“Climate change,” Flo declared in her matter-of-fact tone.
“Goodness, what all did you bring?” Heather asked, returning to the kitchen. Setting the box on the counter, she pulled out a loaf of Flo’s homemade honey wheat bread, a jar of honey from her bees, two jars of her homemade strawberry jam, and two bottles of wine. She carried the wine out to the table. “You’re spoiling us,” she chided Flo.
“I’ve got to give it to someone. How much honey can a woman eat? Blueberries will be coming in soon. I’ll bring you some jam from that, too. And don’t worry—I won’t put too much sugar in it. I know you don’t like it.”
Heather grinned, grateful. “You’re too generous. That bread you brought last week was heaven. Thank you.”
Flo lifted her hand. “No thanks necessary.”
Emmi stepped forward with the pie. “This I made,” she said with pride. “Flo’s not the only one who can bake. When she lets me have a turn at the oven.”
Heather took the pie and made a show of peeking under the aluminum foil. “It’s beautiful. Thank you!”
“It’s strawberry rhubarb. Made from scratch,” she added, with a smug smile directed at Flo.
“If you’re done talking about pies,” Flo interjected. “I’m as dry as the desert. You wouldn’t happen to have anything to drink?” She looked pointedly at the bottles of wine on the table.
“Bubble water or plain?” Heather asked, heading toward the kitchen.
Flo scrunched up her face. “It’s after five o’clock. How about white or red?”
“Flo, give the girl a chance,” Emmi scolded her.
Heather set the pie on the counter and paused, feeling her cheeks flame. Of course they wanted wine. What sort of hostess didn’t offer wine instantly to her dinner guests? She poked her head out the kitchen entrance, smiling self-consciously. “I’m sorry. I’m not very practiced at being a hostess yet. Red or white?”
“Oh, you’re just fine,” Flo said with a wave of her hand. “Most people don’t have to deal with an opinionated, brassy old woman for their first dinner party. But since you’re asking . . .” She walked to the table and picked up a bottle. “I’ll have some of this red I brought. I drink only red these days. Hear it’s good for my heart. At my age, you’ve got to try everything.”
“If you’re pouring,” Emmi chimed in. “I’ll take white. Whatever you have that’s chilled. The Chardonnay I brought isn’t cold. Here, darlin’, you might want to stick it in the fridge.” She handed Heather the bottle of white as well.
Heather stuck her head in the well-stocked fridge and peered around. “All I have chilled is Pinot Grigio,” she called out to Emmi.
“Even better. Need any help in there?”
“No, thanks,” Heather responded. She poured, and carried the two glasses of wine out to her guests.
“Where’s Cara?” asked Emmi, looking around. “Please say she’s not in bed.”
“She’s fine. She’s still getting ready,” Heather replied. “She made the tabouli salad from scratch. It’s delicious. She’ll be out in a minute.” She leaned in and spoke in a softer voice. “So we have a minute to chat.”
Flo and Emmi gathered closer.
Heather pressed her palms together. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Explain what?” asked Emmi, leaning forward, brows knitted.
“I hope I’m not speaking out of turn.”
“Of course not. We’re her best friends. What?”
Heather took a breath and pushed on. “Sometimes I see her walking around the house . . . and her lips are moving. As if she’s talking to someone.”
Flo and Emmi exchanged a worried glance.
“Maybe she’s talking to Brett,” Emmi suggested. “You know, part of the mourning process.” She looked to Flo for confirmation.
“It’s not all that unusual,” said Flo. “No big psychological meaning. When you’re used to sharing your life with someone for years, it’s only natural.”
“Except,” Heather continued. “I’m not sure it’s Brett she’s talking to. I hear her say ‘Mama.’ And almost every night she goes out to sit on the dune outside. She sits there for at least an hour. Just staring out.”
“That dune right out there?” Flo asked, pointing out back. When Heather nodded, her eyes flashed in understanding. “That’s Lovie’s dune. Lovie used to sit out there, too. It’s a long, sad story.”
“Not just sad,” interjected Emmi. “It’s beautiful, too. Romantic.”
“Maybe,” conceded Flo.
“Tell me?” asked Heather.
Flo took a sip of wine. “Back when she was a young woman, Lovie fell in love. Problem was, the man she loved wasn’t her husband. She ended it, as she had to back then. There wasn’t any support for women back in the day, and for a woman of her position to get a divorce would’ve caused the biggest scandal. She wouldn’t do that to her children. It near killed her, though. This beach house was her sanctuary. Her salvation, even. Then sometime later we learned that Russell, the man she was in love with, had died in a plane crash. He was flying along the beaches on a survey and his plane went down.” She turned and pointed to the ocean. “Right out there.”
“That is sad,” said Heather, hanging on Flo’s every word.
“Tragic is what it was. Anyway,” she continued after a breath, “Lovie used to sit on that there dune and remember him. Talk to him, too, if I recall. It was her special place.”
Heather understood all. “And that’s why Cara’s there. To talk to her mother.”
“And to Brett,” Emmi added.
Flo took a gulp of her wine. “Cara said you’ve had dreams of her mother? Lovie?”
Heather nodded. “Not often. A few.”
“And you smelled her perfume?”
“I smell jasmine,” Heather said. “But that could be coming from outside.”
“Could,” Flo agreed, then skewered Heather with a look. “But Cara thinks it’s her mama. From all you say, I think she’s trying to get in touch with Lovie.” She pursed her lips in thought. “I wouldn’t mention your dreams if you get any more. Leastwise, not till she feels better.”
“Cara’s going to be fine,” Emmi said in a bolstering tone. “We’ll get her back to her old self.”
“Honey,” Flo said sadly, “Cara’s never going to be her old self. Her life has changed. But we’ll help her be the Cara she’s meant to be now.”
“I hope our plan works,” Heather said. She’d invited Flo and Emmi over under the ruse of a simple dinner party, but the three women intended to use the opportunity to lay out a plan they hoped Cara would approve of for getting her outside and back into her life.
“Of course it will work,” Flo said sotto voce. “It’s got to. I have to hand it to you, Heather. You came up with the idea of luring her out of the house with places and things she loves while the rest of us were just wringing our hands.”
“It’ll be fun for us, too,” added Emmi. “Cara and I talk all the time about places we want to go, things we want to see, but we always seem to be too busy. This gives me a purpose.”