The Bookstore on the Beach - Brenda Novak Page 0,14
life you were living before he went missing. She can give one of those things back to you, if she lets go of the other.”
Taylor walked to the window and gazed out for a long time. “Have you ever felt so helpless you wanted to rant and rave and tear everything apart around you?”
Mary was thinking about her own nightmare—not the one that had awakened her tonight but the one she’d lived through at twelve years old—when she went over and pulled her granddaughter in for a hug. “Absolutely.”
“How did you get through it?”
“I decided I wasn’t going to let anything destroy me.”
Taylor pulled back to look at her. “And that worked?”
Mary cupped her cheek. “Sometimes determination is all we have.”
* * *
Autumn slept in for the first time in ages. With her kids having finals and the many events involved in ending the school year, they’d all been especially busy. She’d just come off several weeks of early mornings to go with her late nights, so although she’d slept until ten, she was still too tired to drag herself out of bed. It was a relief to know that her mother was with her children. Even if she didn’t go in right away, they’d be greeted with a smile and offered something to eat. Coming home meant she had some support. She could always count on her mother, and she was eternally grateful for that.
She told herself she’d walk over to the house in a few minutes. She wanted to lie in bed, hearing nothing and feeling no pressure, for just a little longer. But she fell back to sleep, and it was after noon when she stirred again. She might’ve continued to nap the day away except she heard footsteps on the stairs coming up to her room.
“Hello?” she called out and shoved both pillows against the headboard so that she could sit up and lean against them.
Her mother appeared, carrying a tray of food. “You’re still in bed?” she asked in surprise. “Should I come back later? I thought you might like something to eat.”
“No need to leave. I am hungry. But you could’ve called, and I would’ve come in. You didn’t have to bring breakfast all the way out here.”
“I don’t mind. I bought this little tray at an antiques shop not long ago and wanted to use it. Isn’t it cute?”
The white wicker tray held a china teapot and teacup with sugar and cream as well as a plate with a metal cover to keep whatever her mother had made warm.
“This is fancy.” There was even a vase filled with roses and the local newspaper had been tucked into one of the side receptacles.
After settling the tray over Autumn’s lap, Mary went to open the drapes.
Sunlight flooded the room, and Autumn closed her eyes and turned her face eagerly toward it. She felt as though she was rising from the dead—coming back to life after a long, dark period during which she hadn’t even noticed if the weather was good.
“It’s a beautiful day,” her mother commented.
“I love summers here.” Drawing a cleansing breath, Autumn opened her eyes and took the embroidered cloth napkin off the tray. Mary put such a nice touch on everything. Autumn was less whimsical and more practical in her approach to life. She was all about getting things done. But maybe that was why she admired her mother’s careful attention to beauty and detail. Coming to stay in Sable Beach was almost like visiting a bed-and-breakfast. She’d been so busy being a responsible mother to her own children she’d forgotten how wonderful it was to be her mother’s child—which, once again, brought a wave of guilt for wanting to find her father. Searching for him would feel so disloyal, which was why she hadn’t done it yet.
“Why aren’t you at the bookstore? I’m not keeping you from work, am I?”
“No. Laurie insisted I take the day off to spend with the three of you.”
“Where are the kids?”
“Taylor’s reading on the couch, and Caden’s already down at the beach.”
“Without you there to save him from drowning?” she asked wryly.
A scowl indicated her mother wasn’t amused. “I offered to go watch him swim, and he laughed at me. He said he can’t take me with him every time he goes to the beach or there wouldn’t be a girl within fifty miles of here who’d even look at him.”
Autumn lifted the lid off her plate to reveal her mother’s sourdough waffles with fresh-cut