Lolly lifted the chocolate chip–coated spatula from the batter and offered it to Arden to lick, just as she had always done when Arden was a little girl. Licking the spoon always made Arden feel better instantly.
Arden smiled at her mother’s offer, quickly grabbed the spatula, and walked to the kitchen sink. As she licked the spatula, she looked out at Lost Land coming awake. The waters were calm, the sun’s early morning light turning the lake alternating colors of brilliant blue and sea glass green. White swans floated on the surface, craning their necks as they swam, while sparrows dove like The Blue Angels around the lake.
Arden thought of her father and grandfather, and closed her eyes. When she opened them, her eyes were greeted by the warped wooden dock jutting into the lake.
So many memories—good, bad, happy, sad—on that little dock. It had, literally, been the jumping off place for my love of books, my love of writing.
Her mother’s charm bracelet jangled as she flipped the pancakes.
This is where my mother’s love of charms began, Arden thought.
“I’ve forgotten how beautiful it is here,” Arden sighed. “I’ve … well … I’ve just forgotten.”
Lolly smiled at her daughter, retrieving her own mug of coffee and refilling it.
“I’m glad you’re remembering as I’m starting to forget,” Lolly said. She hesitated but continued quietly, “You know, names slip me sometimes.”
Arden wrapped her arm around her mother’s waist. “I know, Mom.” She pulled her close. “I’ll always remember. I promise you. And I’ll always help you remember, too. Didn’t you say that we have to live in the moment? That’s all any of us can do, right?”
Lolly nodded.
“Well, then, I’ll finish the pancakes, if you make more coffee,” Arden said. “It won’t be pretty if Lauren wakes up without caffeine.”
Lolly smiled and hugged her daughter.
“Let me get a broom and dust pan first,” she said, looking down at the errant chocolate chips still scattered across the wood floor. “It won’t be pretty if she walks in without caffeine and thinks ants have invaded the cabin.”
The two laughed, and then mother and daughter finished making breakfast together.
Twenty-five
“I’m so glad you two decided to join me,” Lolly said, as the wind tossed tendrils of her blond beehive about her head wildly.
The Woodie’s windows were down, the wind whipping through the car as Lauren drove. “It’s going to be a madhouse in town, what with this perfect weather. I thought I’d go for Brigitte Bardot today,” Lolly laughed from the passenger seat, fussing with her wig.
“Who?” Lauren asked.
“Oh, that’s right,” Lolly said, looking at her granddaughter. “Wrong generation … by about four decades. I thought I’d look—what do you kids say today—very ‘retro.’”
Lauren laughed, nodding her appreciation. “YOLO, right, Grandma?”
“YOLO!” Lolly repeated, sticking her face out the window.
Memorial Day weather in Michigan was as unpredictable as a kitten. It could be sunny and seventies, or raw and rainy. Scoops had even experienced a handful of Memorial weekends where the angry skies spit snow, the coast refusing to let go of winter.
But today was perfection. And having her family here for the first time in ages made it even better for Lolly.
She pulled down the ancient visor in the Woodie and looked into the wavy mirror, more to steal a glance at Arden, reading emails in the backseat.
Lolly’s body suddenly ricocheted into the door, and Arden’s cell flew all the way from the backseat to the front seat.
“LAUREN!”
Lauren screamed and regained control of the Woodie, which had briefly gone off the side of the narrow two-lane road and skidded on gravel.
“Sorry,” she said, guiltily flipping up her own visor. “I thought I’d check my hair, too, since Grandma was. This steering wheel has a lot of play in it.”
“You have to keep a tight grip on the big wheel,” Lolly said, repositioning her granddaughter’s hands at “10” and “2,” their charm bracelets colliding. “It’s sorta like steering the space shuttle with a kite string.”
Arden shut her eyes and inhaled, willing her heart to slow. “Can you hand me my phone, please, Mom? It seems to have a mind of its own.”
Lolly retrieved the phone from the floorboard by her feet, and then slipped it into her purse.
“Hey! What are you doing?” Arden asked in a panic.
“Why are you working today?” Lolly asked. “It’s an official holiday.”
Lolly turned to look at her daughter. “You’re missing this gorgeous day by keeping your head down to read your emails. Those can wait. This,” Lolly said, gesturing with her hand out the window, “can’t. Remember what you said just this morning about how you’ve forgotten how beautiful it is here?”
Arden sighed and nodded. “You’re right, Mom.”
The Woodie passed a local tourism billboard featuring a woman reading a book on the beach.