“So, Dad,” Micah said, reaching for the garlic bread. “I’ve been telling Beryl about the famous Coleman family chowder, and I was wondering if you might be willing to make a big pot of it for the clambake.”
Asa smiled. “I can’t see why not. In fact, I’d be honored.” Then he eyed his granddaughter. “But only if Charlotte will help shuck the clams.”
“I will!” Charlotte said, beaming.
Her grandfather nodded. “And maybe we can get Asher to help too.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Micah said. And then he added conspiratorially, “Then Beryl will realize she’s not the only one with delicious old family recipes.” He winked at her as he said this and she laughed.
“This baked ziti is delicious,” Beryl said, turning to Maddie.
“That’s very kind of you, hon, although I’m sure it’s nothing like your mom’s. Micah raved about her sauce for weeks after you made it last winter. In fact, I was wondering if you might share the recipe with me sometime.”
“I’d be happy to.”
Maddie took a sip of her wine. “So how are the wedding plans coming?”
Beryl nodded and held up one finger. “Good,” she said after swallowing.
“I think a clambake is a wonderful idea, and by the middle of August, the local corn will be in season too. Have you decided if you’re going to use a caterer?”
“We are,” Micah confirmed. “Laney gave us the name of a friend of hers—Lucy Paxton, who has a catering company called A Moveable Feast.”
Asa chuckled. “What a great name.”
“I know. Anyway, she comes highly recommended, and we want to make it as easy as possible for Laney, especially since Noah said yes to the wedding without asking her first.”
Beryl looked up in surprise. “He did?”
Micah nodded. “He constantly forgets to tell her stuff. Or he assumes she’ll love whatever idea he has, and she’s always so forgiving and easygoing about it. She truly is a saint. He even brought home that puppy without asking her.”
“I didn’t know that,” Maddie said. “Although that puppy is cute—I can’t imagine she’d be able to say no.”
Asa leaned back in his chair. “Have you seen her?”
“No, not yet,” Micah said, taking a bite of his bread.
Asa nodded toward Charlotte and smiled. “Well, you-know-who will fall in love immediately. In fact, you should ask Noah if there are any left in the litter.”
Micah looked at his dad over Charlotte’s head, hoping she hadn’t realized what he was suggesting. “I think we have enough going on, Dad. Besides we already have Flan and Thoreau,” he added, referring to the two senior citizens Beryl had inherited from her mom. Flannery was her mom’s beloved, homely old bulldog and Thoreau was her sweet, orange tiger cat.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot about those two old coots,” Asa said with a chuckle. “Well, a puppy would definitely put a hop in their step,” he added, his blue eyes sparkling mischievously. “After all, look how much Flan loves Harper!”
“Can we, Dad?” Charlotte piped brightly.
Micah eyed his father and then patiently explained to his soon-to-be seven-year-old daughter why a puppy wasn’t a good idea at the moment. Beryl smiled at the way he handled it—he was such a good dad and she could only hope to be as good a mom.
“Anyway,” Micah said, turning back to his parents. “We haven’t had a chance to get to the Cape, but we have to soon because we need to meet with the caterer and finalize the menu. We also need to talk to Laney and Noah about the rest of the arrangements. I’m thinking we should get a tent in case the weather doesn’t cooperate, and if we’re going to get a tent, it would be fun to get a dance floor too.” He paused. “We’re also going to ask Asher if he’d be the ring boy.”
Maddie smiled. “He’d love that! He’s such a gentle soul—just like his mom. Did Dad tell you he recited all of ‘Jesse James’ the other night?”
“No,” Micah said, recalling the familiar poem his dad used to recite to them when they were younger.
“Yep,” Asa said with a nod. “Not a single mistake.”
“That’s amazing,” Micah said, obviously impressed.
“Laney says he’s been having a hard time at school though,” Maddie continued. “An older boy on the bus has been pushing him around and calling him names. He even broke his glasses.”
“Oh, no,” Beryl said. “That’s awful.”
“Did they call the school?” Micah asked.
“Well, they know the boy’s mother, and Noah tried to call her but he was never able to get through, and then the boy had some kind of altercation with his older brother and they’ve both been kicked off the bus. In fact, I think the older one has actually been expelled.”
Beryl took a sip of her wine. “I don’t know why some kids are so mean.”
“It begins at home,” Asa said matter-of-factly. “In all our years of teaching,” he said, nodding to Maddie, “it’s the kids that come from broken homes or have parents that don’t discipline them that get in the most trouble.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Maddie said, eyeing him. “We’ve both had kids from the same family who have parents that are involved”—she looked at Micah and Beryl—“but then one child can be as good as gold and the other can be Mr. Mischief. It depends on their personalities.”
Beryl laughed. “That’s like my sisters and me. We came from the same home, but we’re as different as can be . . . and Isak was definitely Miss Mischief!”
Asa laughed. “That’s true, your sister did have a mischievous streak,” he said, remembering Beryl’s older sister from his tenth-grade English class and the cross-country team he coached. “But I still think home life plays a big part . . . in most cases,” he added, eyeing his wife, waiting for her to agree.
“Most,” she conceded, “but not all.”
Beryl turned to Maddie. “Micah said you used to work with special needs kids.”
“I did. My older brother Tim had Down Syndrome and he inspired me.”
Beryl nodded. “Micah told me about Tim,” she said softly. “Did he tell you that Henry Finch works in the tea shop now?”
“He did. How’s he doing?”
“Really well. He’s very conscientious.”
“I’ve known Henry since he was a little boy. He was in my Excel preschool class—and this was before autism was as widely understood. His mom, Callie, is the nicest person.”
“She is. She picks him up every day, and Honey, his golden retriever, is always waiting for him. Callie told me Honey has made a huge difference in Henry’s life.”
Maddie nodded. “Well, when Henry was little, he didn’t talk at all, but then a yellow Lab named Springer came into his life, and they developed a very special bond. It helped him open up. Animals have an amazing effect on kids with autism. There’s even a place in New York—Guiding Eyes for the Blind—that specializes in guide dogs, but some of the dogs that aren’t cut out to be guide dogs are now trained to work with kids who have autism. The program is called Heeling Autism. They’ve had some remarkable results.”
Beryl nodded.
“Back to the wedding,” Maddie said with a smile. “Any idea how many people?”
“Well, I wish we could invite everyone,” Micah replied, “but even if we only invite family, the number would hit sixty-five, and I don’t think Noah’s septic tank could handle that.”
“They make fancy porta-potties now,” Asa offered with a grin. “You could get a couple of those.”
“That’s a thought,” Micah said with a laugh. “But I also don’t want to put a strain on their marriage. We’ll have to get a sense of things when we see them.”
“What else are you going to have at the clambake?” Maddie asked.
Micah sopped up the last of his sauce with a piece of bread. “The traditional fare—steamers, mussels, lobster tails, red potatoes, corn on the cob . . . and filet mignon for anyone who’s not fond of seafood.”
“And a cake?”
“Nope.” Micah grinned. “Laney’s going to make her grandmother’s peach cobbler.”
“Mmm . . . that sounds good,” Maddie said with a smile.
Micah nodded. “Noah is trying to convince Laney to go to Georgia to get the peaches so he can put in a new kitchen while she’s gone.”
“Does she know that?”
Micah laughed. “What do you think?”
Maddie shook her head. “Well, you guys let us know if you need help with anything. Dad’s happy to make the chowder, but we can also help take care of some of the expenses. Maybe the bar and the dance floor? By the way, if you’re going to have a dance floor, you must be planning on music. Are you getting a band?”
“Nope. We’re going to see if Gabe would DJ. He seems to know a lot about music.”
“Well, it sounds like it’s all coming together,” Maddie said as she stood to clear. “Oh!” She looked at Beryl. “Did you get a dress?”
“Not yet,” Beryl said. “As soon as Laney’s done with school, my sisters and I are going to meet her in Boston. And I was going to see if you’d like to come too.”
“That would be fun,” Maddie said. “Just let me know when.” She looked over at Asa and realized his face was very pale.
Micah followed her gaze. “What’s the matter, Dad?”
Asa squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t know. I seem to be getting a headache.”
“Do you want to lie down?”
“No, no, I’ll be fine,” he said, rubbing his temple.
A shadow of worry fell across Maddie’s face, but she didn’t say anything. “Who’d like coffee?”
“I would,” Micah said, standing to help clear. He looked at Beryl. “Tea?”
“Whatever’s easier,” Beryl said.
“It’s not hard to put on a kettle,” Micah said.
“Okay,” she said with a smile. “Tea.”
“Dad?”
“I’ll have some coffee. Maybe it’ll help my head.”
Micah reached for his dad’s plate, but then realized he’d hardly touched his food. “Are you finished?”
Asa nodded, and Micah took his plate and followed Maddie into the kitchen. At his heels was Harper, who’d been patiently waiting for a tidbit. Micah scraped a little ziti from his dad’s plate into her bowl, and then set the plates on the counter and reached for his mom’s tea kettle. “What’s up with Dad?”
Maddie busied herself making coffee and avoided her son’s eyes. “He’s been getting some headaches,” she said. “What kind of tea would Ber like?”
“What do you have?”
“The usual—Earl Grey, Darjeeling, Lady Earl . . .”
“Let me ask.” A moment later, he reappeared and reached for the Darjeeling. “So has he been to the doctor?”
“He has. This blueberry pie looks like a picture,” she said admiringly. “Did Beryl make it?” she asked, rummaging through the utensil drawer for the pie spatula and the ice-cream scoop.
“She did. And what did the doctor say?” Micah pressed.
“Tylenol helps. Can you bring the whipped cream and the plates?” she called as she disappeared into the dining room with the pie.
Micah got out the whipped cream, picked up the plates, and followed her, and because he wasn’t getting any answers from his mother, he turned to his dad. “How long have you been getting headaches?”
Asa looked up, and Maddie realized that the color had returned to his tan cheeks. “All my life,” he said with a grin. Then he added, “Wow! That pie looks like a picture!”