gallon of black raspberry ice cream. But when she passed by the coffee and tea display, she decided to treat herself to a warm chocolate croissant and a cup of Earl Grey tea—it was that kind of day!

  She drove home, pulled into the garage, gathered her things, and just as she pushed open the mudroom door, the skies opened up. “That was close!” she said, putting the ice cream in the freezer and looking out at the sheets of rain racing across the white-capped bay. She listened to the wind howl around the house and then heard a loud clattering and knew the porch furniture was blowing over. The kitchen lights flickered and she looked up anxiously. “Please don’t let the power go out,” she said, reaching for her tea. “I still have a cake to bake!”

  CHAPTER 58

  Piper felt like the Tasmanian devil as she rushed around the house, tucking away papers, washing windows, scrubbing floors, wiping down the counters, cleaning out the fridge to make room for all the food, and vacuuming up several weeks of wispy golden retriever hair that had congregated in the corners. All the while, Chloe followed her around, happily carrying new Zoe in her mouth and wagging her tail because she knew—from past experience—that cleaning meant company was coming!

  While Piper worked inside, Nat and Elias worked outside—mowing and trimming the lawn, weeding all the flower beds and the vegetable garden, and finally spreading the huge pile of mulch that had been sitting in the driveway for a month. Piper went out to see how they were doing and realized the sky was slate gray. So much for setting up the picnic tables and chairs, she thought glumly. “You guys better head in,” she called as a gust of wind sent leaves spiraling into the sky.

  She opened the fridge, pulled out the cold cuts she’d bought the day before, and opened up a new bag of grinder rolls. Chloe settled strategically at her feet to watch her every move. “You’re silly, you know that?” she said, breaking off a piece of cheese and offering it to her. Chloe took it politely, and in the very next moment, a bright light flashed outside, followed by a loud clap of thunder that made the lights flicker. Piper looked outside again and saw Nat and Elias scrambling to put their tools away, and just as the skies opened up, they tumbled through the door, laughing. “Don’t you two know you shouldn’t be carrying metal tools around during a thunderstorm?”

  “Yes, we know,” Elias said, reaching around her for a piece of cheese and then breaking off a small piece for Chloe.

  “I just gave her a piece,” Piper scolded.

  “Oh well,” he said, kissing the top of the golden’
s head. “She got two pieces!”

  Chloe licked his cheek and thumped her tail. “I think she said she wants a piece of ham,” he said, trying to reach around his mom again, but this time, Piper slapped his hand. “Hey!” he said, laughing. “Sorry, Chlo . . . I tried.”

  Piper handed him a plate and saw him reaching for a large unopened bag of Cape Cod waffle chips. “Those are for tomorrow.”

  Elias looked wounded. “They are?”

  “Oh, go ahead,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But don’t eat ’em all.”

  Thunder rumbled across the heavens, and then they heard pattering and clicking on the roof and they all stood up and looked outside. “It’s hailing,” Nat said in surprise.

  “Holy cow! Look at the size of it!” Elias pushed open the door and picked up several pieces of the frozen water and held them in his palm. As they looked at them, they heard a loud crack followed by the sound of splitting of wood. Piper looked out and saw a long, heavy branch of one of the oak trees spear the ground. She went out on the porch to see the damage and watched as the wind rushed through the remaining branches of the old oaks, swaying them violently. Her heart pounded. “Please don’t let any of those old trees come down,” she whispered. Almost immediately, she heard her father’s reassuring voice from her childhood telling her that the roots of the trees he’d planted when they were each born would intertwine as they grew and would be able to withstand any storm. “They will never fall,” he’d said.

  Piper pictured the roots of the old trees deep below the earth’s surface, wrapping around each other like the long tendrils of life, weaving and growing . . . ever deeper . . . ever stronger . . . able to withstand any of life’s storms.

  Piper smiled and then looked down at her wet clothes and sighed. She went back inside and glanced at the clock—it was already two o’clock! Where had the day gone?! She hadn’t even showered yet, and she was supposed to be in Chatham in an hour! “I have to go,” she said, rewrapping the cold cuts and putting them back in the fridge.

  “Where are you going?” Nat asked in surprise.

  “Sailor’s book signing.”

  “You’re driving to Chatham in this?”

  “I am. I told her I’d come and then we’re going to the Squires after.”

  “I thought we had stuff to do.”

  “I did all my stuff,” she said.

  “Nice,” Elias said with his mouth full of grinder. “How come you didn’t invite us?”

  “Because I didn’t think you’d want to go, and besides, you have to go to the sanctuary to check on the old lady.”

  “That’s right!” Nat said. “Thanks for reminding me.” He looked at Elias. “Want to come along?”

  “I’d love to,” Elias said. “Thank you for inviting me.”

  “Okay, you two,” Piper said, laughing as she wiped the crumbs off the counter. “I honestly didn’t think you’d want to go to a children’s book signing, and since I’ll probably grab something to eat with Sailor—”

  “And drink,” Nat said, winking at Elias.

  Piper shook her head. “Well, anyway, you two should probably plan on stopping for pizza or something on your way home.”

  “Sure,” Nat teased, nodding to Elias. “She goes from telling us she’s going to a book signing to now telling us she’s going out for dinner and drinks.”

  “And she didn’t invite us,” Elias added.

  “I didn’t say anything about drinks,” Piper countered.

  “I don’t think the Quinn sisters can get together without drinking,” Nat teased.

  “Oh yes, we can, and now, I’m heading upstairs to take my shower.”

  “Mom, don’t you know you’re not supposed to take a shower during a thunderstorm?”

  “I’ll have to take my chances,” Piper said, “and by the way, you two spend a lot of time ganging up on me when you’re together.” She eyed Elias. “So I might just have to send you back to school early.”

  “No, we don’t,” they said in unison. “Do we, Chlo?” Nat added, rubbing the golden’s ears. She wagged her tail in happy agreement.

  CHAPTER 59

  Sunday morning dawned cool and crisp. Birdie poured two mugs of coffee while thinking about the day ahead. She and David were supposed to be at Piper’s around two and she still had her potato salad to make—which wouldn’t take long, but she wanted to make something else, too . . . and she hadn’t decided what yet.

  She set one of the mugs down in front of David, who was looking at the paper. “Would you like some scrambled eggs?”

  “Sounds good,” he answered. “Want help?”

  “No, you stay put.”

  She opened the fridge and took out the ingredients she’d need: four eggs, milk, and just enough butter for the pan. Ever since they’d retired, David had been in charge of breakfast, but ever since his heart attack, Birdie had been in charge of everything. . . and she took David’s new low-fat, low-salt diet very seriously. They’d always eaten plenty of fruits and vegetables, but now, Birdie had decided to make a conscientious effort to minimize their fat and salt intake, too. The thought of David dying had scared her more than it had scared him!

  “Toast?” she asked.

  “Half a slice,” he said, watching her bustle around the kitchen, making the eggs and opening the bread bag. He watched her turn on the front burner and drop a dab of butter into the frying pan, and the simple act made him smile. The last week had been a whirlwind for both of them, but mostly for Birdie. She’d brought him home from the hospital and helped him get settled; she’d coordinated with Remy to stop by and walk Bailey; she’d made sure he had everything he needed and waited on him hand and foot. She’d given him her undivided attention and assumed all the responsibilities around the house that had been his; in fact, her willingness to do everything had started to make him feel guilty. Especially yesterday, when the power had gone out for over an hour and she’d been in the middle of cooking an Oven Stuffer. She’d kept her cool while they waited for the power to come back on . . . and the chicken had turned out to be one of the tastiest they’d ever had.

  “It must be that low-temp, slow-cooking method people are always talking about,” she’d said, chuckling, when he commented on how moist it was.

  David was astounded by the change that had come over her—she was no longer in a brooding, dark place . . . and he hadn’t seen her take even a sip of wine—in fact, there were no wine bottles around at all!

  “What’re you making for the picnic?” he asked.

  “Potato salad and maybe fruit salad, but if I make a fruit salad, I have to run to the store,” she said, scraping the scrambled eggs onto two plates.

  “That’s fine. I’m sure I’ll be okay. Bailey will look after me, won’t you, girl?” He stroked her head—which had been on his lap every time he sat down since he’d gotten home from the hospital. “I’m lucky to have two girls looking out for me.”

  Birdie chuckled and reached for her coffee. “It will be nice to see everyone. I can’t remember the last time we saw Remy’s grandkids.”

  “Probably last summer,” David surmised, taking a bite of his toast. He frowned. “Isn’t Sailor’s family coming, too?”

  “Noo ...” Birdie said, shaking her head, “and she’s not happy about it.”

  “Why aren’t they?”

  “Because Frank invited them to Maine.”

  “Had she invited them here?”

  “She hadn’t—she just assumed they knew they were invited because we always get together on the Fourth, but now, everything’s different. She’s discovering she’s going to have to get used to sharing the kids on the holidays.”

  David shook his head and took a bite of his eggs. “You’re going to have to give me a refresher on Remy’s grandkids because I don’t remember their names.”

  Birdie smiled, swallowing the bite she’d just taken. “I couldn’t remember, either,” she said, reaching for the index card that was propped up between the salt and pepper
shakers and the napkin holder. “That’s why I asked Remy to write it down.” She put on her glasses and studied the card. “Okay ... so Payton and Tom have two girls, Hunter and Parker—who are ten and eight.”

  “Oh, right,” David said, his memory jogged. “The girls with the boys’ names.”

  “Right,” Birdie said.

  “I think odd names run in your family.”

  “I think you’re right,” Birdie said, laughing. “Shall I continue?”

  “Yes,” he said as he sipped his coffee.

  “Sam and Tess have a boy and a girl. Elliot is seven and Maya is five.”

  David nodded. “That’s a little better. Sam always had a good head on his shoulders.”

  “Eliza and Tim have three boys now—she just had the third one in March. Their names are Mason, Cayden, and Logan—they are three, two . . . and the new little one is almost four months.”

  “What is it with people giving their children names that all sound the same?” he asked, sounding perplexed.

  “I have no idea,” Birdie said. “Maybe it’s to make it easier for their elderly aunts and uncles to remember.”

  “Or harder,” David said. “Thank goodness Sailor’s grandkids aren’t coming because I would never remember everyone. I’m lucky if I can keep the first generation straight.”

  Birdie smiled. “I’m sure you’ll do fine, and if you forget, you can always resort to ‘Hey, you!’ ”

  “I might just have to,” he said, chuckling, and then he looked at her with a puzzled expression. “What’s your name again?”

  Birdie laughed and shook her head.

  CHAPTER 60

  Sailor hurriedly packed the food she’d made into the new cooler she’d bought and then carried it out and loaded it in the back of her car. The food would be fine—she only had one stop to make along the way—but she worried that Piper wouldn’t have enough room in her fridge for everything, and having an extra cooler around would only be helpful. She went back into the kitchen and looked around one last time as Mister Breeze sauntered in from the bedroom. “What’s it going to be, sir, in or out?” she asked, holding the door open for him. “I’m going to be gone all day.” He swished between her legs and stood on the threshold, peering outside and blinking at the sunshine. “That’s all right. Take your time,” she said. “I’m not in any hurry.” The orange cat—who had put on a little weight and whose coat was getting shiny—stretched his front legs with his butt in the air and then stepped gingerly outside. “Good choice,” she said, slipping her bag over her shoulder and stepping out behind him. She closed the door and knelt down to stroke his head. “I’ll be back tonight.” He pushed his head up into her hand, purring, and then hopped up into one of the chairs and stretched out in the sunshine.