Secrets in Summer

Not far away, a figure turned off Pine and raced down the sidewalk toward Darcy. Willow. Darcy hoped the girl wouldn’t catch her foot on one of the many broken bricks and fall. She very well might, Darcy thought, it was turning out to be that kind of summer.

“Darcy!” Willow raced up to Darcy and grasped her arm, tugging her to move faster. She wore jean shorts and a T-shirt and her hair was a mess.

“Slow down and catch your breath,” Darcy said. “Forget about your mother and Boyz for a moment. Have you spoken to Mimi today?”

“Mimi? No. Oh, gosh, I forgot. I think I’m supposed to read to her this afternoon.”

“Willow, Mimi’s sick. Not something frightening, just a bad summer cold. I went over there yesterday to visit her. Clive is taking care of her, but he doesn’t think to do some basic stuff like bringing her a fresh nightgown.”

Willow’s face crinkled with worry. “How is she today?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to Clive. Why don’t we stop in and see Mimi now?” As she spoke the words, Darcy’s conscience pinched her; Darcy hadn’t planned to have Willow go with her to see Mimi so that Willow would be a buffer person between Darcy and Clive. But that’s how it would work, and Darcy was glad.

“Why don’t we call Susan and ask her to visit Mimi with us,” Willow suggested.

“Willow, you’re a genius.”

Willow was already punching Susan’s number in her phone.

“Hi, Susan, it’s Willow. Oh, no, everything’s okay, well, not everything— What? Oh, that’s because I’m walking fast. I’m with Darcy. We’re coming home from the library. I’m supposed to read to Mimi, but Darcy saw Mimi yesterday. She’s sick. Not Darcy, Mimi. Just a summer cold. Right. Right. Anyway, Darcy and I are going to stop in at Mimi’s and we thought it would be nice if you could, too. Sort of cheer her up? Darcy said Mimi might still be in bed, but— Really? That would be a brilliant idea. See you in a minute.”

Darcy asked, “What did she say?”

“She’s just finished making chocolate chip cookies. She said she’ll make a pitcher of lemonade and bring that over with some cookies.”

“What about her boys?”

“She said they’re watching television, and her husband is there—she can leave them for a while.”

“Well done, Willow.”

“I feel like Nancy Drew.” Willow laughed happily and took Darcy’s hand as they turned off Main onto Pine Street.

Willow’s hand. Darcy wished she had a daughter of her own. No, she wished Willow were her daughter, but that was a ridiculous thought. Willow wasn’t even her ex-husband’s daughter, she was Darcy’s ex-husband’s stepdaughter. If Willow were Darcy’s daughter, that would mean that Darcy had gotten pregnant with her fifteen years ago. When Darcy was fifteen.

Oh, what a troublemaker love was! And there were so many kinds of love. Darcy had loved her grandmother. She had thought she loved Boyz, but her divorce had been an astonishing relief. She loved Jordan like crazy; Jordan was her very best friend. She had been afraid to admit how she felt about Nash because it might cause pain, but she had admitted it, and it had caused pain—she completely, furiously, helplessly, loved Nash. Although right now she wanted to throw a pot at him for being so obstinate about one ridiculous kiss.

And she loved Mimi. Why was that? Why did love happen like that, so fast, at first sight, so powerful it came as a recognition: This person is mine.

Darcy had met scores of older women, sweet grandmothers; kind older women; chic, witty older women here on the island, at the library, or in the women’s chorus. She liked them, she enjoyed knowing them, but she hadn’t felt that instinctive rapport when she first saw them. She liked Susan Brueckner and felt sympathetic toward her. She even liked Autumn and kind of admired her.

She was so fond of Willow. She felt connected to Willow.

And as if a flower were opening its petals, the knowledge unfolded in Darcy’s heart that the love she felt for Nash had opened her to the possibility of caring for—really connecting with—other people, even those who were in her life for only a short while.

And sometimes that would hurt. And sometimes it would be wonderful.

“Come on!” Willow tugged on Darcy’s hand. “There’s Susan.” She dropped Darcy’s hand and raced to the front door of Mimi’s house.

“Hi,” Darcy called, joining Willow and Susan. “Go ahead and knock, Willow.”

Willow knocked. They heard footsteps. Clive opened the door. Darcy was glad to have Willow and Susan standing between her and him.

“Hello,” Darcy said. “We’re the committee for the rehabilitation of grandmothers with summer colds.”

Clive smiled. “What a coincidence. I happen to have one of those.”

He held the door wide and they filed in, past the front parlor, and down the hall to Mimi’s bedroom.

Mimi seemed better today. She was sitting up in bed, propped by dozens of pillows, with her glasses on and a book in her hands.

“Thank God!” she cried when she saw them. “I am bored silly!”

“I brought cookies,” Susan told her. “And lemonade.”

“Darling,” Mimi said to Clive, “would you be kind enough to bring us some glasses, and also that handsome bottle of Grey Goose vodka?”

Clive crossed his arms over his chest. “Mimi. You’re ill. Vodka is not on the list of drinks for elderly invalids.”

“I’ll just pour a soup?on in my lemonade,” Mimi told him. “Besides, the others might want some. Not you, of course, Willow. Come closer, darlings, I can’t see you when you’re so far away. I’m not contagious anymore. This damned cold is almost done with me.”

Susan pushed the armchair closer to Mimi’s bed. Darcy crossed the hall and brought in a chair from the dining room. Willow perched on the end of Mimi’s bed.

“Tell me everything!” Mimi requested. “What’s been going on?”

Darcy couldn’t restrain herself from exchanging a glance with Willow. For a moment, she regretted inviting Susan over. With Susan there, Darcy and Willow couldn’t tell Mimi about Autumn’s dining room table escapade with Susan’s husband, and Darcy couldn’t ask Mimi for advice about telling Susan.

Darcy also couldn’t ask Mimi for advice about Nash.

As she passed the cookies, Susan said, “I’m working at the yarn store three evenings a week, Mimi, and Otto’s been a champion about it. Well, that’s because we’ve got Willow to babysit the boys. So I’ve learned a lot about myself this summer. And when we go home, after I get the boys settled in school, I’m going to find myself a job in a shop in my neighborhood.”

“When are you going home?” Mimi asked.

“In about a week.” Susan prattled on about the trials of packing for five people, and using up everything in the cupboards and fridges.

“Yeah,” Willow said. “Boyz said we’re going home soon, too.”

It was as if the floor dropped right out from under Darcy.

Susan was going home.

Willow was going home.

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