Summer Beach Reads 5-Book Bundle: Beachcombers, Heat Wave, Moon Shell Beach, Summer House, Summer Breeze (135 page)

BOOK: Summer Beach Reads 5-Book Bundle: Beachcombers, Heat Wave, Moon Shell Beach, Summer House, Summer Breeze
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At noon, Charlotte drove in to deliver fresh produce to the restaurants she supplied. When she returned, she gave Jorge a long list of instructions and stomped through the rain to the mudroom. Grateful to find the kitchen empty, she quickly made herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and raced upstairs to the attic, where she showered and dressed. She wore a blue button-down shirt with a khaki skirt; she had thought hard about what to wear to Family Meeting and decided this was best. It was as close as she could get to looking like a man. It made her look sexless, efficient, sober, and levelheaded—at least she hoped it did. While she ate her sandwich,
she opened her folder and reviewed her notes. And then the clock struck one, she heard the voices of the family on the stairs as they headed toward the dining room, and, with her heart in her throat, she joined them.

Nona sat at the head of the long wide dining table, in the chair Grandfather Herb had used until his death. Nona wore one of her Public Pajama outfits, this time in a staid gray, and she wore her pearls and a touch of lipstick. The rest of the family sorted itself out around the table, pulling out chairs, taking care to sit next to someone from the other side. Once all of Grace’s family had sat on one side, facing all of Worth’s family, and it had seemed too antagonistic. It had been uncomfortable. It was, after all, a
family
meeting. All in all, there were fourteen people today, the most ever: Nona; Worth, Helen, Charlotte, Oliver, Owen, and Teddy; Grace and Kellogg, Mandy and Claus, Mellie and Douglas, and Mee.

Nona opened the session by thanking them all for her birthday celebration. “But please,” she invited, with a smile, “I beg you, help yourselves to the plunder. I’ve stacked it on the table in the front hall. I must have received seven boxes of lavender toilet water, even more boxes of perfumed soaps, and quite a bit of very nice Crane stationery. I intend to live a long life, but even so, I won’t be able to use up all my loot.”

She turned the meeting over to Worth and Grace. Grace reminded them of various far-flung relatives and friends who had passed away over the last year. She handed out printed schedules of the charities the family supported and asked for comments or suggestions. Then Worth and Kellogg together presented a formal review of the family’s financial holdings. The presentation was detailed, complete with color-coded charts and graphs and footnotes and investment-objective assessments.

Charlotte doodled on her yellow pad, half listening, half studying the faces of the others. Oliver and Owen sat at attention, handsome and solemn, seeming truly interested. Teddy, seated between Mee and Charlotte, was restless. He’d taken the trouble to change out of one of his ridiculous Hawaiian shirts into a white button-down with the
sleeves rolled up, and he looked good. Perhaps thin, but good. His butterscotch hair could use a decent cut, but still he looked respectable.

Worth spoke for a long time about how the Internet and ever-improved new technology were changing banking in ways no one could ever have foreseen. Customers were no longer coming into their familiar neighborhood bank where they knew the faces of the tellers and the reputations of the bank directors. More and more transactions occurred online. One way this impacted their bank was in personnel. Wisdom, experience, and a track record were less important than technological capability. The bank now hired, of necessity, young people, often very young people, because they needed employees who were technologically savvy Also, because of technology, a global market had opened up and could not be ignored if the return on the bank’s assets was going to be maximized. Many older employees were finding it difficult to adjust to the rapid changes in their profession. The bank directors had instituted a number of educational options, from in-house computer training seminars to a six-month leave of absence for intensive technological education. But many of their oldest employees found the computer programs too confusing, and they chafed against working with and being taught by younger, hipper staff members who seemed to have no respect for their elders. The problem was not one to be solved easily. After one hundred and thirty years of business, the Wheelwright Bank was assaulted by challenges it never could have foreseen.

Bank business had always taken the majority of the time allotted for Family Meeting—so much so, in fact, that ten years ago Grandfather Herb had insisted on a limit. After all, he reminded them, it was a family meeting, not a meeting of the bank’s board of directors. Today Nona gently enforced the time limit by interrupting Kellogg, who would have droned on forever, saying that she needed a little breather; they would reconvene in fifteen minutes. The Bank Boys shoved back their chairs and charged off into separate corners to check messages on their cell phones and text directives, and Oliver and Owen did the same. Teddy raced off to check on Suzette, and Helen and Grace and their daughters carried in the pitchers of
lemonade and ice-filled tumblers and plates of cookies that Glorious had made for the occasion.

When they were all seated around the table again, munching cookies and sipping lemonade, the atmosphere was less formal.

“The next item on the agenda,” Grace announced, “is the matter of Beach Grass Garden.”

Charlotte’s heart thumped. The atmosphere in the room was still inharmonious, as if they’d geared up for a battle which had dissolved, leaving them ready to fight about anything. Still, she had done the best she could to prepare. She handed around neatly printed copies of her annual report. For a few moments the room was silent except for the rustling of papers as everyone skimmed her figures.

Finally Kellogg spoke. “You show a profit of four thousand dollars for last year. Well done, Charlotte. Most small businesses don’t show a profit for at least three years. You’re ahead of the curve.”

“And yet,” Mandy said, “you only made that profit because you are using Nona’s land.”

“I’m paying Nona rent for the use of the land,” Charlotte replied.

Mee barked out a laugh. “Yes, a pittance of what the land is really worth.”

“I see much of the profit deriving from ‘container gardens,’ ” Claus said, tapping his forefinger on a line item on her financial statement. “What does that mean?”

Charlotte had been hoping someone would ask this very question. “In the off season there’s not a lot I can do to make an income. The garden is basically done after the middle of November. But I discovered there is a huge demand for container gardens, as gifts and decorations.” Reaching into her folder, she brought out a few photos she’d printed off and passed them around the table. “These are container gardens.”

The first garden was a fishbowl filled with sand, a variety of seashells, and a miniature evergreen tree made from a twig of pine, all of it sparkling with soap-flake snow. The second was an old wicker tray piled with gourds, autumn leaves still vivid with color, bits of barberry and ivy, and plumes of beach grass. The third was a china water pitcher filled with dried hydrangea.

“These are cool,” Oliver said.

“Did you make them yourself?” Grace asked.

“I did.” Charlotte started to elaborate, but Mandy cut her off.

Mandy said, with a bite in her voice, “Under the expense column, I find no item for
containers.

Charlotte smiled. “That’s because there
was
no expense. I get all the containers at the dump.”

“Oh,
gross!
” Mee said.

“Not gross at all,” Charlotte told her. “You have no idea of the quantity and quality of items that are dropped off at the Take It or Leave It shed. This island fills up with fifty thousand people in the summer, and the flower shops deliver centerpieces, arrangements, bouquets, and thank-you gifts to many of them. The containers—inexpensive glass vases and bowls—end up at the shed and I retrieve them. Then I give each one a thorough cleaning in the dishwasher, with hot water and a strong disinfectant soap.”

“Ah!” Claus pounced. “So you are using Nona’s electricity and water for your own private gain.”

“As you can see,” Charlotte coolly replied, “I pay for a portion of Nona’s electricity in addition to the rent I pay her for her land.” She looked around the table. “By using these containers, I’m holding to the guiding principle of Beach Grass Garden. A return to the natural, a return to local production and recycling.”

“That’s all very nice,” Grace said, her voice tight. “Yet I am uncomfortable with your use of Nona’s land. You are setting a precedent here. You are making a profit from Nona’s land.”

“I’m paying Nona rent for the land.”

“True,” Nona agreed, leaning forward. “And I’ve put the money into a savings account, so that when I’m gone you can divide it equally among yourselves.”

“Still.” Grace chewed her lip, discontent. “It’s the land,” she said finally. “It’s the use of the land. What if Charlotte continues to run Beach Grass Garden for
years?

“Aunt Grace,” Charlotte replied, “that land has lain unused for years.”

Oliver spoke up. “Here’s a thought. Charlotte is using three acres
of Nona’s land. Why don’t Aunt Grace and her family choose three acres to use as
they
see fit?”

“That seems like a fair suggestion,” Nona said.

Grace and her daughters and all the husbands exchanged glances.

“That’s a good solution,” Worth told his oldest son.

“The three acres would be for
rent
,” Oliver stressed. “This would not affect the matter of ownership.”

Grace and Kellogg nodded stifly.

“But we don’t want to do anything with the land!” Mellie protested.

Grace clearly wasn’t happy, but she admitted, “But we could if we wanted to.” She looked at her brother. “This might work, at least for a year, and then we can review matters at the next Family Meeting.”

“Blessed be the peacemakers,” Nona murmured under her breath.

After Family Meeting, it was customary for the family to go to the yacht club for a long, indulgent meal. This was Nona’s innovation. She’d realized long ago, and she was still right, that family issues could not be discussed in public, and a friendly, familiar atmosphere where no one person had to carry dishes, cook, or clean up would go a long way toward lessening any tensions caused by Family Meeting.

By evening, the rain clouds had been blown away, leaving the sky a clean rinsed blue and the air sparkling with evening sun. Charlotte wore a sleeveless low-backed white sheath dress with a clever short jacket and very high heels. It was fun to change out of her work clothes, and fun to see her cousins and her mother and aunt and grandmother all dolled up again. Even Suzette wore a floaty yellow dress that covered her usually bare belly. It wasn’t the best color for the sallow young woman, and she could use a decent hairstyling as well, but she was certainly what Aunt Grace called
presentable.
As the family entered the yacht club, Charlotte felt proud of her family as she often did, so many of them they took up two long tables, all of them good-looking separately and, together, a striking pack.

Tonight Mee chose to attach herself to Charlotte, complimenting
her on her dress and earrings, making jokes and touching Charlotte’s arm. Perhaps Mee, newly divorced, wanted the company of another single woman. Mee was the least attractive of the three sisters, but since the settlement of her divorce from Phillip, she’d become by far the wealthiest. She was announcing her return to single life as brazenly as she knew how, with too much makeup and low-cut tacky clothes. Charlotte gave herself a mental demerit for her cattiness and reminded herself she had a lot of karmic work to do.

“Mee,” Charlotte said, “where did you get that necklace? I’ve never seen it before.”

“Do you like it?” Mee’s face lit up at Charlotte’s compliment. “It’s awfully gaudy, I know, but aren’t people wearing big stones now?”

“Absolutely,” Charlotte assured her. “You look smashing.”

The group was led to their tables and seated. Charlotte saw Suzette being gently tended by Helen, who helped Suzette into a chair, slipped off the silk shawl draped over her own shoulders, and wrapped it around Suzette. Helen’s gestures were so nurturing—so
maternal
—Charlotte felt a twinge. Why, she was jealous of Suzette—or at least of the attentions Helen was paying her. And Suzette was going to give Helen a grandchild, a gift beyond measure. Charlotte was ashamed of her emotions, but she could not erase them. She wanted a child, too, but she wanted to be married to a man she loved first.

Oliver was seated on Charlotte’s right. He noticed her glance and drew close to her, whispering, “So what do you think of Suzette?”

Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s hardly said a word to me, and I’ve really tried.”

“She seems to like Mom.”

“It’s easy to like Mom.” Charlotte flicked her linen napkin into her lap and picked up the menu.

“Aunt Grace is really on a tear this summer.” Oliver spoke softly, picking up his own menu and pretending to discuss entrees with Charlotte.

“I know. I’ve noticed that, too. Mom’s not her normal self, either. What’s going on, I wonder?”

“Perhaps now that Family Meeting’s over, everyone will relax.” Oliver turned his attention to the waiter.

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