Page 5 of The Summer We Made Promises (The Destin Diaries #3)

Nolie grinned. “So she fertilizes,” she whispered, sharing their little inside joke.

Maggie leaned forward and kissed her granddaughter, nothing but love in her heart. “And come back here soon. Because I will miss you and Pitty terribly.”

The little dog came trotting over, wanting to get in the middle of the love.

“Will you do me a favor and take her out now?” Maggie asked.

“Yes, of course! Am I done packing, Mommy?”

“You are,” Crista said. “Take one more beach walk with Aunt Pittypat and hurry back. We’ll eat and hit the road. Do not go far, Nolie. Just to the bottom of the boardwalk.”

“Okay! C’mon, Pitty!”

The two of them darted out and Crista watched them go, sighing as she faced Maggie.

“Now you can tell me,” Crista said. “How did it go with Peter?”

“Oh, fine, I suppose. I just want to get to the bottom of it and…” She shook her head. “Listen, I have a favor. There’s a box in the attic loft that has some of your father’s things in it. A metal strongbox, rather sizeable. I need it.”

“Can I ship it?”

And risk losing whatever might be in it? Maggie shook her head. “Just bring it next time you come down, or give it to Eli if he makes the trip.”

“Sure,” she agreed, perching on the edge of the bed, a little paler than usual.

Maggie leaned forward, still not used to the shocking news that forty-three-year-old Crista was pregnant with her second child. “How are you feeling?”

Crista hesitated before answering. “Exhausted. Nauseous. Emotional, apparently. I’ve had, you know, crying spells.”

Maggie snorted. “You? Tears?”

Crista huffed a weak laugh. “I had been doing better at controlling my emotions, then along came a hormone overload and…” She shrugged. “I’m crying a lot. I certainly cried when I lied to you. I’m still very sorry, Mama.”

Maggie didn’t respond immediately. She had been wounded by the lie when Crista told her she was in Atlanta but was really here—with Tessa Wylie tutoring Nolie.

But, since then, she’d seen a marked change in her dyslexic granddaughter. She begrudgingly approved of Crista’s decision to get help from an unconventional source. Because of Tessa, who was dyslexic herself, Nolie would surely pass the exam she needed to move up to third grade.

“I understand why you did what you did, Crista,” she finally said.

Crista sighed, clearly repentant for her lie. But there was more to that sigh…because they had to talk about the obvious change a baby meant.

Never one to beat around a bush, Maggie started the conversation. “You’ll need my bedroom,” she said.

A look of something like fear and surprise flashed in her eyes.

“Oh, Mama. Not for a while. We’ll put the baby in our room for the first six months, then he or she can share with Nolie.

Then we can do something with Anthony’s office…

” Her voice faded, along with her insistence and enthusiasm.

“It will be different,” she added softly. “And…and…”

“And crowded,” Maggie finished for her. “I don’t want to be an intrusion, Crista. I have never wanted that.”

“I know! You aren’t!”

“You and Anthony have been very generous, letting me live with you these past few years.” Maggie smoothed her linen slacks, not meeting Crista’s gaze. “But the baby might mean…we live differently.”

Crista frowned, her silence proof that Maggie’s suspicions were accurate. Crista and Anthony had talked about this.

“You deserve this time alone as a family,” Maggie said.

For a long moment, Crista just stared at her, and try as she might to hide it, Maggie could see relief in her daughter’s eyes.

“After all this is over…” Maggie waved in the general direction of the house and beach. “I’ll figure something out.”

“I love having you live with us and we’ll need help, believe me. But if you…”

Maggie held up her hand. “I’m fine. You just grow your little baby, because nothing makes me happier than a grandchild.”

Crista reached out to hug Maggie. “Oh, Mama. I feel bad. I feel like I’m letting you down. I hate that.”

“Not at all,” she said, sounding far more certain of her future than she felt. “You finish packing now. I’m going to say goodbye to Pittypat.”

“Are you sure you want us to take her back, Mama? That dog gives you such joy.”

“She gives Nolie joy, too.” She put her hands on the armrests and pushed up. “I have enough on my plate while I’m here.”

“Thank you,” Crista whispered as she stood. “I appreciate…”

Maggie just smiled as she walked to the door, then glanced over her shoulder. “See? I’m not the ogre you all make me out to be.”

She didn’t wait for Crista’s heartfelt denial, but headed downstairs. A few minutes later, she walked down the long boardwalk that crossed the dunes and led to the beach. May was a gorgeous month here, she thought, turning her face to the sun.

She didn’t care about an age spot or two now, letting the sunlight warm her and the faint salt-scented breeze lift her heart. She caught sight of Nolie and Pittypat right at the end of the boardwalk, playing in the sand.

For a moment, she was taken back decades in time. She could see Crista, her baby, playing in the sunshine. The teenagers would have been out on their boogie boards, with Tessa’s infernal boombox screaming about walking on sunshine.

The memories were shockingly clear, as though they happened yesterday.

Roger and Artie would be out fishing on the boat and Jo inside, planning what they would make for dinner.

Easy days. Lazy nights. True friendship…until a traitor ruined it all.

Would having the answers to why Artie made that choice change anything? It wouldn’t bring Roger back. Nor would it change his bad, bad choices. But maybe it would…heal people.

She’d never admit it but…wasn’t that what she really wanted? For her poor children to be able to somehow let go of the anchor of shame that Roger hung around their necks?

And while that was happening, …maybe she could stop being such a raging shrew. Maybe she could let go of the anger and resentment that she had toward Roger and Artie and the courts that took all they had.

Was she too old to change? She was here in Destin, where she’d once been a carefree young mother. Maybe the sunshine and air and waves could soften this bitter old crone one more time.

Nolie came tearing up the boardwalk toward her, arms out, with Pittypat keeping pace and kicking up sand.

Her heart shifted so much she could feel it in her chest. An ache, a pressure, a literal punch of love.

And a reminder that it wasn’t the air or water or sun that changed a person in Destin. It was family and laughter and friends.

Could that happen again? She didn’t know, but deep inside, she hoped so.