“Abe didn’t know, did he?”
“They didn’t let me tell him. God, I tried.”
“Did Pop know?”
“Of course.” Of course Hannah assumed Boop was capable of honesty. And in some ways she wasn’t.
“This means Pop wasn’t my—”
“Stop it, Hannah. Pop was your grandfather, don’t you say he wasn’t!”
“Does Dad know about this?”
Boop shook her head. “No, but—”
“No buts, Boop. He deserves to know Pop wasn’t his biological father.”
Boop sniffled and her eyes filled and overflowed. It wasn’t that simple, but Boop couldn’t talk about it. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
“I will talk to your dad, Hannah. But not today.”
Over the next two days, Boop didn’t call Stuart or Georgia, and Hannah kindly gave her a wide berth. Boop eavesdropped when Hannah called the hospital, and knew Georgia was alive and improving.
When Hannah drove Boop to Natalie’s for her weekly manicure, they idled as the Dyckman Avenue drawbridge opened. Two sailboats progressed slowly, on their way to the lake. Boop stared ahead at the raised road.
“I have to tell you something,” Hannah said.
“I know I promised I will talk to your dad, and I will.” Boop was procrastinating, and she knew it. Letting out secrets might have been cathartic, but it was also exhausting.
“That’s good, but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. Not this time.”
“Oh.”
“Georgia called this morning,” Hannah said. “She’s being transferred to rehab.”
“It’s only been a few days.”
“They say she’s ready to go. And since you refuse to visit her, you can’t really have an opinion.”
“I can always have an opinion. Where are they sending her?”
“Lighthouse. Have you heard of it?”
Lighthouse Rehab was a geriatric facility, the last stop before a nursing home, meant for old people who might not recover, or recover fully. “I am glad she’ll be out of the hospital,” Boop said.
“Really?”
“What do you mean, ‘really’? I’m not a monster.”
“Do you want to go see her?”
“No.”
“I don’t understand. She seems to, but I don’t.”
“She kept a very important secret.”
“Pot, meet kettle.”
“Very funny, Hannah.”
The drawbridge lowered, the light turned green, and Hannah eased the car across. She flipped on the signal and turned right onto Broadway Street, and turned right again onto Phoenix Street, with all the tourists. None of whom had ever heard of Betty or Stern’s Summer Resort.
Boop reveled in the distraction of the summer bustle; she always had. Even though there would be no familiar faces before she saw Natalie’s, when she set her mind to it, each visitor to South Haven reminded her of the welcoming arms of Nannie and the jovial camaraderie of Zaide. They had treated every guest as family, and anyone they’d met as a potential friend. Maybe that accounted for the warmth Boop still felt toward the tourists, even though she had nothing to gain from their presence or their pocketbooks.
Hannah double-parked in front of the salon. “You should forgive Georgia. I think the good outweighs the hurt.”
“Don’t use my own words against me.” Boop unlocked the door. “I have to go in, I don’t want to be late.” She opened the door and balanced with her cane as she stepped away. Then she turned back. “I’m not mad at Georgia because I married Pop. I’m mad because she didn’t trust me to make my own choice.”
Hannah waved on the cars behind her. “No matter what she did or didn’t do, I think you two deserve closure, Boop.”
“How is that even possible when Georgia just opened everything up?”
“Anything is possible.”
Chapter 20
BETTY
Betty scurried into her bedroom along with her friends. Nannie sat on a sewing stool, tapping her foot on the floor as if counting the seconds.
“You’re lucky your grandmother can do this,” Doris said. “Mine couldn’t sew a button.”
“I am lucky,” Betty said. She knew it was brownnosing, but an extra-secure spot in Nannie’s favor didn’t hurt. Especially when Betty was going to ask for a tighter waist and a bit of a lower neckline. If Betty was feeling bold in addition to lucky, she planned to mention Abe—that they were getting serious—even though they’d already gotten serious.
They stole kisses by the tennis court with Georgia as a lookout. They skimmed fingers whenever they passed during the day. Each night after his shift at the grocer’s, Abe and Betty sat on the porch, watching the sky, listening to the lake, and kissing while her grandparents slept upstairs. A few times they’d sneaked off to his car to have sex in the back seat—which wasn’t as uncomfortable as Betty had thought it would be, with the blanket and pillow she’d pilfered from the supply closet. That’s also where they mapped out their visits as they wiggled back into their clothes, giggling and whispering like they’d gotten away with something—which they had. They figured they’d see each other on Thanksgiving break when Abe would come to South Haven for a day. By then Nannie and Zaide would have come around and accepted Betty and Abe were an item. Then, during Christmas break, Betty would head to Detroit for a week. They also schemed when they might each take a train and meet halfway—in Cleveland—and stay in a hotel under fake names!
Winter was hockey season, so that would be more difficult, but after graduation in June—less than one year from that moment—Abe would be in New York full-time. Maybe they’d marry while Betty was still in school. Why not? It’s not like he’d insist she stay home to bake cookies and have babies. Not right away. Not for a long time.
Nannie looked up from her sewing and whirled her forefinger in the air like a lasso. “Stop daydreaming. Let’s get started. No one has all day.”
Georgia
