Page 13 of The Summer Club

Cora felt the wind rush from her lungs. She gripped the edge of the table.

Charley leapt up, his chair scraping roughly across the patio stone. “Mother, I would like to speak with you. Right now.”

“What’s happening?” Andi asked, looking up and down the table. She put a hand on Molly’s back protectively. Cora could understand why. How she wanted to put a hand on each one of her children, right now. But Cora could not speak. Her voice was gone with her breath.

Tish cleared her throat and like a bad storm, a March wind, a madman, went on, “Which is why, after all these years, it has unfortunately been left to me to clear the air.”

“What air?” Hugh asked, glancing between his parents.

“Mother!” Charley snapped.

“My dear child,” Tish said, eyes on Sydney, as if she were the only person at the table. “I wish you a long and happy marriage. The first of which I did not have, but the latter I certainly did. And my gift to you is this house.”

Sydney’s mouth fell open. She shook her head. “For me?”

“For you. The true heir to the Darling family.”

Hugh grabbed Cora’s hand. “Mom? What is she talking about?”

In slow motion Cora lifted her face. To Charley, whose own was red, his expression ragged. To Molly and Andi, who were staring back at her in confusion. Then to Hugh, whose eyes were already filling.

“Mom,” he hissed almost inaudibly. “What does she mean, true Darling heir?”

From the corner of her eye, Cora saw Tish pull her purse over her shoulder and blow a kiss to Sydney. She caught the rush of bright red, the flurry of the caftan’s silk as she passed. Charley was right behind her.

Cora closed her eyes as the table before her tumbled into chaos. Her table, of her people.

Tish Darling had finally gone and done it. After all these years.

Cora would not wait for Charley to come back outside. Poor Charley, who’d stood beside her all these years. Faithful in his silence. This was hers to bear.

Steadying herself, Cora rose. “Children, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Andi

Andi took the stairs to her bedroom two at a time on tiptoe, so no one else would hear her. At the landing she stopped, holding on to the railing as she caught her breath. She still could not believe it. She needed a minute to herself.

“Mom?” Molly called down the hallway. “C’mere.” Andi couldn’t help but smile; Molly could always sense her presence.

“Are you okay?” Molly called out.

Andi stopped at the door and forced a smile. “I’m fine, honey.”

From the look on her face, Molly knew better. “Mom. This is all so screwed up.”

Andi leaned against the doorframe. “I know.”

“So Grampa isn’t really my grandfather?”

This was exactly what Andi had not wanted Molly to take away from it. The kid was still reeling from her family’s divorce. Now she had to question her grandparents too?

“No, no. Don’t think of it like that. Please.” She went to sit on the edge of Molly’s bed. The look on Molly’s face spelled out everything her head was swarming with: confusion, wariness, fear. “Grampa is still your Grampa. Just like he’s still my dad.”

“But not by blood.”

Hearing the words come out of her daughter’s mouth drove it straight into her chest.

“It’s okay, Mom.” Molly leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her and Andi caved to the tears.