red meat, I’ll even split the order between ribs and chicken.”
That settled, they picked a time two evenings away. While Raine began calling the other family members to inform them of the dinner, Savannah ate her way through the honey pot cookie jar and hoped with all her heart that their concerns would prove ungrounded.
Pregnant with rain, heavy clouds the color of tarnished silver hung low over Coldwater Cove when Ida awoke. There was something she needed to do. Something important. Something for the family.
“It’ll come to you,” she assured herself briskly as she tucked in the sheets with tight, hospital corners, straightened the bright handmade quilt, and fluffed the pillows. She had no trouble remembering that Savannah had made the Sunshine and Shadows quilt for her 4-H project the summer she’d turned twelve, so why couldn’t she remember the thought that had been teasing at the edge of her mind moments earlier?
“It’s not Alzheimer’s,” she assured herself yet again as she showered. Savannah had installed pretty little soaps that looked like colorful seashells in the bathroom. She’d said that they weren’t only for looks, that they had glycerin and some sort of fancy oils in them that would make your skin smooth, but Ida figured at her age, it was a little late to worry about soft skin. “The only thing wrong with me is Old-Timers.”
She dressed, pinned her hair up in its usual haphazard bun, and went downstairs to make coffee. By the time she was on her second cup, the caffeine had kicked in.
“Raine’s party is tonight,” she recalled in a flash of sudden awareness as bright as the lightning that had just lit up the sky outside the kitchen window. “The family will be expecting me to make my meatloaf.”
She checked the freezer and wasn’t surprised to discover that she didn’t have a single pound of ground beef. Savannah had pretty much taken over the cooking since returning home from Los Angeles, and the girl had never been much of a fan of red meat. Ida didn’t mind all the meals of fish and chicken since her granddaughter was, after all, a whiz in the kitchen. But she’d put her foot down about the sushi.
“Might as well buy some Glo-eggs down at the Hook, Line, and Sinker,” she’d told Savannah at the time. “They’re bound to be cheaper.”
She rinsed out her mug, then hung it on the cute little hooks Savannah had put up. She made a list of ingredients she’d need, took the keys to her Jeep down from another rack that was new since her granddaughter’s return, and picked up her pocketbook, which was right where it belonged on the end of the counter.
Outside, thunder rumbled and lightning flashed. The day was shaping up to be a real frog strangler. As she plucked her rain gear from the hook beside the kitchen door, Ida decided that the fact that she remembered her umbrella proved there was nothing at all wrong with her mind.
“It’s going to rain,” John announced when he brought the morning paper into the kitchen.
“Sure looks like it.” Dan glanced out at the threatening sky. He could vaguely make out the silhouette of the lighthouse in the fog. Farther down the beach, the new Coast Guard light flashed brightly. Dan missed the old red-and-white beacon that had made the Far Harbor lighthouse unique among the others on the strait. He also hoped the guys had finished the roof on Savannah’s keeper’s house yesterday.
“Do you think the rain will ruin the dinner tonight?” John asked with obvious concern.
“If it’s still raining tonight, they’ll just move the party indoors. When Jack called yesterday, he said Raine was ordering out from Oley’s, so there won’t be any outdoor cooking to interfere with.”
“That’s good. I like Oley’s barbecue a lot.” John drowned the stack of silver dollar pancakes in blueberry syrup. “Savannah’s coming, right?”
“Right.” Dan didn’t share the details of the sisters’ plan to observe
That settled, they picked a time two evenings away. While Raine began calling the other family members to inform them of the dinner, Savannah ate her way through the honey pot cookie jar and hoped with all her heart that their concerns would prove ungrounded.
Pregnant with rain, heavy clouds the color of tarnished silver hung low over Coldwater Cove when Ida awoke. There was something she needed to do. Something important. Something for the family.
“It’ll come to you,” she assured herself briskly as she tucked in the sheets with tight, hospital corners, straightened the bright handmade quilt, and fluffed the pillows. She had no trouble remembering that Savannah had made the Sunshine and Shadows quilt for her 4-H project the summer she’d turned twelve, so why couldn’t she remember the thought that had been teasing at the edge of her mind moments earlier?
“It’s not Alzheimer’s,” she assured herself yet again as she showered. Savannah had installed pretty little soaps that looked like colorful seashells in the bathroom. She’d said that they weren’t only for looks, that they had glycerin and some sort of fancy oils in them that would make your skin smooth, but Ida figured at her age, it was a little late to worry about soft skin. “The only thing wrong with me is Old-Timers.”
She dressed, pinned her hair up in its usual haphazard bun, and went downstairs to make coffee. By the time she was on her second cup, the caffeine had kicked in.
“Raine’s party is tonight,” she recalled in a flash of sudden awareness as bright as the lightning that had just lit up the sky outside the kitchen window. “The family will be expecting me to make my meatloaf.”
She checked the freezer and wasn’t surprised to discover that she didn’t have a single pound of ground beef. Savannah had pretty much taken over the cooking since returning home from Los Angeles, and the girl had never been much of a fan of red meat. Ida didn’t mind all the meals of fish and chicken since her granddaughter was, after all, a whiz in the kitchen. But she’d put her foot down about the sushi.
“Might as well buy some Glo-eggs down at the Hook, Line, and Sinker,” she’d told Savannah at the time. “They’re bound to be cheaper.”
She rinsed out her mug, then hung it on the cute little hooks Savannah had put up. She made a list of ingredients she’d need, took the keys to her Jeep down from another rack that was new since her granddaughter’s return, and picked up her pocketbook, which was right where it belonged on the end of the counter.
Outside, thunder rumbled and lightning flashed. The day was shaping up to be a real frog strangler. As she plucked her rain gear from the hook beside the kitchen door, Ida decided that the fact that she remembered her umbrella proved there was nothing at all wrong with her mind.
“It’s going to rain,” John announced when he brought the morning paper into the kitchen.
“Sure looks like it.” Dan glanced out at the threatening sky. He could vaguely make out the silhouette of the lighthouse in the fog. Farther down the beach, the new Coast Guard light flashed brightly. Dan missed the old red-and-white beacon that had made the Far Harbor lighthouse unique among the others on the strait. He also hoped the guys had finished the roof on Savannah’s keeper’s house yesterday.
“Do you think the rain will ruin the dinner tonight?” John asked with obvious concern.
“If it’s still raining tonight, they’ll just move the party indoors. When Jack called yesterday, he said Raine was ordering out from Oley’s, so there won’t be any outdoor cooking to interfere with.”
“That’s good. I like Oley’s barbecue a lot.” John drowned the stack of silver dollar pancakes in blueberry syrup. “Savannah’s coming, right?”
“Right.” Dan didn’t share the details of the sisters’ plan to observe
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