The Summer's End (45 page)

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Authors: Mary Alice Monroe

BOOK: The Summer's End
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Mamaw thought that Imogene was beginning to slur her speech.

Imogene continued, leaning closer. “He repeats things. Or blurts out the strangest comments. Travel is out of the question. He gets lost at Greenfields Park. He could never navigate a strange area. And, he gets far too agitated away from home.” She paused, collecting herself. “Forgive me. I don't know what's come over me. Must be the heat. I didn't mean to go on and on.”

“Don't apologize,” Marietta said, feeling expansive. “Sometimes we need to let our thoughts out or it feels like we'll burst.”

“It does, doesn't it. I haven't been out much lately. Jeffrey and all.”

“It must be very difficult.”

“It is.” Imogene sniffed. “Jeffrey was always my rock. And now . . .”

“I do understand.” Marietta felt a bit teary herself. “Edward and I had such plans for when he retired. And then he passed. Heart attack.”

“I don't know which is harder to bear. A quick death or watching one dwindle.”

Marietta took a long drink of her tea, reflecting on that point. “I really don't know. Do you have help?”

Imogene nodded. “I have a nurse come by daily. And someone stays with him when I'm away, of course. But it's not the same as when I'm there. I calm him. As much as I'd like to stay, I must return.”

“Of course.” Mamaw patted Imogene's hand comfortingly.

“I had
dreams that Harper would return with me.” Imogene's smile was wistful. “It would have been comforting to have her with me now. It gets quite lonely rattling around alone in that big house. I'd hoped she'd eventually take over the estate. I wanted her to love Greenfields Park like she does Sea Breeze. But I think we both know the answer to that, don't we?” Imogene took another long sip of tea.

Marietta followed suit, sipping her tea and reserving comment.

“Selfish of me, I realize that now,” Imogene continued. “She's her own person. Capable of making her own decisions. For me to force the responsibilities of Greenfields Park on her by virtue of guilt would be to take advantage of her willing nature. I wouldn't want to do that to her.” Imogene brought her hand to her heart and her voice cracked. “I love Harper far too much to burden her in that way.”

Marietta felt her heart soften toward the woman and refreshed both of their glasses.

“This tea is growing on me with every sip. It has a bit of kick. What exactly is your secret ingredient?”

Marietta smiled mischievously. “Rum.”

“I knew there was something about it I liked.” Imogene laughed, then hiccuped. “Goodness, I'm feeling a bit tipsy.”

“I'm afraid we're both stewed.”

Imogene looked at Marietta and smiled ruefully. “You know, when I came here, I was prepared to dislike you. I thought you were trying to unload your burden of your house on Harper's shoulders.”

“Like you.”

Imogene shrugged and wagged a finger, the alcohol clearly taking effect. “I wasn't
going to let you get away with that.” She shrugged again. “I see now that I was mistaken. Harper's made her choice. She wants to live here.”

“What will become of Greenfields Park?”

“The writing is on the wall. Like you, Marietta, I've come to the realization that I can no longer manage it.” Imogene put her face in her palm. “As I must face the decision that I can no longer manage Jeffrey at home.” She dropped her palm. “When I get back, I shall have to find a suitable facility for him.” She was having a difficult time with her sibilant consonants. “And once I do . . .” She paused. “I guess I'll have to find a place for myself as well. It's time for me to move on.” She made a sailing motion with her hand.

Marietta laughed and raised her glass. “Here's to the future.”

The two women clinked glasses.

Marietta asked the question that had been niggling at her since Imogene's arrival. “What about your daughter? Doesn't she want the estate?”

“Georgiana? Good God, no. The last thing she wants is to be burdened by the responsibilities of Greenfields Park. Georgiana is all about her career.”

“Isn't there some uncle or nephew?”

“To do what?”

“To take over. You know. Inherit.”

Imogene tilted her head in thought. “Are you under the impression that Greenfields Park is a family estate? Generations of Jameses and all that?”

“Well, isn't it?”

Imogene laughed, high and trill. Mamaw couldn't help but laugh with her.

“No, not atall,”
she said with affectation, “Jeffrey and I bought the estate. And now”—Imogene raised her hands—“we'll sell it.” She leaned forward and waved Marietta closer as one telling a secret. “For a tidy profit, too.” Nodding, Imogene leaned back in her seat. “I'll be glad to be rid of it. I want to travel.”

“Do you?” Marietta leaned forward. “So do I!”

“Bora-Bora,” they said in unison.

Both women smiled and again clinked their glasses together.

Imogene smiled. “I think we're going to be great friends.”

“I do, too. We're a lot alike in some ways. We're both from another era,” Marietta said pensively.

“So true. These young women don't want to be saddled with large estates that demand all their time and attention. Besides, who can afford to maintain them?”

“Exactly.”

“Life seemed simpler when we were young,” Imogene said. “Though I admit, I've relaxed since I've been here. There's something sultry and seductive about this place.”

“It's the magic of the lowcountry. And the rum,” Marietta added conspiratorially.

Both women laughed.

Imogene picked up Marietta's fan. “May I?”

“Please.” Marietta gestured.

Imogene began fanning lazily. “You know, it's a wonderful thing you've done for your granddaughters. Bringing them all here to spend this time together. I can see how close they are. They're really quite devoted to one another.”

Marietta's breath caught at the power of that statement. “You can't know what that means to me to hear you say that. I was acting purely on instinct.
The girls had drifted so far apart. Not only in geography, but in their communication with one another. They'd become little more than strangers.”

“It happens in families. More often than not.”

“Then it's up to us to fix that. I've been accused of being controlling, of being a manipulator . . . more often by Harper, I might add. Truth be told, I didn't know what I was doing. But I had to do something. Felt it in every fiber of my being. Sea Breeze had to be sold. I couldn't change that. But even if my girls didn't have Sea Breeze, I wanted them to have each other.”

“You're a wonderful grandmother.” Imogene hiccuped.

Marietta removed her sunglasses and dabbed at her eyes with a paper napkin. “But I was not a wonderful mother. You met my son, Parker, didn't you?”

“Once. They were married and divorced so fast, you know. A handsome man.”

“He was, wasn't he?” Mamaw felt a twinge in her heart. “I mollycoddled him. The doctors today have a fancy new term for mothers like me.
Enablers.

Imogene scoffed and waved her hand dismissively. “Bollocks! Don't they just love to blame the mother. They said that about me, too. With Georgiana.”

“Really?”

“Indeed they did. Enable? Pshaw.” Imogene again waved her hand. “I'm ashamed to admit, I hardly knew what the girl was doing most of the time.”

Marietta burst out laughing, then covered her mouth. “Sorry.”

“But it was the way we were raised. Children were seen and not heard, eh?
I had a nanny for Georgiana, as Georgiana had for Harper. Of course,” Imogene said defensively, “I oversaw all things that concerned my daughter. Directly.”

“Well, you're a wonderful grandmother, too.” Marietta again patted Imogene's hand.

“I am,” Imogene staunchly agreed. “Harper is so easy to love.”

Marietta returned a watery smile. “She is.”

“What's going to happen to them, do you think? Harper and Taylor. Can he provide for her?”

“I believe he can. Not, perhaps, in the style she was raised, but comfortably. And more important, happily.”

“She truly loves this place, doesn't she?” Imogene's gaze traveled across the Cove, then to the house. “This Sea Breeze.”

“Yes, she does.”

“And it's a family home? Generations and all?” Imogene asked, referring to the question Marietta had asked earlier.

“Yes. Ask me sometime to tell you the story of the founding member of our family in Charleston.”

“The pirate, you mean?”

Marietta laughed lightly and wagged her brows. “Indeed.”

Imogene laughed, fanning herself rapidly.

They fell into a comfortable silence, each lost in her own thoughts.

“Have you sold the house?”

Marietta shook her head. “Not yet. We're in negotiations. In all honesty I'm dragging my feet. Devlin tells me sooner or later I have to bite the bullet and just accept an offer. They're all what he refers to as ‘good.'”

“Dora's Devlin?
He's
your real estate agent?”

“Yes.”

“Good God, Marietta, you're
putting your fortune in the hands of that redback?”

Marietta's laugh was hearty. “Don't let his good-ol'-boy mannerisms fool you. That boy is as sly as a fox in the henhouse when it comes to business.”

Imogene shifted the towel on her shoulders and didn't appear convinced. “So, the house is still for sale?”

Marietta had been bringing her glass to her mouth, but her hand stilled midair because of something in the way Imogene had asked that question.

Imogene removed her sunglasses and gave Marietta a look laden with import.

Marietta lowered the glass and straightened in her chair. “It is.”

“I see.” Imogene folded the fan in her hand with a snap. “Don't sell it.”

“Oh? And why not?”

“I'd like to buy it. Or rather, Harper will buy it.”

“Harper?”

“Eventually. I have to work out a few details yet. I will consult with my lawyers when I get back to England. But if this is what my granddaughter wants, enough that she is willing to throw away her fortune if she can't have it, then I will move a few mountains to make it happen.”

Mamaw drew a deep breath, a small flutter of hope in her chest. “But, Imogene, are you sure you want to sell Greenfields Park? To help Harper buy Sea Breeze?”

“Don't be balmy. I don't need to sell Greenfields Park. Let's just say that
Harper will be borrowing the money from me until she's thirty. She can repay me when she comes into her trust fund.”

“I thought . . .” Marietta paused, confused. “I thought Georgiana said she would stop Harper from inheriting.”

“Oh, please,” Imogene said with exaggeration. “You don't think for a moment I'd allow Georgiana to be the executor of Harper's trust fund?”

“That's what she told Harper.”

“Of course it is. Georgiana always manipulates the truth to suit her. But it is not true. I am the executor, and not only will Harper inherit her fortune at thirty, she will continue to receive her monthly payments until that time. Georgiana has nothing whatsoever to do with it.”

Marietta burst out laughing and grabbed her glass and raised it. “Brava, Imogene!”

Imogene met her glass and they clinked a third time.

While Marietta refilled their glasses, Imogene looked at the cards spread out on the table. “Playing solitaire, I see?”

Marietta handed Imogene the glass filled to the brim. “Yes. It's my state of affairs lately.”

“Girard doesn't play cards?”

“No, not really. Poker with the boys from time to time. That's not my game.” Marietta looked slyly at Imogene and reached for the cards. “Do you play cards?”

“I adore cards.”

Marietta's heart beat faster. She began to shuffle. “What's your game?”

“Cribbage. Do you know it?”

“No, sorry.”

“How about gin rummy? That's a
popular American game, I believe.”

Marietta grinned from ear to ear, and her opinion of Imogene reached new heights. “I do indeed. Care for a game?”

Imogene moved her chair closer to the table. “Deal.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

C
arson stood at the end of the boat ramp that slanted down into the Cove. For the past several days Sea Breeze had been a beehive of activity. Everyone was busy, buzzing around in individual circles as the summer was coming to an end. Carson had spent her days preparing for Delphine's release. Dora was driving back and forth from Summerville, packing up boxes for her move to the cottage. Harper and Granny James were spending mornings together walking the beach and talking, and afternoons in consultation with lawyers and financial advisers both in the United States and abroad. In the evenings, however, Granny James and Mamaw sat together on the back porch, heads together in conversation as they played cards.

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