“It sucked.” Brett shrugged. “And I can’t say I handled it very well. But in time I came to accept the fact my playing days had come to an end.”
The rest of the evening passed smoothly, with Joe discussing his work as an engineer and the part he played in the design and construction of several major industrial projects in New England, and Maggie talking about her daughters and their lives. He was particularly interested in meeting Natalie, he said, since they’d corresponded.
“She’s dying to meet you,” Maggie told him. “Grace, on the other hand, is having a bit of a problem with this. She wishes . . .” Maggie swallowed hard. This was no time for anything short of total honesty. “She feels I wasn’t honest with her father—which, admittedly, I was not.”
“I understand,” Joe said. “I hope she comes around.”
“So do I,” Maggie said. “Which reminds me. I’m having a cookout for the Fourth of July, which is a big deal in Wyndham Beach. Parade, followed by games for the kids at the town park. This year there’ll be carousel rides as well, and we top off the day with fireworks.”
“Which are always spectacular,” Brett told him.
“So I was wondering if you would like to come and bring Jamey and Lulu, and spend the day with us.” She turned to Brett. “You’re invited, too, of course. I meant to ask you earlier.”
“I’ll be working most of the day,” Brett told her, “so I won’t be free until after the fireworks.”
“You have to eat sometime. Come over when you’re done.”
“It’s a date,” Brett told her.
She felt a little flush rise up her neck to her cheeks. Had she intended the invitation to feel like a date? Up until that moment, she hadn’t thought it through.
“It sounds like a great day. I’d love to come, and I think the kids will, too. Thank you for including us.” Joe paused. “But are you sure you want to open that can of worms after, well, after keeping me a secret for forty years? Are you sure you want to go public in front of the entire town now?”
Maggie nodded slowly. “I’m not ashamed or embarrassed about you. You are my son.” She felt the tears welling in the corners of her eyes. “I waited a very long time to be able to say that out loud. At this stage of my life, I’m not afraid of what people will think or what they’ll say.”
Joe reached for her hand. “Thank you.”
“I’m with Maggie,” Brett said. “Besides, anyone looking at you would know whose son you are. No point in denying paternity.”
“Well, yeah, the resemblance is tough to ignore.” Joe pointed to his hair. “The cowlick would give it away if nothing else.”
After coffee and dessert, they walked out to the marina behind the restaurant, making small talk while they watched a few boats being moored, taking their time, trying to delay saying goodbye.
Finally, Brett glanced at his watch. “I need to call it a night. I have an early meeting in the morning.”
“Well, I’ll see you both soon. Fourth of July. It’s a definite yes.” Joe embraced Maggie and placed a kiss on her cheek, and the warmth filled her with hope for the future.
“It went well, don’t you think?” she asked Brett on the way home. “I was afraid it would feel awkward.”
“It felt . . . normal. Like three people who like each other getting together for dinner. It just felt normal.”
She sighed and rested against the headrest. Maybe not parents out for dinner with their adult son, but yeah, like three people who like each other getting together for dinner. Exactly like that. It had felt normal, and normal was more than she could have asked for.
“I really do appreciate the invitation for the Fourth,” Brett said. “Are you sure you want to include me? I mean, what will your daughters think?”
“Grace could be horrified. Natalie will think it’s about time.”
Brett laughed. “And what do you think?”
“I think maybe it’s about time, too.” Maggie paused before asking, “You?”
“Past time.” He reached across the console for her hand. “Think there’s any chance we might ever . . .”
“Don’t push your luck,” she said good-naturedly. “Let’s just see how it goes.”
“It’s your call,” he told her. “I’m just grateful you didn’t say no.”
She held his hand for a few minutes, then dislodged her fingers and reached for the radio “On” button.
“Do you mind?” she asked.
“Not at all. There’s a seventies station and an eighties station. Which would you prefer?”
She thought about it. “Surprise me.”
He hit a button, and music surrounded them.
Ambrosia. “Biggest Part of Me.”
Maggie groaned, and Brett laughed.
“I could pull over to the side of the road, and we could dance,” Brett said, a twinkle in his eye.
Maggie laughed in spite of herself. One thing she’d always loved about Brett was his sense of humor. Good to know that hadn’t changed.
Maggie walked around the Tudor-style bookstore’s spacious backyard, taking note of existing plantings and where sun and shadow fell.
“I think we could move some of my iris back here once you get that boxwood hedge trimmed. It’s really out of control. It forms a nice barrier between the alleyway on the left and the parking lot for the ice-cream shop on the right, so I wouldn’t take it out unless you wanted to install fencing. Which is an expense you probably don’t need right now.”
“No, I don’t need to add anything else. If I could afford it, I’d hire a landscaper to do the hedge, maybe trim back that crab apple tree, plant some flowers, put in a patio, but none of that can happen for a while. Buying the store pretty much cleaned me out,” Liddy admitted. “I had to put the renovations to the carriage house on hold until I get caught up.”
“Why’d Carl decide to sell the building along with the store? I thought he only wanted to sell the business?”
“I don’t know. I guess holding
