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Long silver earrings dangled almost to her shoulders. She’d unbraided her hair and brushed it into a long ponytail that lay low on the back of her neck. Maggie bit her tongue. If Liddy was looking for action, the odds weren’t in her favor tonight, but Liddy was . . . Liddy.

“Thank you. Natalie helped pick it out.”

“The girl has good taste.” Liddy opened the back door and stepped outside.

“She always has.” Maggie followed Liddy out the door, down the back steps and to the car.

Maggie barely spoke on the drive to the Beach Club, built in 1860 as the home of the Wyndham Beach Ladies League of the Anti-Slavery Society. Her three-times-great-grandmother, Polly Wakefield, had been a charter member, her husband Henry having fought for the preservation of the Union. Maggie thought about Polly and Henry as she climbed the steps and approached the front door, wondering how they’d feel about the fact that none of their descendants now lived in Wyndham Beach. She suspected if they felt anything at all—and she wasn’t sure they did—they’d not be very happy.

Thoughts of the distant past vanished when Liddy grabbed Maggie’s elbow and steered her off to the right into the room known as the Fireside Room, which was set up with several round tables, a scattering of chairs, two long tables upon which an array of desserts had been displayed, and an open bar. The lights had been lowered to that precise point of bright enough to see but not harsh enough to make everyone look, well, harsh. The room was crowded, and the noise level ranged from happy chatter to boisterous laughter.

“Maggie. Three o’clock,” Liddy whispered. “Blue blazer. White turtleneck. Yellow sweater.”

Maggie looked off to her right, where a small group of men were animatedly chatting next to the bar.

“Who am I looking at?” Maggie kept her voice low as well.

“That’s Rick. Don’t you recognize him?”

“Ah, no.” Maggie tried not to stare while at the same time trying to see something familiar about him.

Liddy took a hurried step in his direction, forcing Maggie to grab her by the arm to stop her forward motion.

“Uh-uh. Too soon,” Maggie cautioned.

“Don’t be silly. If I don’t, someone else will. Come on.” And with that Liddy took off like a shot in the direction of the bar, leaving a startled Maggie in her wake.

She watched Liddy approach the group of men without hesitation, a smile on her face and a spring in her step. She took a few steps in Liddy’s direction but was waylaid by classmates who wanted to catch up. Distracted, Maggie tried to maintain attention to dual situations. She was happy to see old friends and wanted to talk, but at the same time, she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that things weren’t going to end well for Liddy, especially after she saw a woman in a short tight blue dress cut down to there scoping out the same group Liddy had joined.

Tapping her target on the shoulder, Liddy stepped back as Rick turned and greeted her warmly with a hug, as did the others in the group. After a few moments of what appeared to be lively conversation, the woman in the blue dress who’d caught Maggie’s eye drifted over and joined them, and one by one the attention of all five men began to swivel from Liddy to the newcomer.

LeeAnn . . . Maggie didn’t know what the woman’s last name was after three marriages . . . but it was pretty clear that LeeAnn was dressed for success, her impressive cleavage having led the way to the circle. The guys looked fascinated and hung on every word, and they slowly closed ranks, with LeeAnn in and Liddy gradually being eased out.

Maggie grabbed the hand of Caroline McNally, the latest friend to approach her, and said, “I told Liddy I’d meet her at the bar, and I see she’s waiting. Let’s join her for a drink.”

Maggie made a beeline toward the bar, dragging Caroline with her.

“Time for a drink,” Maggie said as she physically turned Liddy toward the bar.

“Did you see . . . ?” Liddy was understandably embarrassed.

“I did, but I don’t think anyone else did,” Maggie said under her breath. Aloud, she told Liddy, “Caroline was telling me how well she’s doing now that she’s in remission. Caroline, I think you’re remarkably strong. And you look wonderful.” Maggie signaled the bartender. “Wine, ladies? Or something else . . . ?”

When the bartender made his way to their end of the bar, Maggie ordered two glasses of pinot grigio and a sparkling water for Caroline. In the meantime, several others had gathered around them. Maggie fixed a smile on her face and let Caroline take center stage.

“Thank you. That was a really nice save,” Liddy whispered when their drinks arrived. With a glance at the corner of the bar where the men still stood talking, laughing, and flirting with LeeAnn, she added, “You’d think none of them ever saw boobs before.”

“None of them were worthy of you back then, and they’re not worthy of you now.”

“LeeAnn deliberately broke in on my conversation and she . . . she . . . oh, I’m so pissed.” Liddy tossed back her wine as if it were water. “You know, she always was obvious. Remember the class trip junior year to New York City and the way she was making out with Tony Faselli in the back of the bus?”

“We can talk when we get back to your house and you can bitch and moan as much as you want, but right now, you need to act like you didn’t even notice her.”

“Right. You’re right.” Liddy took a sip of wine.

Emma made her way over, dressed as usual in a pretty but modest dress of navy knit with a white Peter Pan collar and plain navy leather heels.

“How does she do that?” Liddy wondered. “If I wore a dress like that, I’d look like a nun. She never does.”

“That’s just Emma. She always looks just right.”

“Well, so do you. You couldn’t

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