Page 10 of The Summer Club
But it was more than that. Tish was strategic. Always asking Cora when she was going to get her hair done (the very day she’d had it cut and colored, at no small expense!), why she’d felt compelled to purchase a sofa in that color (a perfectly harmless hunter green that Charley had, in fact, picked out), or where on earth was the copper dragon sculpture she’d sent them from Tibet that one Easter? (It was in the basement, where the garish thing damn well belonged!) The thing was, Cora knew that Tish already had the answers to all these questions (and also that Tish probably hated that copper dragon even more than Cora did). That was the point.
Now she caught herself twisting the ruby ring that Charley had given her the day he proposed and made herself stop. The ring was a whole other problem. It was a family heirloom, belonging at one time to Charley’s grandmother. Instead of being handed down to Tish, which had apparently been expected, the ring had been gifted to Charley for safekeeping until he met the person he wanted to marry. How Cora loved that story; that his grandmother had faith Charley would find someone. And that Charley had saved it until he found her. But it was no secret that Tish had wanted that ring for herself. Over time, she might have gotten over the fact that she did not receive it; but what she could not get over was who did.
Cora had overheard the ugly conversation with her own ears. Charley had recently proposed and then brought Cora home to share the good news with his parents. Before he could tell them, Tish, suspecting something was going on, had pulled her son into her parlor room and shut the French doors, leaving Cora alone in the hall. There was a scuffle of chair legs on hardwood floors. Hushed whispers, followed by a gasp. And then the hiss of words she would never forget: “Anyone but her.”
Now Cora glanced out the window at the empty driveway and forced a smile. “Let’s go downstairs and make the place presentable.” Which would be impossible, even if they had a cleaning service, valet parking, and a private chef. Tish hated sharing any space occupied by Cora. Nonetheless, she went downstairs, Charley on her heels.
The family was already gathered, as if on high alert, and busy helping with dinner, which was wholly unlike them. Cora wondered if this was Charley’s doing. Molly stood at the kitchen island, dragging chips through a bowl of the heirloom tomato salsa Cora had made earlier. It was a delicious recipe, straight from the backyard garden, but Cora was too nervous to eat. Instead, she planted a kiss on her granddaughter’s head and went to inspect the stovetop, where Martin was seasoning the clam chowder. All winter she looked forward to gathering her children and grandchild around the table at Riptide and sitting down to their first seafood dish of many to come during their reunion. Cooking, seafood, big family dinners: it’s what the week was all about. Only now there would be one more person at the table, and the very thought of the uninvited guest made her stomach turn.
“Here you go, Mom.” Martin held out a spoonful for her to taste. Perfection!
“Well. This is above and beyond.” How Cora loved that he called her “Mom.” And even more that he’d finished the chowder for her.
Hugh motioned for her to follow him out the back kitchen door to the patio. “You don’t have to lift a finger. We’re already setting the table.”
Outside, Sydney and Andi were putting the finishing touches on the picnic table. Cora watched as Sydney filled water glasses. Andi was busy arranging fresh-cut hydrangeas in a silver pitcher. Clearly, they could read her mood and she appreciated them taking over dinner. Even as adults, they seemed to view their vacation time at Riptide as just that: their vacation. Leaving her to do most of the cooking, cleaning, and general household work.
“Be sure to set an extra plate,” she told Sydney.
“Do we know yet where she’s staying?” Andi asked.
Cora lifted both hands in surrender. “Lord help us if she plans to stay here. There’s no room.”
Hugh chuckled. “In the house or your heart?”
“Very funny.”
“I can’t imagine she’s staying until the wedding,” Sydney said. “We’ve still got three weeks to go.”
“Tish never stays. She’s probably got plans for that date and is canceling on the wedding altogether. I’ll bet she drops off a gift and flies away.”
“Canceling?” Sydney’s blue eyes widened. “But we just finished the head count for the caterer.”
Everyone ignored this. Sydney had done nothing but worry out loud since they’d arrived and that likely wouldn’t change.
Martin had just poured and handed a glass of cool Riesling to Cora when the sound of a car door slamming in the driveway met their ears. Everyone froze. Even the birds on the patio seemed to still.
“She’s here!”
Charley poked his head out the screen door. “Yep. She’s here.”
Cora raked her hands through her hair and remained right where she was. “Well, someone better let her in.” She watched as Hugh followed his father. Then Martin and Sydney.
“You okay?” Andi asked, pausing in their wake.
“Go on,” Cora told her. “I’ll be right in.”
She could hear the exclamations and greetings. “How are you?… What a surprise!… Tish, you look amazing.” Cora took a deep breath and willed her heart to slow. Tish was a battle-ax and she was no shrinking violet. She would serve their annual first-night-of-vacation dinner just as she’d planned, whether Tish Darling stayed or not. The woman would not ruin tradition.
The moment the screen door slammed shut behind her, all heads turned to Cora and the children stepped back. There in their midst stood Tish, in a sweeping red-and-gold caftan. Looking every bit as glamorous and foreign among the rest of them as always. Cora would kill her with kindness.
“Hello, Tish.”
Her mother-in-law took a step toward her. “Hello, Cora.”
“What a surprise.”
Tish cocked her head. “Am I interrupting?”