Present Day
Vivien slid the blue notebook back in the plastic Caboodle she kept under her bed, unable to wipe the smile from her face. Every once in a while, she picked up one of the diaries she’d kept all those decades ago, seeing those years through an adult’s eyes. And, she thought as she pushed up looked out at the morning sunrise, it was added fun to be in Destin once again.
In some ways, everything had changed—the beach cottage was now a six-bedroom event and the teenagers were all in their fifties. In other ways, nothing had changed. They were still the Lawsons and the Wylies doing Destin together.
Last night, many of those same faces were around an outdoor table, dining al fresco again. The “dads” were gone, sadly. The “moms” certainly weren’t sorority sister besties. But the heart of these two families was still connected and, Vivien hoped, getting stronger every day.
She stole a glance at her daughter, who slept contentedly in the huge California king bed they’d been sharing for a few months.
With Vivien attempting to rebuild her life after a divorce, and twenty-four-year-old Lacey just figuring hers out, they somehow had turned this whole unexpected adventure into amazing mother-daughter time.
This wouldn’t last, Vivien knew. Like the seasons she read about in those old diaries, this one would change. Lacey would meet someone special and Vivien would rightly become number two in her life.
That was the way of things, but wow, she was enjoying these halcyon days in Destin.
She headed into the bathroom for a hot shower, then to the closet, choosing linen pants and a light top that would easily handle the warmth of May for a busy day.
By the time she was dressed and stepped back into the room, the rising sun streamed bright through the gauzy white curtains.
“Morning.”
She turned at the sound of Lacey’s raspy greeting, seeing her sitting up, balancing a laptop on the comforter, her fingers poised over the keyboard but not typing.
“Oh, you’re awake,” Vivien said. “And working already?”
“Yeah…sort of.” She lowered the screen, looking distracted. Or maybe she was over this “season” of sharing a room with her mother. It might be dreamy and fun to Vivien, but Lacey was a young woman and probably would love some privacy. The setup wasn’t ideal, but every time they turned around, the Summer House had more guests.
The two most recent still shocking Vivien when she thought about it.
“Crista’s going home today,” she reminded Lacey. “I’m sure you’d love that room?—”
“I’m fine, Mom. Let Jo Ellen have it. She’s seventy-eight and shouldn’t sleep two floors down all alone.”
“That’s sweet, honey,” Vivien said. “Unless Jo Ellen refuses to sleep on the same level as Maggie, despite this alleged ‘ceasefire’ between them.”
“Based on the chill at dinner?” Lacey lifted her brows. “I hope nobody has a gun in this house, ceasefire or not.”
“Peter will have one,” she said on a laugh. “And he’s on his way over right now.”
“Oh?” Lacey looked at Vivien. “Are you two having breakfast dates now?”
“This isn’t a date,” Vivien said. “I actually asked for more advice for Maggie and Jo Ellen. I mean, they’re staying here with the sole purpose of unraveling the history of how my father ended up in prison. Peter has access to law enforcement files from the past. If Artie had a role in my father’s arrest…”
Her voice trailed off as she thought about the situation. Had Jo Ellen’s late—and quite great—husband been the one to put Roger Lawson behind bars? And if so, did that mean the rift between Jo Ellen and Maggie would never be healed?
Vivien knew one thing about her mother: Maggie Lawson could hold a grudge like a Rottweiler with a bone.
“Noif, since they both think Artie did turn him in,” Lacey said. “I’m not sure I understand what else they want to know.”
“They want to know why,” Vivien told her. “Whywould Arthur Wylie turn his close friend in to the police?”
“Um, because his close friend—rest my grandfather’s soul—was committing fraud, money-laundering, and tax evasion, and Artie was alaw ethicsprofessor?” Lacey snorted. “It’s not complicated.”
But it was.
Vivien nodded, all too familiar with Roger’s white-collar crimes. “If Artie was the anonymous tipster who turned my father in, like they seem to think, then it not only affects the past—it impacts our future. You work for Tessa now, and Eli iscrazy about Kate. Those relationships are at risk. Understanding Artie’s motivation might help all of us heal from the past.”
Or set us back thirty years, she thought, but chose to be optimistic and not add that.
