Beryl sat on the porch of her childhood home and watched as her mom’s old bulldog waddled along behind her sister’s big black Lab, Norman, trying to sniff his hind end. “Flan-o,” she called. “Could you try to be a little more ladylike?” But Flannery ignored her and continued to stop and pee wherever Norman peed.
Rumer looked up from husking corn and laughed. “She’s just reclaiming her territory.”
Isak took a sip of her wine and added, “It was her territory first, and she can’t understand why it smells like Norman everywhere.”
“She’s too much,” Beryl said with a resigned sigh, reaching for another ear of corn. “Is this corn from Kimberly’s?”
“Yup. Just picked this morning,” Rumer said.
“I wonder if we should get our corn for the clambake from them.”
“You should. They have the sweetest corn around.”
Beryl nodded. “Maybe we’ll stop and talk to John on our way home.”
Isak reached for an ear. “How come Micah’s parents aren’t coming tonight?”
“His dad hasn’t been feeling well,” Beryl confided. “He’s a little evasive about what’s going on,” she added quietly, “but Micah says he’s always been that way.”
“Will’s parents are like that too,” Rumer said with a sympathetic nod. “I hate it when people aren’t forthcoming. Whatever it is, just come out with it.”
Beryl stacked several ears of corn on the arm of her chair. “They also had a Canada goose killed in their yard.”
“Oh, no!” Rumer said. “That’s awful.”
“It is awful. The same pair has been nesting on their pond for years, and the other night, the female was killed by a fox . . . and now her mate keeps calling for her.”
“That’s so sad,” Isak said, reaching for another ear. “Don’t geese mate for life?”
“They do,” Beryl said. “And now Micah’s parents are worried about what will happen to him. He’s so heartbroken.”
“Okay,” Micah interrupted, coming out on the porch with a plate in his hands. “Who’s having a burger and who’s having a hot dog?”
Isak frowned. “I thought we were having steak. . . .”
Micah laughed. “I knew that would get you going,” he teased, and as he went down the steps to the grill, Isak threw a cushion at him.
“You’re not funny, Coleman,” she called.
Beryl laughed. “Micah is really looking forward to Bermuda,” she confided softly. “He’s like a little kid. He even bought a new bathing suit.”
Rumer laughed. “I’m so jealous. Will and I never got to go on a honeymoon.”
“Micah and Beth never did either.”
“Well, you guys are going to have such a good time.”
Beryl nodded. “I hope so. I hope there aren’t any hurricanes.”
“You don’t need to worry,” Isak reassured. “Hurricane season doesn’t really get going until September.”
As she said this, Matt and Will came around the corner of the house, and Matt stopped to admire the porch Will had just restored. “It needed new flooring and posts.”
“Well, it looks great,” Matt said with a nod. “Everything you’ve done to this old place looks great.”
“Thanks,” Will said. “We still have a long way to go. Ru wants to re-do the kitchen, but I’m so busy right now I think it’s going to have to wait until winter.”
“I heard that,” Rumer called over the railing, and Matt and Will both laughed as they walked over to join Micah at the grill.
“You’re not supposed to be doing that,” Will said apologetically.
“Not a problem,” Micah said with a grin.
“Well, can I at least get you a beer?”
“Sure,” Micah said.
“How about you, Matt?”
“Sounds good.”
“Are the steaks almost ready?” Rumer called.
“Just turning ’em now,” Micah called back.
Will came back out on the porch with three frosty bottles as Rumer gathered up the corn. “Hon, can you round up Charlotte and Rand. I think he’s showing her the tree house,” she said.
Will nodded and held the door for her.
Beryl and Isak picked up the ears they’d husked and followed Rumer inside, and as Isak refilled their wine glasses and Beryl pulled salads out of the fridge, Rumer plunged the corn into the steaming pot on the stove.
Moments later, giggling Charlotte chased her new cousin into the kitchen with Norman at their heels and Flan waddling as fast as she could to keep up. “Go wash up, Char,” Micah commanded as he held the platter of sizzling steaks up so it wouldn’t get knocked from his hand.
“You too, Rand,” Will called.
When they were all finally seated around the kitchen table, Rand reached eagerly for an ear of corn, but Charlotte nudged him and whispered, “Grace!”
Rand frowned, and Rumer raised her eyebrows. “You know what grace is.”
Sheepishly, Rand bowed his head, and everyone else turned to look at Micah.
“Me?” he said with a groan.
“Might as well be you,” Matt said matter-of-factly. “You’re closer to the cloth than any of us.”
Micah shook his head, but then looked down and paused reflectively. Before he spoke, he glanced around the table at the bowed heads—including Rand’s and Charlotte’s, whose eyes were squeezed shut—waiting, and he bowed his head again. “Thank you, Father,” he began softly, “for the blessing of a beautiful summer day . . . a bountiful table . . .” And then, in traditional Coleman style, he paused before adding, “And a big, crazy, wonderful family.”
They all chuckled, and Beryl squeezed his hand.
“Amen!” Matt said, holding up his drink.
A chorus of voices responded, “Amen!” and then cheerful chatter and laughter filled the kitchen as bowls of potato salad, Caesar salad, and Beryl’s famous three bean salad circled the table, followed by steak, corn on the cob, and deviled eggs.