“COME ON, TILDA, get moving. You’re going to be late.” Ginny Landry checked the wall clock while listening to her daughter bang around in her room. “Hey, do you need any help packing?”
“No. I’ve got it.” Another thud. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Of course not.” Ginny could tell by her voice Tilda was grinning. “Okay, maybe a little.” Wanting a weekend for herself—well, with three of her best friends from high school—didn’t make Ginny a bad mother. After all, a fifteen-year class reunion happened only once in a lifetime.
“I know you,” Tilda called out, moving to the edge of the stairs. “You just don’t want Kaley’s mom to come in and start gushing.”
“You’re right. That’s part of it.” Ginny walked out of the kitchen and looked up at Tilda leaning over the railing. “Where’s your bag?”
Tilda lost the grin. “I’m working on it,” she said, slipping back into her room. “Dang. You’re giving me a complex.”
“I’ll send you to therapy,” Ginny called as she walked into the living room, stopping at her piano. When she brushed the keys, her glossy fingernails caught her attention. They looked so pretty.
Yesterday she’d splurged on a mani-pedi. Because she gave piano lessons, she was always careful to keep her nails trimmed and neat, but she’d gone all out, letting the woman apply a light beigy-pink color. Ginny looked down and wiggled her matching toenails peeking out from the strappy gold sandals she’d bought for the weekend festivities. She felt so glamorous. So chic. So...not like herself. But that was the point.
It wasn’t at all that she was unhappy being a single mom, or to be living in the same house where she’d grown up. In fact, Ginny considered herself lucky. Temptation Bay had once been a small, quaint town tucked away on the Rhode Island coast and populated by generations of fishing families. But in the last couple of decades, the area had exploded with tourists, and summer people who’d bought up beachfront property and coveted lots along the bluffs that overlooked the water.
Ginny’s family home sat on nearly an acre on the northernmost bluff, thanks to the foresight of her great-grandfather. All the windows on the east side of the house faced the Atlantic Ocean and the bay. It was a privilege to have such a gorgeous view, and not one to be taken for granted.
She stood at the living room window, watching the sailboats glide across the sparkling blue water, wondering if her father ever missed it. If he ever regretted moving out all those years ago. Sure, his upscale Providence town house was close to his law office and he had a very nice view of the river, but really, there was no comparison.
Maybe she’d ask him now that they were on better terms. Well, they were speaking again, anyway.
“Hey, Mom, where are you?” Tilda’s voice came from the top of the stairs.
“In the living room.”
“Don’t you think it’s going to be kind of weird?”
Ginny turned away from the window. “What’s going to be weird?”
“Seeing all those people you went to school with.” Tilda, now wearing an oversize Roger Williams Academy T-shirt and cutoffs, stopped halfway down the stairs. “They’re all going to look old, and the guys could be balding and the—”
“Oh, for... We’re all in our early thirties. That’s hardly ancient.” She saw another grin lurking at the corners of her daughter’s mouth. “Good. You’re finished packing.” Tilda’s expression fell, and back up the stairs she went.
“You’re going camping for three days, Tilda. How much stuff do you need to take?”
“I don’t know. You’re stressing me out.”
“I’ll give you five minutes,” Ginny said, looking at the clock. “Then I’m taking over.”
“All right already. I’m almost done.”
For being extremely
