the trees Maeve had dreamed about all these years.
James came back and gave Amanda the key. “Here you go. Are we ready for the main event?”
“So ready,” Maeve said.
The driver headed through town. It wasn’t long before the privacy window lowered again. “Almost there.”
“I’ve got my camera so we can take some pictures,” Amanda said.
“I’m not taking any,” Maeve said. “You take all the photos you want. I want to experience it and be present in the moment.”
“We’re now entering Boone Hall Plantation,” the driver announced. “Almost three-quarters of a mile of these trees and Spanish moss.” He opened the sunroof and slowed the car to a crawl.
Maeve rolled down the window, marveling at the site. “It’s more beautiful than I dreamed.”
“Can you pull over and stop the car?” Amanda asked.
“Sure.”
When James pulled over and put the car in park, Amanda took Maeve’s hand. “Come. Stand up with me.”
Maeve climbed to her feet, and they stood with their heads out the top of the limo. Maeve reached up, her fingers grazing the dripping moss hanging like an old man’s beard. “It’s amazing.”
They spent an hour enjoying the lane leading to the plantation, all from the comfort of the limousine. Amanda took a ton of pictures. Just as much for her as for Maeve, though.
“This is the neatest place I didn’t know I wanted to see,” Amanda said.
“Thank you,” Maeve said. “It’s even better than I dreamed.”
“Would you like to see the plantation?” Amanda asked. “They have a butterfly garden and all kinds of historical things here.”
“No, I really don’t.” Maeve shook her head thoughtfully. “This is the one thing I wanted to see, and I don’t want anything else to land on top of this memory.”
“Fair enough.” She looked at Maeve. “Do you want to say it?”
Maeve looked questioningly at her, then started to laugh. “Oh, I do! Home, James!”
James announced a couple of other landmarks as they headed back, such as a tree that was estimated to be more than four hundred years old, and he also offered a colorful history lesson as they cruised down Rainbow Row on their way back to the hotel.
“The houses here on Rainbow Row were built in the seventeen hundreds. Originally, all of them were painted pink, but there are many rumors about how the rainbow of pastel houses came to be. One story—my personal favorite—is that the different colors helped drunken sailors identify which house they were to bunk in,” James explained. “It’s the longest cluster of Georgian row houses in the country and said to be the most photographed spot in the fair city of Charleston.”
“My goodness. And people think the beach houses on Whelk’s Island are colorful. We have nothing on these folks!” Maeve exclaimed.
“It’s cheerful. I kind of like it.” Amanda snapped a picture to share with Hailey. This would be right up her alley.
James pulled in front of the inn and got a cart so Amanda and Maeve could take the coolers and their overnight cases upstairs. He had the room across the hall, and the plan was to be ready at eight in the morning to head to Macon. “I’ll take this up for you rather than calling the bellhop.”
“Thank you, James.”
Amanda was grateful she didn’t have to navigate the luggage cart, as James himself seemed to be having trouble with it, and he was a big guy. She opened the door to their room and let Maeve go in first. She couldn’t wait to hear her reaction. “Amanda!”
She stepped in behind Maeve.
“I’ve never stayed anywhere so opulent. This was not necessary. We could have spent the night at a little beach inn and I’d have been fine.”
“No way. This is a girls’ road trip. We have to do girlie, fun things. We deserve some pampering.”
Maeve walked over to the huge oak armoire against the wall and opened one of the doors. “Look at these robes.” She squeezed the fabric between her hands. “They’re so soft.”
“Those are for us.”
“If it’s okay with you, I’d rather eat whatever Tug sent along for us, put on our nightgowns, and call it an early night.”
“Works for me.” Amanda went to the bathroom to wash her face. When she finished, Maeve already had dinner set out for them. The aroma of home cooking filled the room. “That smells good.”
“It’s still warm too.” Maeve picked up a fork and knife. “He even sent us real silverware.”
“Nice touch.” She sat in the chair across from Maeve.
“Fried pork tenderloin, one of