Sunset on Moonlight Beach - Sheila Roberts Page 0,69

and Jenna and Mel and Celeste had worked together to prepare a feast. If a table really could groan, their dining table would have. It was loaded with platters of cold cuts and cheese, bread and condiments, fruit, veggies and dip, chips, and, of course, Aunt Edie’s cookies. A punch bowl sat at one end, and on the other end was a basket with graduation cards that were probably stuffed with money and gift cards.

All their friends came and the living room was packed. Damien and his parents came, too. Jenna was polite to her former in-laws and civil to him. She was delighted that they didn’t stay more than half an hour. That was hardly surprising, as Damien couldn’t long endure being at a function where he wasn’t the center of attention.

He’d gifted Sabrina with a work of art he’d made specially for her (and specially to show himself off). It was a sculpture of a woman created from nuts and bolts and silverware. Her hair had been formed from springs and her metal arms were lifted, reaching for the sky.

“I call it Transition,” he’d said to Sabrina when he presented it to her.

“I call it tacky,” Jenna had said to Celeste as he took his bow and departed.

“He probably will be famous someday,” she’d replied.

“Maybe. For sure he’ll never say, ‘I owe my success to my ex-wife who footed the bill for years so I could play with garbage.’”

Oh, well. He was gone. Let the fun begin.

It did. Celeste had written a poem she titled “Ode to the Graduate,” which listed all the important things Sabrina would miss such as homework and boring teachers. “And now she goes forth, her future sunny. I hope you all gave her lots of money,” Celeste concluded, which made everyone laugh. “Seriously, I know my amazing niece will go on to do great things,” she said. “Of course, that’s what everyone says about graduates. But in Sabrina’s case it’s true. All the journaling you’ve been doing, I’m sure you’re going to go on to become a famous writer.”

“Maybe I’ll write about you and Mom,” Sabrina said to her.

“Oh, Lord, I hope not,” Jenna said.

Nora produced a huge ice cream cake, her gift to the graduate, and put Sabrina to work cutting it. The attentive silence ended, and the guests began to chat.

“Good turnout,” Seth said to Jenna as they stood watching Brody take a piece of cake to Aunt Edie, who was feeling tired and had settled on the couch. “Thanks for inviting me to the ceremony.”

“Sabrina loves you. You’re like one of the family,” Jenna said.

“A distant cousin?”

She made a face. “Let’s not use the word cousin. It only makes me think of my cousin, Winston.”

“Who, I take it, was not invited.”

“He wouldn’t have come, anyway. There’s nothing in it for him.”

“Such a cynic,” Seth teased.

“No, a realist.”

He nodded to where Aunt Edie sat. “Your aunt looks pooped.”

Jenna sighed. “She’s really been slowing down this last year. She tires so easily. I wish I could get her to do less.”

“Good luck with that.”

“She was out of breath after climbing the stairs at the stadium,” Jenna said.

“So was I.”

“I wonder if I should take her to the doctor. She’s not fond of getting checkups. But she really should go. In fact, I’m thinking we should talk to him together. I don’t even know for sure what meds he’s got her on, if any.”

Jenna remembered the doctor asking Aunt Edie if she was taking her aspirin on the home visit he’d paid back when she’d given Jenna a scare. Was she still taking it? Should the doctor prescribe something stronger? For all Jenna knew, maybe he had.

Seth shook his head. “Like I said, good luck.”

Good luck was right. When it came to her health, Aunt Edie was tight-lipped.

After the fun and frivolity was over and Sabrina was off partying with her friends, Jenna tippy-toed up to the subject.

“You look awfully tired, Auntie,” she said.

“I am,” Aunt Edie admitted, and heaved a sigh.

“You know, I was thinking. It’s been a while since you’ve been to see Dr. Fielding.”

“And it’s going to be a while,” Aunt Edie said firmly.

Jenna tried again. “It might be time for a checkup though. I could go with you.”

Aunt Edie frowned at her. “Jenna, I’m not a child and I can certainly go to the doctor by myself.”

“I just thought...” Hmm. How to phrase it so as not to alarm her aunt?

“I know what you thought. You’re worried. But there’s