Beatrice Turner made it to the top of Cass’s steps, glad the porch on this million-dollar beach home was so big. She turned to face her crew, and she held up both hands to get their attention. There were ten of them descending on her friends, and they’d taken two cars to get to this tip of the island.
“Everyone,” she called, waving her hands. “Listen up.”
Her daughter Meredith joined her on the porch, along with her husband. Stewart put his arm around Meredith almost protectively, and they exchanged a glance that only a married couple can. An entire conversation lived in that moment, but Bea didn’t understand it as well as she used to.
“Ted,” she said as her middle child laughed loudly with his girlfriend. Bea had cried when her children had all arrived at the beach house where she live
