Free That Carolina Summer (North Carolina) by Janet Dailey

you'd better look where we're going,” Robby admonished. “You nearly ran over a duck."
    She looked to the front and saw the bird taking wing. “Sorry,” she murmured.
    He looked at her. “Are you crying?"
    “No, of course not!” she denied, and blinked at the wetness welling in her gray eyes.
     

 
    Chapter Five
     
    ANNETTE ROLLED the toothpick-speared olive around the martini glass, staring absently at the hypnotic circles. Her dress of silver Chiffon swooped modestly low in the front, showing off the golden tan of her shoulders and arms. The salon's stylist had swept one side of her tawny hair away from her face, adding a touch of sophistication to her features. An artful application of makeup had enhanced the smoke gray of her eyes and the fullness of her dark lashes.
    She was oblivious to her mature appearance, just as she was oblivious to the members of her family seated around the table in the hotel's dining room. There was talk and laughter, but Annette didn't hear any of it. They had gathered to celebrate her birthday, but she didn't feel much like celebrating anything.
    “You've barely touched your martini, Annette.” Her father's voice prodded her into an awareness of them. “Is it too dry?"
    “No, it's fine,” she assured him, and let go of the pick to take a sip of the drink.
    “Do you want to taste my Shirley Temple?” Robby offered. “It's good."
    “No, thanks.” She smiled wanly. “You drink it."
    “Does Annette have to wait until after dinner to open her gifts or can we give them to her now?” Marsha asked eagerly.
    “That's up to Annette,” Kathleen replied.
    “It doesn't matter to me.” Annette indicated her indifference with a slight lift of a shoulder. “Whatever you want to do."
    “Then we'll give them to her now,” Marsha said, deciding for the rest of them. She picked up the gift-wrapped box by her chair.
    Jordan Long eyed Annette quietly. “I think everyone is more eager to give you presents than you are to receive them.” He glanced at his wife and mocked, “Are you sure it's her birthday?"
    “I'm sorry, Dad.” Annette realized she had to summon some enthusiasm for the party, regardless of her personal mood.
    “Open mine first,” Marsha urged.
    Her smile was plastic as she took the box from her sister and began loosening the bright ribbon. Marsha's expression was alive with animation, her blue eyes sparkling like sapphires. Annette couldn't help thinking how beautiful Marsha was when she forgot to be self-conscious.
    “It has to be clothes.” Annette started the guessing game their family always played while opening presents. “I'll bet you bought me something blue—so you can borrow it."
    “Wait and see,” Marsha laughed.
    When she lifted the lid, Annette discovered she had been half-right. A soft summer lilac slacks-and-top set was hidden in folds of tissue. “It's beautiful,” she said, assuring Marsha that she liked the gift, and added a laughing, “And it isn't blue."
    “Now it's my turn,” Robby insisted. “Open mine!"
    Sensitive to his fragile child's ego, Annette went through the full wide-eyed pretense of guessing what was inside the paper-flat package. Robby was giggling wildly at her absurd guesses. He'd drawn her a picture of Wrightsville Beach, complete with the two of them in a pedal boat. Not that Annette recognized either of the stick figures, but Robby pointed them out and identified them for her.
    “I'll hang it up on my bedroom wall when we get home,” she promised. “We'll make a frame and everything for it.” And Robby was certain he had given her the most prized gift of all. He couldn't know the scene contained bittersweet memories.
    “Here.” Her father placed a small gift-wrapped box in front of her. “This is from Kathleen and me."
    “I can hardly wait until you open it,” Marsha murmured anxiously.
    “Do you know what it is?” Annette asked.
    “Yes. Daddy showed it to me,” her sister admitted.
    “Something this