The Summer's End

“And yet”—Granny James arched a brow—“you seem to be managing my granddaughter quite well.”

Taylor’s brows furrowed in anger. Granny James licked her lips, glad to see that she’d at last gotten a rise out of him.

“If you think that I am managing Harper, then you don’t know your granddaughter very well.”

“Oh, I think I know her far better than you,” she replied haughtily, then elucidated, “Harper is a people pleaser. She gives of herself, especially to those she loves.”

Taylor crossed his arms and looked at Imogene steadily.

“My daughter, Harper’s mother, I’m ashamed to say, is a narcissist. Her love of self and her career is paramount. She has little room for others in her life. Never has had, even as a child. Not even for her own child. She has railroaded that girl to fit her own mold since the day she was born. She used Harper’s gentle, willing nature against her.”

“Abused, don’t you mean?”

Granny James scoffed. “Please. It was not all that unfortunate. She lived a life of privilege. Was well cared for. She was never abused.”

“Neglect can be worse than physical abuse.”

Granny James felt a shaft of shame shoot through her heart. “That’s not true.”

“It is true. As Harper would say, look it up.”

Imogene was shaken and griped her fingers together. “Even if it is true, for all her selfish motives, Georgiana wants the best for her daughter. Harper has had every advantage. My husband and I, too, have seen to it that she will want for nothing.”

“Perhaps nothing material. Things that money can buy. If you’re referring to her trust fund, you do know that Harper already rejected that?”

“To marry you.”

After a challenging silence, Taylor said, “Even before she agreed to one day be my wife, Harper chose her own path. It just happened to be the opposite of what her mother wanted for her.”

“Her mother is a very strong, determined person. Rather, I think, like you.” Imogene paused for effect. “You must know Harper has always let herself be controlled by Georgiana’s will.”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure she’s not doing the same with you?”

Taylor’s face went very still, and Imogene knew her words had hit their mark. He paused, put his hands on his hips, and looked at his feet. When he lifted his head to speak, his words were measured. “I admit, I was worried about that.”

Granny James appreciated his honesty. It surprised her, as few things did any longer.

Taylor narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. “The difference is, I love her.”

He, too, hit his mark. “I believe you,” Granny James said softly.

Taylor’s face softened.

“However”—Granny James looked him squarely in the eye—“if you truly love her, you’ll let her go. Harper has a brilliant mind. With her education, her connections, her experience and talent, she can rise to the top of her career. Yet you would keep her here? A big fish in a small pond?”

Taylor shifted his weight and clasped his hands behind his back. When a smile cracked his stern expression, Granny James was taken aback.

“I wonder how well you know Harper, after all. Not Harper the child, but the woman she is today. She is not one to be pushed around. That was at the crux of her argument with her mother. Georgiana ordered her to come back to New York. And Harper said no.”

“And you told her to stay. And she said yes.”

Taylor rubbed his jaw and laughed lightly. “She’s not some trained animal who responds to come and stay. Give her some credit. She knows her own mind. She came to the decision to stay here all on her own.”

Imogene shrugged in the Gallic manner that implied we’ll see.

“Mrs. James, are you aware that she doesn’t want to be an editor?”

Imogene’s eyes widened with surprise. “What?”

As though on cue, Harper came out on the porch, her face aglow with happiness. She wore a soft, strapless blush gown that swirled around her slender legs as she made her way across the porch to their sides.

“There you are!” she sang out, immediately linking arms with Taylor. Looking from Imogene to Taylor, she said, “Oh, my, such serious faces. Granny, are you giving my fiancé the third degree? Nails pulled out? Waterboarding? I should warn you, Taylor’s a Marine. He’s trained to withstand such treatment.”

Taylor laughed and patted her hand on his arm. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Granny James looked at Taylor shrewdly and said with a smile to reassure her granddaughter, “He handled himself quite well.”

“We should go. We don’t want to hold up dinner.” Harper reached up on tiptoe to lightly kiss Taylor. “We’re the guests of honor.”

This was her favorite time of a dinner party, Mamaw thought satisfactorily as the catering staff cleared away the last of the plates. When the push of the meal was finished, the dishes were cleared away, and her guests were sated with good food and good wine. Many toasts had been offered tonight, and the conversation had been lively. Now they were ready to settle into brandy or coffee.

Mamaw leaned back in her chair and let her gaze wander from face to face. Girard, Dora, Nate, Taylor, Harper, Carson, Devlin. All of them dear. Her gaze fell on Imogene. Well, almost all, she amended. She wanted to always remember this night, like a photograph that she could bring out from time to time when the girls were gone and she was alone at the retirement home. Her girls were radiant tonight. Her summer girls, she thought with a smile. The dears were thoughtful and had all worn the pearls that she had given them the night of her party when they’d arrived at Sea Breeze in May.

Harper was wearing the triple-strand necklace of gleaming ivory pearls with the ruby-and-diamond clasp. They showed off her creamy complexion perfectly and punctuated the striking red color of her hair. The showy choker made Harper look like a queen tonight, as well she should on this occasion. Tonight was her night. Her face shone with joy and confidence. Mamaw had never before seen her so lovely.

Dora looked chic with her blond hair wound in a French twist and the boat neck of her gorgeous scarlet dress. A perfect accompaniment to the opera-length strand of pearls that dripped down her voluptuous body. Marietta had worn that impressive strand at her wedding and had a special fondness for it. Thirty-six inches of perfectly matched pearls. Over the summer, Dora had gained a luster that was a match for them.