Page 21 of The Summer Club
Cora and Martin exchanged looks and she sat back down. How much longer should she sit and wait? As long as it takes, she decided.
The only sound in the kitchen was that of Hugh’s spoon clanging against his mug as he stirred in cream. Then the patio screen door slapped shut behind him.
When Andi finally joined them, she was with Molly, which changed her whole plan. Cora didn’t want to discuss this in front of her granddaughter. Lord only knew what the child thought at this point. Instead, she leapt up and got to work on her famous pancakes, grateful for a job. At least Molly would eat them.
Molly plunked herself down in Cora’s free seat with a cup of coffee and began dumping copious amounts of sugar into it, straight from the bowl. “Excuse me,” Andi said, reaching for the mug. “No caffeine, kiddo. It stunts your growth.”
But when Molly glared, she let go. “Fine. You’ll wish you listened to me when you can’t reach the top shelf in the grocery store.”
Molly shrugged. “I’ll have my groceries delivered. Amazon.”
It was the first time anyone smiled since last night.
Cora got busy on her traditional first-morning spread, as the others took seats in locations as far away from one another and from her as they could. Andi on the living room couch. Hugh on the patio. Sydney at the kitchen table. Cora ignored this, and went to work without their help: fresh slices of cantaloupe. Platters of blueberry pancakes, with fresh berries she’d sent Charley to fetch from the farm up the street, before the kids arrived. A sizzling tray of thick Canadian bacon. “Breakfast!” she hollered when it was done and, to her immense relief, everyone stirred. Even Hugh came in when the smell of bacon wafted out to the patio.
She watched with no small amount of satisfaction as they gathered around the butcher block island and picked up plates. Hugh grumbled at Andi when she cut in front of him. Martin passed out forks. Molly came back for seconds. All right, Cora thought. We will be all right.
When Molly’s phone buzzed and she dashed back upstairs to FaceTime with a friend, Cora seized the opportunity. “Look,” she said as her kids sat down to eat, “I know last night was a shock. And we have some talking to do. But today”—she gestured to the bay window—“is our first beach day. Can we at least go sit on the beach and get our toes in the sand? It will be good for us.” She glanced longingly out the window once more. It was the perfect beach day and she would not let Tish or her own mistakes rob them of that.
Andi set her fork down on her plate with an audible clink. “Mom, I don’t know about everyone else, but I’m still in a daze from last night.”
“I know,” Cora said. “I cannot imagine.”
“No. You can’t.” Hugh said, bitterly. “Andi and I were just told we’re only halfway part of this family and you’re worried about good beach weather?”
Cora shook her head. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean? Because I’m wondering if I should pack my things and go back to Boston. Or, I don’t know… maybe start looking for my real father?”
“What? No!” Sydney cried. “You can’t go home. We need to work this out. And what about…?”
“Your wedding?” Hugh shook his head. “You’re as bad as Mom.”
“That’s not what I was going to say!”
Cora held up her hands. “Please, stop. We need to at least talk more about this,” she implored. “There are things you don’t know.”
“Is there more?” Hugh scoffed. “Are you not our mother?”
“Hugh,” Martin interjected. “Not helping.”
“Yeah,” Andi echoed. “Come on.”
But Hugh was still as riled as he’d been the night before. “What? Mom needs to hear this. Just because she was silent for forty-plus years doesn’t mean we have to be. This is crazy.” He stood, set his untouched plate down on the butcher block island with a clatter and headed for the door. “I’m going for a run. I can’t think here.”
Cora’s hands fluttered uselessly at her sides, but she did not try to stop him. At least he wasn’t getting in the car to go home.
Martin turned to her. “Let him go. He needs to burn off some stress.”
And just like that they all disappeared. Andi upstairs, ostensibly to shower, which made no sense to Cora if they were supposedly headed to the beach, but Cora kept her mouth shut. Sydney to change into her bathing suit, thankfully. Martin, to make a work call.
Finally, Charley came downstairs. He looked around the kitchen at the scattered mugs and half-filled plates. The butcher block island full of pans and trays. “What happened here?”
“You slept late,” she said, turning to the coffee maker.
“Sorry, honey. I was up and down all night.” She knew; she’d been too. “Where is everyone?”
“Getting ready for the beach,” Cora told him, though she had no idea if that were true. It didn’t matter. If they packed the picnic and gathered the beach chairs, they would come. They had to, she told herself as she began collecting breakfast dishes and setting them in the sink.