Summer Beach Reads 5-Book Bundle: Beachcombers, Heat Wave, Moon Shell Beach, Summer House, Summer Breeze by Nancy Thayer Page B

Millicent said, gesturing impatiently.
    Emma stepped close to the wheelchair. Sandra had told her to dress conservatively; her mother-in-law did not approve of the current style of showing off so much skin. Today she wore a white shirt, khaki trousers, and sandals. It was hot outside, but in this room with its high ceilings and heavy draperies drawn against the sun, the heat was moderate, although the air was heavy with humidity.
    “Hello, Mrs. Bracebridge,” Emma said.
    “Lean down so I can see you. I’ve got macular degeneration. If you come close, I can get bits of you, though.”
    Emma obediently leaned down. As she did, she caught the scent of the older woman, a mix of talcum powder and a light floral fragrance.
    Millicent Bracebridge turned her head slightly, seeming to aim her black eyes away from Emma’s face. “You’re a very pretty girl. Pick up that book over there and read a few sentences for me.”
    “Moby-Dick!”
Emma exclaimed. “I loved this book.” Opening it to the first page, she began to read.
    After a few sentences, Sandra Bracebridge interrupted. “All right, Millicent? Does she read to your satisfaction?”
    “She’s fine.” She waved her hand. “Go on along. Don’t worry.”
    “The bathroom is just down the hall,” Sandra Bracebridge told Emma. “And the kitchen’s at the back of the house if you need a drink of water, or there might be iced tea in the refrigerator.”
    “Sandra, the girl is not an imbecile.” Millicent’s voice was sharp.
    “All right, then.” Sandra leaned over to kiss the older woman’s forehead. “Three hours, right?” she asked Emma.
    “Right,” Emma affirmed.
    Sandra left the room, and a moment later, the front door closed. Emma picked up
Moby-Dick
and settled on the corner of the sofa. “Can you hear me from here, Mrs. Bracebridge?” she asked.
    “Very well, thank you. But before you get settled, I’d like you to get another book. Do you see the glass-fronted secretary in the corner? On the top shelf, far left, you’ll find Agatha Christie’s
Murder in the Links.
”
    Emma obeyed. She opened the door, found the book, and returned to the sofa. “Got it.”
    “Good. Now, this is important. When you are through reading, every day, you must remember to replace the book exactly where you found it.”
    “Oh. All right. I’ll do that.”
    “It’s Sandra, you see. She worries about me. She’s afraid I’m getting senile. Getting lost in the past. And here’s a little secret. I do get lost in the past. As often as possible. I love it there. But Sandra knows I’ve read Agatha Christie’s entire oeuvre several times over. I don’t want to cause her any alarm, and she will become alarmed if you tell her you’re reading Agatha Christie to me. So this is our secret, all right?”
    Emma grinned. “Absolutely. I’m very good at keeping secrets. I—”
    Millicent cut her short. “All I care about is that you keep
my
secret. Now please read.”
    Emma read.
    After thirty minutes, Emma excused herself to fetch iced tea for herself and Millicent. The tea provided a necessary pick-me-up; the warm dim room with all its heavy rugs, sofas draped with afghans, and antiques piled on top of antiques began to seem claustrophobic to Emma. No sounds came in from the street, no children laughing, no birds singing. Only the ticking of the clock in the hall provided any counterpoint to Emma’s voice. As she read, she found herself giving a distinctive voice to each character, using a French accent for the Belgian detective, a pompous British one for Hastings, and high fluttering voices for the women. She was rewarded by seeing Millicent smile whenever Poirot spoke. Emma read along, stopping only to refresh her throat with some tea, and soon the clock struck four.
    “It’s time for me to go, Mrs. Bracebridge,” she said.
    “Very well, mark the place where you stopped. There’s a bookmark over on the secretary. You’ll have to remember where you left off