Read Online Driftwood Summer by Patti Callahan Henry - Free Book Online Page A

your mind and didn’t come.”
    “Almost,” Maisy attempted to joke, returning the half hug.
    Riley led them toward the luggage carousel. “You look great. A true California girl now, huh?”
    Maisy glanced at her sister, her smile stiff. “You look fantastic, too.” She stopped. “We don’t need to wait for luggage.” She tapped her carry-on. “This is all I brought.”
    Riley stopped, turned. Her hair fell across her face. “You only have one bag?”
    “I’m not staying long, Riley. I can’t. I just came to check on Mama and help you for a couple days. If I need anything, I’m sure you’ll have something I can borrow.”
    “Maisy, I’m twice your size.”
    “Not anymore, big sister. Look at you. Is Mama working you to the bone?”
    Riley looked down at her feet, as if the answer rested on the tile floor. “That’s not the point. We have all got to help one another get this party off the ground, help Mama. . . .”
    Maisy wheeled her luggage toward the electronic doors. “Let’s go. I can’t wait to get some sleep in my old bed. . . .”
    They walked in silence toward the parking lot, Maisy behind Riley in some ritual of youth: following her big sister. Just landing on the tarmac of south Georgia had set her back twelve years.
    She attempted conversation. “How’s Mama?”
    “Ornery. They’ve allowed her to come home, but she has a full-time nurse and Harriet.”
    “This should be fun.”
    “Oh, loads of fun. Thanks for coming. We really need you. You know how much this store means to Mama and how long she’s planned this party.”
    “It shouldn’t be my fault that Mama loves the bookstore more than she loves most people.”
    “That is ridiculous. Stop it. You’ve broken her heart by not visiting sooner.”
    Maisy held up her hand to stop the conversation. “No, Riley. We’re not doing this. I’ll do what I can to help, but I’m not getting dragged into family fights.” Maisy took a breath. “So how is my adorable nephew?”
    “He can’t wait to see his aunt Maisy. He thinks you only exist in pictures.”
    “Kind of like a movie star, right?”
    Riley laughed. “He’s great; he’s the light of my life. It’s weird to think you haven’t seen him since Daddy’s funeral. He was only six years old then.”
    “I know.” Maisy kept her words light to hide the emotion caught in her throat.
    The car trip chatter was as shallow as the tidal pools on Palmetto Beach. Maisy felt like a stranger, discussing trivia as insignificant as job satisfaction, weather and lack of plane food. When Riley drove past the Welcome to Palmetto Beach sign, Maisy sighed out loud.
    “Glad to be here?” Riley asked in a soft voice.
    “No,” Maisy answered. Damn Mama’s martinis. Damn the family responsibility that had been so etched into her soul that she’d had no choice but to come.
    “Well, so glad we’ll have a happy Maisy while you’re here. Can’t you just pretend?”
    “No.”
    Riley stopped the car at a red light. “Seriously, Maisy. There are worse things in life than coming to your childhood beach town to see your family.”
    Maisy rolled down the window. “I know. It just doesn’t feel like it right now. I’m tired. I miss Peter.” She stared through the open window.
    The stoplight turned green and Riley drove down Palmetto Street before turning right into the gravel drive of Driftwood Cottage. “I have to grab Brayden before we go to Mama’s. Okay?”
    “I’ll stay in the car,” Maisy said.
    “Of course you won’t. Come on.”
    Anxiety and expectancy combined with Maisy’s fatigue from the sleepless night she’d spent in anticipation of this: walking into the bookstore where townspeople would see her, know her, talk about her. . . .
    Maisy looked up at a white banner taped across the front porch. “WELCOME HOME MAISY” said the sign, which was decorated along the edges in vivid drawings of starfish, sand dollars and a dolphin.
    Maisy pointed to the sign.