For Boop, “home” had served as a respite from the public life of being the Stern granddaughter, and later from the private pressures of marriage and motherhood. And it had always been the gathering place for her friends.
It was moments like this when Boop agreed with Hannah. How could she leave? But she knew the bigger question was, How could she stay? The house had more bedrooms than they’d ever needed and a hardwood staircase. The winters were long and frozen. Stuart lived in California, Georgia in Florida, Doris in Arizona. Boop had moved back to South Haven from Skokie after Marvin died. She had thought the house and the surroundings would be enough to sustain her, but she’d been wrong.
Hannah sniffled, and tears dripped down her cheeks.
No one loved South Haven more than Boop, and it seemed like this was a bit of an overreaction from Hannah. It wasn’t like Boop was leaving tomorrow. They’d have this one last summer.
“What’s really wrong?” Boop asked.
Outside, a horn beeped twice. Then a third time.
“That must be the girls,” Boop said. “We’ll talk later?”
“Of course.” Hannah stood. “Go! I’ll be right out.”
“Are you sure?”
Hannah nodded, and then Boop stood, steadied herself, and walked outside onto the porch as Doris and Georgia were shutting the back doors of their cab and retrieving their suitcases from the driver. He shooed them away and carried their bags to the porch.
Doris waved both hands over her head. “Yoo-hoo!”
Even from a distance, Boop could see Doris’s natural silver hair was tinted lavender—more like the color left behind after attempting to wash a blueberry stain from a white tablecloth than the vibrant shades she’d favored as a younger woman. Her makeup was light, as she had never needed much more than a little pink lipstick to accentuate her turquoise eyes that had not faded or changed over the years. Her petite frame, though, had softened as the result of natural padding. She walked up the three steps to the porch. In that moment Boop imagined the short sandy-haired, curvier version of the woman with an undetectable waistline who stepped toward her, smiling wide.
Doris had married Saul recently—her fifth husband after two divorces and two funerals. That much loss was unimaginable, as was Doris’s romantic resilience. Her motto? You’re never too old to find love and throw a good party. What skin was it off Boop’s nose? Doris should live and be well.
Georgia walked around the cab from the passenger’s side. She strode toward the house, regal with her still-auburn hair skimming her shoulders against her white linen blazer. She had neither a slouch nor a stoop belying her five feet, nine inches. Her face appeared a smidgen slimmer than last November, when Boop had visited Boca Raton, likely the result of all that tennis and early-bird kale salad. She placed one hand on her head as if holding down a wig—though it wasn’t a wig at all. She turned toward the beach and tipped back her head before pivoting around to Boop, her arms wide. “We’re back!”
Boop met the girls in the center of the porch, a lump lodged at the base of her throat. She had so much to say yet couldn’t speak. She grasped Georgia’s left hand and Doris’s right, and then they clasped hands as well. Georgia and Doris squeezed her hands, their touch familiar and restorative. Boop gripped their hands more tightly in return as the lake breeze seemed to swirl around the trio like a playful older brother, mussing their hair and scattering sand on their feet. It had missed having them here together.
Maybe Hannah was just missing South Haven—and missing Boop—before she needed to. But that wouldn’t explain the duffel bag.
With her attention back on the girls, thoughts of Hannah faded, and Boop smiled. Then her heart stirred up the perfect words: “Welcome home.”
Chapter 2
BOOP
“Can an outsider break into this circle?”
Hannah’s voice reminded Boop of her worry about her granddaughter, and Doris and Georgia flinched. It seemed none of them had heard her step outside. Nostalgia was like that—blocking the present the way a cloud blocked the sun.
Doris pulled her hands away from Georgia and Boop, and held out her arms. “Hannah! We didn’t know you were here!” She turned to Georgia. “Did you know?” Georgia shook her head, and Doris nodded once and returned her gaze to Hannah. Then she hugged her as only a bonus bubbe could. “You look wonderful.”
Hannah’s eyes were red and swollen from crying, but through Doris’s bubbe lens—and Boop’s—she still looked lovely.
“How long has it been? How long are you staying?” Georgia asked.
Boop hadn’t thought to ask. Her granddaughter rarely stayed more than one night, but it was a big duffel bag. Boop needed to know what troubles were packed inside. Good thing she and the girls were expert listeners and problem solvers.
Hannah pulled back and scurried a few feet to Georgia and kissed her cheek. “It’s been years since I’ve seen both of you. Or the three of you together!”
“It’s been years since the three of us have been in South Haven,” Boop said.
Georgia removed her sunglasses with a flourish, even though the sun was shining down. “That’s why we’re here.”
Boop pulled open the door, and Hannah grabbed the suitcases and followed everyone inside.
They all walked to the kitchen and sat at the Formica table, the refurbished one that had belonged to Boop’s grandparents. Years back, Hannah had told her that old was new. She’d called it retro.
Sitting there, Boop could almost taste Nannie’s blueberry doughnuts and hear Doris and Georgia shouting, “Go fish!” She’d played checkers with Stuart at this table, and one summer served grilled cheese
