bloomed with enthusiasm. “In your room, of course. It will always be your room, Carson. That will never change.”
Carson heard the sincerity in Harper’s words and moved to wrap her arms around her.
Harper smelled the oriental scent of Bal à Versailles, Mamaw’s scent and now Carson’s as well. Harper always associated the scent with love and security, and it brought her instantly back to the days of their girlhood summers. In that moment all the tension vanished and there was only her and her sister, back at Sea Breeze, together again.
Chapter Six
When a woman lives long enough to see her grandchildren married and settled, she feels blessed.
L ater that evening, when the moon rose over the earth and the stars sparkled in a crisp, cool sky, Mamaw stood at the kitchen window peering out at the Cove. The moon shed dreamy light across the water, creating a ribbon of light on the rippling tide. Her granddaughters were sitting together on the dock—Eudora, Carson, and Harper. This early in the season that water would be nippy, so instead of dangling legs in the sea they sat huddled in blankets against the chill. Occasional yelps of high-pitched laughter sang out in the quiet night. In the moonlight, they could be young girls again—her Summer Girls. Her heart expanded as she said a prayer of thanks that the summer before her plan to bring the girls back together at Sea Breeze, after their being scattered to the four corners of the United States, had worked so well. Far better than herexpectations. Here they were once more, happy, connected. Sisters.
True they were half sisters. The daughters of her only child, Parker, and his three wives. Not that she blamed him for wandering. Though she loved her granddaughters to distraction, her daughters-in-law were a disappointment to say the least. Dora’s mother, Winnie, was a small-minded, prejudiced woman Mamaw found annoying at best.
Then there was poor Sophie, Carson’s mother. Mamaw couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the eighteen-year-old French nanny, even though she broke up Winnie and Parker’s marriage. But then again, if it wasn’t Sophie, it would have been someone else. Her son had a wandering eye, and Sophie was too young and too weak to withstand his charms. Her tragic death had scarred young Carson, but in consequence, the four-year-old was delivered to Mamaw’s care. And for that special bond she shared with Carson, Mamaw would always be grateful.
Mamaw only had disdain for Harper’s mother, Georgiana James. A more arrogant, self-righteous harridan she’d never met. And a negligent daughter and a narcissistic mother to boot. For the scant few months she was married to Parker, Georgiana was also cruel. The best Mamaw could say about that union was that Harper was born—and a sweeter child never walked the earth.
But Parker, bless his heart, though a dear boy, had displayed little restraint or sense of responsibility to himself or his daughters. Mamaw had done her best to support him, but in the end she’d only made excuses and cleaned up his messes. Edward was furious with his son, then disgusted, then finallyapathetic. He’d wanted to cut Parker off since college, but Mamaw wouldn’t hear of it. In her day, a mother did what she could to help her child. Yes, she’d spoiled him. But Parker was her only child. She’d made mistakes, she knew that now. Her therapist had taught her the word they’d coined for what she was—an enabler .
Mamaw had her regrets, true. But one thing she had no regrets about was inviting her three granddaughters to Sea Breeze each summer. She gathered her Summer Girls together like precious seashells and helped them to connect as sisters should. Mamaw sniffed. She couldn’t count on their mothers for that! Besides, with Carson in California and Harper in New York, how else could she be certain they’d know where they were from? To remind the girls of their southern roots.
And they did come. Every year, from the
Carson heard the sincerity in Harper’s words and moved to wrap her arms around her.
Harper smelled the oriental scent of Bal à Versailles, Mamaw’s scent and now Carson’s as well. Harper always associated the scent with love and security, and it brought her instantly back to the days of their girlhood summers. In that moment all the tension vanished and there was only her and her sister, back at Sea Breeze, together again.
Chapter Six
When a woman lives long enough to see her grandchildren married and settled, she feels blessed.
L ater that evening, when the moon rose over the earth and the stars sparkled in a crisp, cool sky, Mamaw stood at the kitchen window peering out at the Cove. The moon shed dreamy light across the water, creating a ribbon of light on the rippling tide. Her granddaughters were sitting together on the dock—Eudora, Carson, and Harper. This early in the season that water would be nippy, so instead of dangling legs in the sea they sat huddled in blankets against the chill. Occasional yelps of high-pitched laughter sang out in the quiet night. In the moonlight, they could be young girls again—her Summer Girls. Her heart expanded as she said a prayer of thanks that the summer before her plan to bring the girls back together at Sea Breeze, after their being scattered to the four corners of the United States, had worked so well. Far better than herexpectations. Here they were once more, happy, connected. Sisters.
True they were half sisters. The daughters of her only child, Parker, and his three wives. Not that she blamed him for wandering. Though she loved her granddaughters to distraction, her daughters-in-law were a disappointment to say the least. Dora’s mother, Winnie, was a small-minded, prejudiced woman Mamaw found annoying at best.
Then there was poor Sophie, Carson’s mother. Mamaw couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the eighteen-year-old French nanny, even though she broke up Winnie and Parker’s marriage. But then again, if it wasn’t Sophie, it would have been someone else. Her son had a wandering eye, and Sophie was too young and too weak to withstand his charms. Her tragic death had scarred young Carson, but in consequence, the four-year-old was delivered to Mamaw’s care. And for that special bond she shared with Carson, Mamaw would always be grateful.
Mamaw only had disdain for Harper’s mother, Georgiana James. A more arrogant, self-righteous harridan she’d never met. And a negligent daughter and a narcissistic mother to boot. For the scant few months she was married to Parker, Georgiana was also cruel. The best Mamaw could say about that union was that Harper was born—and a sweeter child never walked the earth.
But Parker, bless his heart, though a dear boy, had displayed little restraint or sense of responsibility to himself or his daughters. Mamaw had done her best to support him, but in the end she’d only made excuses and cleaned up his messes. Edward was furious with his son, then disgusted, then finallyapathetic. He’d wanted to cut Parker off since college, but Mamaw wouldn’t hear of it. In her day, a mother did what she could to help her child. Yes, she’d spoiled him. But Parker was her only child. She’d made mistakes, she knew that now. Her therapist had taught her the word they’d coined for what she was—an enabler .
Mamaw had her regrets, true. But one thing she had no regrets about was inviting her three granddaughters to Sea Breeze each summer. She gathered her Summer Girls together like precious seashells and helped them to connect as sisters should. Mamaw sniffed. She couldn’t count on their mothers for that! Besides, with Carson in California and Harper in New York, how else could she be certain they’d know where they were from? To remind the girls of their southern roots.
And they did come. Every year, from the
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