Summer Beach Reads 5-Book Bundle: Beachcombers, Heat Wave, Moon Shell Beach, Summer House, Summer Breeze (24 page)

“Um … let me ask Mrs. Yardley.”

Before she could reach the bedroom, Eartha Yardley yelled, “Tell him to come on in. It won’t be the first time I’ve had a strange man in my bedroom.” She laughed heartily.

Godzy bounced and yapped and ran in frenzied circles around the deliveryman’s ankles as he made his way into the bedroom.

“Good morning, Mrs. Yardley,” he said. “Where would you like these?”

“Hi, Liam. Over there on the chaise, don’tcha think?”

He set them down. “I’ve got another batch.” He went out and returned with five more boxes.

When the chaise was piled high and Godzy curled next to his mistress, longing for a piece of bacon, Eartha said to Lily, “Open them up for me, darling. I love being entertained while I eat.”

Lily found the scissors in the sewing basket and began carefully
undoing the boxes. She lifted out dresses and caftans and shawls in vivid jewel tones, in silk and linen and cotton. “So many exquisite things,” she breathed.

“Hold up that turquoise one,” Eartha ordered. “Yeah, that’s gorgeous, all right. And it looks like I’ll be able to squeeze into it. I’ll try those things on after I eat.” She sighed. “Trying on clothes is such hard work.”

Lily took padded hangers out of the closet and hung up the clothes as she took them from the box. She couldn’t imagine why Eartha needed so many more things. Her closets were already crammed full.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Eartha said through a mouth of bacon. “You’re thinking why does such an old bat even bother trying?”

“Oh, no!” Lily protested. “I wasn’t thinking that at all. I think it’s fun to look fabulous at any age.” She smiled at her employer. “And you always look fabulous.”

“You should have seen me when I was young. I was a knockout.”

“I know. You look like a movie star in that oil portrait in your living room.”

“God. Those were the days. People were more fun then. Now everyone is so
earnest.
It’s enough to make me gag.” Eartha cut off a piece of bacon and held it out for Godzy, who snapped it up. “All right,” she said, “I’ve just got to bite the bullet. Come take this tray off my legs.”

Lily carried the tray into the kitchen and slowly cleaned it off, giving Eartha plenty of time to struggle out of her nightgown and into her bra, panties, and slip.

When she returned to the bedroom, Eartha was scrutinizing the hem of an apricot silk dress. “Help me into this,” she told Lily.

Lily slid it over the older woman’s head and gently tugged it down.

Eartha examined her reflection in the mirror. “Drat. Too small. The color’s gorgeous, but it makes my skin turn sallow.”

“Let’s send it back,” Lily suggested. “Exchange it for a larger size.”

Eartha flashed a look at Lily, standing behind her. “Check out the color with your hair. Wow. Hey. You take it. With that color, it’s absolutely calling your name.”

Lily’s breath caught in her throat. She held the dress against her. The material was so sensual, so exquisite. “I couldn’t,” she said carefully. “And it’s a little too large.”

Eartha laughed. “A
little
too large? Honey, you should run for office. Hey, we’ll just have my dressmaker alter it for you. She’s coming over later today. Check my calendar. And get my topaz necklace and earrings. I’ll bet they’d be dynamite on you with that apricot dress.”

Lily tried not to hurry as she went to Eartha’s desk and turned her engagement book to the right page. “Seamstress at three.”

“Now what about this?” Eartha held a dress up against her. It was cut loose and full in a swirl of yellows and pinks. “I think this will fit. Come help me.”

Lily burned to open the jewelry drawers of the vanity, but she hurried to help Eartha undress and dress again. Now Eartha was into the full swing of decision making, yanking clothes on and off with Lily’s help. Godzy got bored and fell asleep on the bed. Lily fluttered around Eartha, eagerly helping, secretly praying,
Don’t forget the jewelry!

“God, I’m exhausted!” Eartha let the last dress fall into a silken puddle on the floor. “Honey, get me some Diet Coke. I’ve got to rest. Jesus, this fashion business is tiring.” She crawled back into bed wearing nothing but her underwear.

Lily went into the kitchen and returned with two tall glasses filled with ice and Diet Coke. Pulling a chair next to the bed, she opened Eartha’s engagement calendar. The two women went over it carefully, planning what Eartha would wear to each event, and which shoes, and which jewelry. Occasionally Eartha asked Lily to hold some of the jewelry up to a garment to see if it made the colors “pop.” At eleven, Eartha headed into her bathroom for a shower while Lily stripped her bed and put on fresh sheets and pillowcases and smoothed the light coverlet over the bed. She went around the room, tidying the clothing. She carried the cardboard boxes out to the recyclable pile in the garage. When she returned, Eartha was ready for Lily to help her dress for lunch. Lily zipped up the beige linen dress and dug around in the closet for the shoes Eartha wanted. Eartha sat at her vanity, applying makeup.

“I think that’s it for the morning,” Lily said. “I’ve called your cab. It will be here right at noon.”

“Be back at three,” Eartha told her. “We’ll get that dress cut down for you. You’re going to the library fund-raiser, aren’t you? Good. We’ll be sure she’s got the dress ready for you to wear for that. And here.” Opening a drawer, Eartha lifted out a pair of intricate topaz and gold teardrop earrings and a matching necklace. “Take these. You can keep them. They’re meant for your hair and coloring.”

Tears welled in Lily’s eyes. She blinked them back. “I can’t keep them,” she protested, but her voice cracked as she spoke.

“Why not? I never wear them. I’ve seen what you wear to the parties. You need some serious jewelry, honey. You may think you look adorable and innocent in your little costume stuff, but the topaz will make you stand out.” She patted Lily’s hand. “And I like my friends to be outstanding.”

“I … I could just borrow them …”

“Oh, cut it out. Surely you can tell I have more money than sense. Take the damn things. And stop that quivering-lip shit. You’re beginning to annoy me.”

Lily grinned at Eartha’s words. “Well, if you’re sure. Thank you so much. They are beautiful.”

“
You
are beautiful, honey. And young. Enjoy it while you can.”

Mary Jo Cushing was holding a luncheon event to welcome a biographer who would lecture tonight about his new book on American presidents, but as Lily biked over to the Cushing house, she didn’t review the questions she would ask Austin Abernathy for her article about him. Instead, she gloated over the topaz jewelry and the apricot dress.

At the Cushings’ house on Cliff Road, Lily entered through the kitchen, stopping to chat for a minute with the caterers, who were friends of hers. The buffet luncheon was on the long green swoop of lawn overlooking the glistening blue waters of Nantucket Sound. Lily zipped around taking photos and writing down names. After the luncheon, Lily led Austin Abernathy to a quiet spot in the solarium to interview him. He was just as she’d feared—long-winded, pompous, and stodgy. She kept stealing glances at her watch. It had taken her fifteen minutes to bike from Eartha’s to the Cushings’. She
had to leave no later than two-forty-five; she didn’t want to be late for the dressmaker, and it would be rude to keep Eartha waiting after her generosity.

“Now Herbert Hoover,” Austin Abernathy droned, “was misunderstood by most of the more eminent historians—”

Lily’s watch pointed to two-forty-six.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Abernathy.” Lily closed her notebook and stood up. “I’ve got an appointment at three. It was an honor to meet you. Thank you so much for giving me this interview.”

She thanked her hostess and raced out to her bike. She pedaled as fast as she could, but anxiety strung her nerves tight. Emma had to have the car in the late afternoon because she had to drive the Bennett children around, and Lily understood that, but still it seemed unfair. The sun had grown hot and muggy, the warmest day they’d had yet this July, and she felt sweat break out all over as she forced herself to hurry. She didn’t want to be late, but she didn’t want to show up at Eartha’s covered with sweat and smelling like old socks. Frustration clogged her throat. She sniffed back tears. Great. Swell. She was going to show up at Eartha Yardley’s with swollen red eyes, a dripping nose, and sweat-smelling clothes!

She arrived at Eartha’s only ten minutes late. The seamstress was just carrying a pile of altered clothing into the house. Godzy was circling her, yipping and prancing and wagging his tail.

“Let me help you,” Lily offered, dumping her bike on the ground. Mona Coffin had been a friend of her mother’s, and Lily was always glad to see her.

Inside, Lily hid her impatience as Eartha tried on the new dresses that needed altering. Lily took garments off hangers and put them back on, entered the information in Eartha’s black notebook, and brought everyone glasses of iced tea. She slid the garments Mona would take back with her into their garment bags and double-checked to see that she’d listed all the details of the alterations. She packed up the rejects for the next UPS visit. She chatted and laughed as the two older women gossiped about movie stars and TV celebrities.

And then finally, Eartha said, “Okay, Mona, now I’ve got a challenge for you. Can you cut this dress down from whale size to goldfish?”

Mona laughed. “Let’s see.”

Lily dropped her clothes and slid into the apricot dress. The fabric was as magical as she’d remembered.

“Oh, honey,” Mona said. “This is stunning on you.” She ran her hands down the side seams, pulling the material, evaluating. “Yes. Yes, I think I can take it in here, and here, like this …”

“And you’ll need to shorten it,” Eartha added. “With legs like hers, it should be as short as possible. Cheese on a cracker, you could get two dresses out of that.”

How pleasurable it was to have the two older women circling her, heads cocked, studying her, complimenting her, smoothing the fabric over her back and hips, touching Lily and the dress so gently. It felt like a great tenderness. Lily’s heart swelled with gratitude.

“How soon can you have it finished?” Eartha asked Mona.

“It depends where it is on your list of priorities,” Mona told her. She waved toward the pile of clothing she had to take with her to alter.

“Get my calendar, Lily. I think the library fund-raiser is next Friday night.”

Lily ran her finger down the list of Eartha’s scheduled activities. “It is.”

“Let’s have it by Friday morning, then,” Eartha said. “It’s going to be a big glam occasion. This dress will be perfect for it.” She sat down on her bed. “God, I’m beat. I’ve got to rest before I go out for the evening.”

Lily said good-bye to Eartha and Godzy, then helped Mona carry the clothing out to the car. She jumped on her bike and pedaled away from the house, but when she came to the entrance to Sanford Farm, she locked up her bike and ran into a grove of evergreen trees. No one could see her here. She crumbled to the ground and gave way to a massive storm of weeping.

She missed her mother!

She could remember her mother holding her, caressing her, whispering endearments, and she could remember Abbie holding her, too. Abbie had taken Lily shopping for clothes, Abbie had taken care that Lily had the prettiest outfits, and Abbie had altered Lily’s clothes to make them perfect. Abbie had brushed Lily’s hair and braided it or tied it in ribbons. Abbie had let Lily experiment
with her makeup—oh, there had been lots of times when Abbie and Emma, sometimes, too, had dressed Lily like a live china doll. They had been so proud of pretty little Lily, with her red hair and gem-green eyes. They’d held her hands when they walked into town, when they attended church, when they’d gone to school events. Why, when she was small, Lily hadn’t had enough hands, not with Abbie, Emma, and her father all wanting to accompany her!

And now she was so alone! Now Abbie and Emma were like strangers, only caring about themselves, not bothering to spare a single thought for Lily!

Oh, grow up, Lily
, she told herself. She pulled a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose and wiped her tears.
You’re an adult now
, she reminded herself. How could she forget the best thing about being grown-up—Jason. Love, and sex, with Jason. She took her iPod from her backpack, and as she did, she felt the little padded jewelry bag. Now she had real jewelry, too, another pleasure of being grown-up.

She left the grove of trees, climbed on her bike, stuck her earpiece into her ear, and biked home with ABBA jazzing up her mood.

Not until she was locking her bike in the garage did she remember.

Emma had arranged to use their father’s truck to pick up the children so that Lily could use the car this afternoon to buy groceries. And in her excitement at Eartha’s stunning generosity, Lily had forgotten all about buying groceries.

Jim had phoned Marina to tell her he was running late. Could she meet him at Even Keel at eight instead of seven? She’d said of course, and he said he’d change the reservation, and now she was strolling into town on a warm summer evening, and everything around her seemed soft and new and lovely.
She
felt soft and new and lovely, and it wasn’t just the pale blue summer dress that drifted around her as she moved, it wasn’t just the warm glow her skin carried from the summer sun. It was partly, she thought, that she was falling a little in love with this island, with its golden beaches and shimmering skies and gardens vibrant with flowers. It was also, partly, she admitted to herself, the presence of Jim Fox in her life.