Mamaw sucked in a long breath. “I’m ready. Shall we go out?”
Lucille tightened her hold on Mamaw’s arm. “Let the game begin.”
Her party began exactly as she’d planned. After the photographer had finished, Mamaw had her favorite brut rosé champagne served in French etched-crystal glasses, which had been in the family for generations. Mamaw preferred the wide saucers to flutes. The pink bubbles tickled her nose while she sipped. Nate was happy to scurry to his room for a special dinner on a tray and a movie. Tonight was just for her girls and she wanted it to be perfect.
The five women sat together under the glistening crystal chandelier in the sage-green dining room. Mamaw had removed the leaves of the Sheraton table to create a more intimate circle. The candlelight glimmered against the family silver and crystal. From time to time, Mamaw caught the scent of the white roses in the centerpiece.
She leaned back in her chair and looked around her table at the four faces. Conversation flowed seamlessly around stories of shared memories of summers long gone. At some point between the fishing and the champagne, even Dora had lost the chip on her shoulder and engaged enthusiastically. The eldest of Mamaw’s granddaughters, Dora had a picture-perfect memory for details that brought her stories alive. Mamaw thought how she’d inherited this quality from Parker.
Carson’s laughter rang out. She’d always loved to laugh and wasn’t shy about it. Carson was quick with an aside that added punch to a story and was fearless with her opinions, delivered with a tease rather than a jab. She, too, could spin a yarn.
Only Harper remained reserved. Not shy, she was amiable and laughed at the stories. But rarely did she add to the conversation. Yet when she made the rare comment, it was clever and displayed a sharp wit. Mamaw listened, her eyes gleaming over the rim of her wineglass, marveling at this previously unrevealed side of her granddaughter.
Mamaw watched her girls tasting the different courses of food, sampling the wines, making surprisingly well-informed comments on the seasonings and vineyards. She felt aglow seeing them enjoying the event, smacking their lips and laughing. The mood was as bright as the flickering candles.
When the coconut cake was brought out and she’d blown out the eight candles (she’d insisted they not be ridiculous and try to squeeze eighty onto the cake), it was time for gifts. Mamaw was much more excited about what she was giving than about what she might be receiving. She’d already received many other gifts from friends. The doorbell had rung all week as the UPS and mail carriers made countless stops. Sea Breeze was filled with beautiful flower arrangements, and there were more soaps and sweets in beautiful boxes than she could ever use.
Dora nervously presented her with a beautifully wrapped box. Inside, Mamaw found a hand-knitted shawl of the softest merino wool with lovely long tassels. It was magnificent, and Mamaw was deeply moved by the handmade gift, but Dora couldn’t stop apologizing for all the perceived flaws. Mamaw thought how she really had to teach Dora to take pride in her accomplishments.
Harper surprised her with some modern contraption she called an iPad. The other girls were very impressed with the gift and huddled over it, checking out all the features, but Mamaw didn’t have the first clue how to use it. Harper promised to teach her and said something about helping her to be “plugged in.” Whatever that meant, bless her heart.
Lastly, Carson set before her a box wrapped in purple floral cloth in the Japanese furoshiki style. Mamaw was amused by this exotic wrapping, so like Carson. But she was unprepared for the gift. Inside was a stunning photograph of Mamaw sitting in her favorite wicker chair on the porch overlooking the cove. Carson had employed all her considerable skills to catch just the right amount of the reds and golds of the setting sun to add a glow to Mamaw’s skin, making her appear ethereal. It was a singular unguarded moment, not posed. Carson had captured a rare wistfulness in her expression, a fierce tenderness that each of the girls recognized and was deeply moved by. Mamaw looked into Carson’s eyes and thanked her. As she spoke the words, she wondered at the perspicacity of the woman who could capture glimpses of someone’s soul.
After the waiters cleared away the last of the dishes, Mamaw signaled for them to pour another round of champagne. At last she’d come to the moment for which she’d been waiting so long.
“Now it’s my turn to give you each a present,” she announced.
“We get presents?” Dora asked, brows raised in surprise.
The girls all sat straighter in their chairs, eyes as wide as saucers as Mamaw bent to pick up the black beaded bag from beside her chair. From this she retrieved one velvet pouch after the other, then handed the appropriate ones to her granddaughters. Suddenly there was a flurry of movement and high-pitched squeals as the room echoed with a chorus of oohs and aahs. The girls leaped to their feet to deliver kisses to Mamaw amid declarations of love and thanks that made her head swirl. She grinned from ear to ear, thinking how much they looked like butterflies in her garden, landing on one flower, then the next, as they whirled to help each other fasten their pearl necklaces. Then, in a rush of giggles, they ran off to admire themselves in her bathroom mirror.
Mamaw and Lucille remained at the table, smiling and raising their champagne glasses in a toast to their success. Soon, the girls returned and took their seats at the table, their faces suffused with pleasure. Mamaw eyed them carefully, to see if there was any sign of someone being disappointed, or perhaps a trade in the bathroom. To her relief, each of the girls appeared delighted with the necklace chosen for her.
Lucille and Mamaw exchanged a meaningful glance and Lucille immediately rose, tactfully excused herself, and left to handle the final details of the caterer’s departure. Mamaw’s gaze floated around the table, resting on each of the girls glowing happily in her necklace—Dora in her opera-length pink pearls, Carson in her dark South Sea pearls, and Harper wreathed in the creamy three-strand choker. Each girl had grown up to be a beauty in her own right. She couldn’t have loved them any more than she did at this moment. Now she had to pray for the strength to challenge them. She picked up her silver spoon and tapped her crystal glass, drawing the attention of the girls. Talking ceased and all eyes turned to her.
“My precious dears,” she began. She was surprised again by the nervousness that swept over her. She cleared her throat and pushed on. “It’s been too long since we’ve spent time together at Sea Breeze. I hope that you all have felt that this was your home, a place to come to whenever you wished.”