Free Holidays at Crescent Cove by Shelley Noble Page A

believe they were less than a mile away.
    And sometimes so far away.
    Grace had spent a good ten summers here with Margaux and Bri. She suddenly longed for those days, when life was simple, where everything was before them. But only for a second. She normally loved her life, except the estrangement from her family. But though she’d often wished for a reconciliation with her father, this last episode had finished any chance of that ever happening.
    â€œGrace.”
    Grace jumped. Margaux was standing right in front of her. She hadn’t noticed that she’d stopped walking and was standing in the middle of the gravel like a statue.
    â€œSorry. Preoccupied.”
    â€œI can tell. Come on in. I have coffee. And pumpkin bread. Jude made it. I haven’t even had time to finish the shopping for Thursday or put things away, so the place is kind of a mess.”
    Grace let Margaux lead her to the back door and through the mudroom to the kitchen.
    Grace stopped again. “It looks like a hurricane just blew through.”
    One counter was loaded with brown shopping bags. A bowl of yams sat on the kitchen table, along with a five pound bag of flour and a row of sweet onions. A second, smaller table held pie boxes stacked six high.
    â€œIt did,” Margaux said. “Nick and Connor made breakfast.” She pointed to the stack of dirty dishes in the sink. “We were running a little late this morning. Nick’s taking Connor to school but he’s coming back. The bags over there are from shopping last night. The fridge is packed. Jude’s is packed, and I’m sure Mrs. Prescott’s is, too. So bring your appetite Thursday. Mom and Nick’s mom are so glad to have everyone together that they just can’t stop cooking.”
    Grace smiled. It was so messy, and human and loving, that she had a hard time breathing.
    Margaux took two mugs down from the cabinet and poured coffee. She handed both of them to Grace and bought out two small plates and a loaf of pumpkin bread, which she cut into thick slabs. “Let’s take this out to the parlor. We might find a place to sit there.”
    The parlor was as familiar to Grace as her own apartment. Same furniture that had been there for years. And it was just as mismatched and lovingly used as ever. A stack of Margaux’s latest designs covered the top of the old knee-hole desk. A basket of trucks, books, and superheroes had been shoved into a corner. A history book lay facedown on the steamer trunk that did double duty as a coffee table. Next to it, a first grade writing tablet lay open to where Connor had been practicing writing his name. Margaux put the bread and plates down beside it.
    â€œOkay, shoot.”
    It was as if someone punctured the balloon of her emotions. Grace flopped back on the couch. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
    â€œI take it more has happened since you saw the newspaper article.” Margaux slid a plate with a slice of pumpkin bread toward her. Grace mechanically broke off a piece, sending a waft of heady spices right to her nose.
    â€œI don’t even know where to start. After you left, Jake dropped by and brought some pastries. Since I’d missed breakfast.”
    Margaux didn’t say anything, just looked at Grace over her coffee cup from the other side of the trunk where she sat cross-legged in a cabbage rose-covered easy chair.
    â€œIt was a nice thing to do. But I was still kind of shell-shocked, so he just handed me the box and left. So later I invited him and Seamus to dinner. It was the least I could do. And it was part celebration for the reopening of the boardwalk.”
    â€œHmmm,” Margaux said.
    Grace slowed down. “Then we—Jake and I—went for a drink—”
    â€œAt last,” Margaux said. “Is that what you want to talk to Nick about?”
    â€œNo. Of course not. Nothing even— He walked me home, and there on my doorstep was