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Shane got out of the car and marched up the long driveway to Bayview Estate. He’d given Mimi a heads up, so she knew he was coming; she just had no idea why.
He knocked on the door and waited. After a few minutes, he knocked again.
Mimi’s face appeared first, her blonde hair perfectly brushed and fluffed into place. “Shane, darling, come in. Come in!” She flung the door fully open and danced away. She had a martini glass in her hand and a smile on her face. “I’m having a cocktail,” she called over her shoulder. “Join me.”
Shane followed Mimi into the living room. Floor to ceiling windows gave panoramic views of the bay. Did his Dad play by the window when he was kid? What was his favorite toy? Did he appreciate the view when he was a teen? The larger than life house he got to live in?
Shane never cared about money or material things, but it would have been nice not see Mom struggle. He’d felt guilty when he’d gotten sick because he saw how much more of a burden Mom was handed.
Mimi stopped at a bar cart and held up a glass. “Cocktail?” she asked.
The grandfather clock in the far corner showed it was barely past noon. He enjoyed a beer or a cocktail every now and again, but he was also very aware of what he put into his body. “I’m good.”
Mimi shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She picked up a shaker and filled her glass, dropping an olive in to finish it off. She brought the drink to the couch with her and motioned for Shane to sit.
She took a sip of her martini then fished out the olive. She plopped the olive in her mouth and spoke around it. “What brings you here today?”
He had no idea how to broach the subject. Did he ease into it? Find a segue? “I know you’re not my grandmother,” he blurted. Mimi choked on the sip of martini she just took. She coughed and reached for a napkin. Shane grabbed the napkin and handed it to her. “At least not my biological grandmother,” he added.
She recovered and sat back on the couch. Her face paled, the tight set of her forehead drooped slightly, and her blue eyes darted toward the window, staring out to the bay. She cleared her throat. “Who told you?” her voice was faint, strangled by what Shane could only decipher as hurt.
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters,” she snapped. “It is no one’s business. This damn town and their big mouths. They just can’t help themselves. They love to knock me down because I live in the big house on the bay.”
Shane had no idea where this train of thought was coming from, and he wasn’t about to try and figure it out. He needed to stay on topic. “Nobody told me out of spite. They told me because I asked. I tried talking to you about my father, and you kept derailing the conversation. What else was I supposed to do? I just want to know where I came from. Is that too hard to understand?”
“No. No it’s not.”
“Then why did you want to keep this from me? Don’t you think I have the right to know?”
She put her martini glass on the coffee table that looked like it belonged in a modern art museum. She angled her body to face him.
“I didn’t say anything because I don’t care what a DNA test says. Iamyour grandmother, just as I was your father’s mother. I raised him. I woke up with him in the middle of the night for feedings. I stayed up with him when he had nightmares. I caught him sneaking into the house past curfew. I went to all of his basketball games and his debate meets. I devoted my life to him. So, I could give two shits what anyone says. Hewasmy son, and I loved him with every breath in my body. When he…when he died, it broke me.”
She downed the rest of her martini, and a tear slipped down her cheek. Shane held his hand out to the martini glass. It was as good as time as any to put his bartending skills to use. She blinked up, tears coating the mascara on her lashes. “Thank you.”
He went through the motions of making a martini and handed Mimi the finished product, along with a tissue to wipe her eyes. “Thank you,” she said again. “You’re very thoughtful. Just like your father.”
Sadness and longing consumed him. There were so many things he should have known but didn’t. He sat down and waited for Mimi to look his way.
“Can you tell me about him?”
Mimi smiled, her entire face lighting up and revealing the true beauty she was beneath the years of plastic surgery. “I’d love to.”
Chapter 13
There were still a few weeks until the official start of summer, but the weather was as impatient as the beach goers. Olivia, Harper, Isla, and Milo sprawled out on a sheet they’d draped across the sand and soaked up as much of the late morning sun as they could.
This was one thing Olivia missed. Living in a concrete jungle, there weren’t many opportunities to escape to the sandy shores of either the bay or the ocean, unlike at home where she was practically surrounded by both. Nothing could replace the feeling of her toes in the sand, not even an afternoon picnic in Central Park.
Milo lifted his foot onto the sheet, and Harper growled. “I swear it’s impossible for you to keep sand off the sheet.”
“You’re at the beach. What do you expect?” Milo asked, brushing the sand off the corner of the sheet.
“I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,” Olivia said on a sigh, placing her arms behind her head.
Isla turned to her side, facing them. The large hat she wore to protect her alabaster skin from the sun flopped forward, and she pushed it back into place. “Do you think this is what heaven is really like?”
