Page 11 of The Summer Club

“Never. You’re always welcome here.”

Charley intervened. “Mother, may I take your shawl?” They watched as Charley lifted the rich shawl from her narrow shoulders.

“Let me help you with your purse,” Cora offered, extending her hand.

Tish clutched it as though Cora were an armed robber.

“I guess you’d like to keep it.” Cora clasped her hands, the ruby ring spinning beneath her fingertips.

“Well.” Tish turned her attention to the house, her eyes traveling over the deep goose-down recesses of the blue couches, the seagrass rug, the stone fireplace. The mantelpiece filled with collected shells and bits of sea glass. The farmhouse kitchen they’d expanded ten years earlier and redone in a palate of creamy white cupboards and butcher block countertops, where the chowder still bubbled on the stove. Cora could tell she hated every inch of it.

“Well. I see you’ve done a lot with the place.” She sniffed and crossed her arms. “If my Morty could see it now…”

Hugh clapped his hands. “Who would like wine before dinner?”

Dinner was served on the patio. Just as Cora wished. They took their seats, Tish draping her purse over the back of her own. The chowder was a pot of summer perfection, a thick, creamy concoction teeming with fresh clams and potatoes that melted on the tongue. Cora watched as everyone at the table spooned generous ladlefuls into their bowls. From his end of the table, Charley smiled at her over his steaming bowl. “Honey, you’ve outdone yourself.”

“Thank you,” she said, noting that Tish’s bowl remained untouched. Her salad plate held a few sprigs of undressed greens.

“Tish, would you like some salad dressing?” She held up the bottle of homemade dressing she’d shaken that morning.

“It’s really good!” Andi rushed to fill in. “Mom makes her own with olive oil and herbs from the garden.”

They all watched as their grandmother cast a baleful glance in the direction of the garden. “Is that what we’re calling it?” She turned to Charley and lay a hand on her son’s arm. “Silly me. I was going to tell you that your landscaper missed a patch of weeds.”

“Now, Mother.”

Cora set the dressing bottle down and shoved a spoonful of chowder into her mouth. She would not comment. She would not watch as her mother-in-law inspected her plate as if it were poison. If Tish starved that was not her problem.

“So how are you, Tish?” Hugh was always to be counted on for steering conversations and lightening the mood. “Any interesting travels of late?”

“Well!” Tish sat back in her chair and held out both hands. “I had the most divine time in Marrakesh.” How she loved to be the center of attention. The table listened enthusiastically as Tish regaled them.

“Did you ride any camels?” Andi asked when she finally concluded.

“Camels?” Tish blinked. “I did not travel all that way for a circus ride.” Then, smiling tightly, she said, “My dear, you need to travel more. Like Sydney! Now tell us where you and Jeff are going on your honeymoon!” She turned dramatically to her youngest grandchild.

“James,” Sydney corrected shyly.

Andi shot her mother a look and shrugged as Sydney launched into her honeymoon itinerary.

Tish had always been harder on Andi and Hugh and easiest on Sydney. Even though they were all adults, it caused a wave of maternal protectiveness to rise up inside Cora each time Tish demonstrated favoritism.

Cora reached for the bottle of Riesling. She never had more than one glass. Ever. And there was the matter of the previous gin and tonics… but she could not sit still another moment waiting for Tish to drop her bomb. How long was she staying? Was she staying with them? She was up to something.

But Tish did not say. Bowls and plates were cleared. Coffee was brewed, a blueberry pie brought to the table. And all the while Tish sat with her empty stomach and smug expression, eyes trained on her son and grandchildren, pointedly fixed away from Cora. That was just fine with her.

When the last drop of coffee had been drained from its cup, Charley sat back in his chair and rescued them all. “So, Mother. To what do we owe this surprise visit?”

Tish removed her napkin from her lap and reached around her seat for her purse. “I come bearing a gift. For the bride-to-be.”

They all watched as she unzipped the purse and retrieved an envelope. “I know the wedding is still a few weeks away, but I want you to have this now.” She held the envelope out.

Sydney accepted it and looked around, her cheeks flushing with wine and cheer. “Wow. Thank you, Tish.”

Tish’s eyes crinkled. “You don’t even know what it is.”

“Still.” Sydney glanced at the envelope in her hands, smiling. “It’s very kind of you to come all this way to deliver it.”