All Summer Long: A Novel Part 41

"It looks like it!" Bob said. "Maybe we ought to pop a cork on a bottle of bubbles!"

Olivia hurried to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of champagne from the chiller and grabbed a handful of flutes. Bob opened the bottle and filled their gla.s.ses.

"To the mother-to-be! Be healthy and may your baby be as beautiful as you are!" Bob said.

"Cheers!" everyone said and took a sip.

"And one more!" Bob said. "Here's to nepotism. To my wonderful son, who is about to embark on a steep and difficult climb from the very bottom to the absolute top of his old man's business! Good luck!"

Everyone laughed and cheered them both.

Finally they sat down to dinner, and a wonderful dinner it was.

"Bob! You're quite the grill man!" Olivia said.

"Thanks!" Bob said.

"This is absolutely delicious!" Nick said.

"Steak is so good, Dad," Daniel said. "I'd forgotten how delicious red meat can be."

"Good, son," Bob said.

Daniel had given up on vegan life and so had Kitty.

"I'm so hungry all the time," she said.

"Feed your baby, sugah," Maritza said. "That child's hungry!"

"Maritza? May I ask you a question?" Betty said. Maritza nodded. "Ernest and I have not been able to figure this out. How did you get from the boat to Mississippi?"

"Yes!" Olivia said. "How did you do it?"

"That's my little secret," Maritza said. "Maybe I'll tell you one day."

"I'll tell you how she did it," Bob said. "She hid in the musician's boat, took a taxi to the airport, got on a commercial flight, flew to Atlanta, and picked up a connection to Jackson, Mississippi. Then she rented a car and drove home."

"What?" Olivia said, shocked.

"Oh really?" Maritza said. "And how did I do that without a pa.s.sport, a credit card, and a driver's license?"

"Yes! That's the part we couldn't figure out!" Ernest said.

"Because my beautiful daughter is absolutely brilliant!" Martha Ann said, adding, "You know what, Olivia? I think your Johns Island tomatoes are better than mine! Not much, but a smidgen!"

Olivia laughed. "Well, thanks!"

Bob said, "I'll tell you how she did it. She borrowed her friend Jessica's ID."

"Women!" Nick said. "Very crafty!"

"You devil! How did you find out?" Maritza said.

Bob took a sip of the rare 1983 Bordeaux he had opened for the evening. Maritza, Olivia, Nick and he were the only ones drinking it. Martha Ann and Ernest sipped bourbon and the others drank iced tea. Bob put down his fork and knife.

"Because on Le Bateau de l'Amour, Captain Jack hands out the mail, right? When he saw your return address in Cartaret, he got suspicious and made her open it in front of him. He called me because he wanted to fire her. I said don't you dare because without Jessica we might not be together. That's how I found out. You're welcome. I saved Jessica's job."

"Oh, Bob! That's so romantic!" Maritza said.

"If you say so," Bob said and grinned.

"It actually is, Bob." Nick said.

"Oh! Olivia! I almost forgot to tell you! We finally got y'all a housewarming gift!"

"You're kidding! Well, that's completely unnecessary but very much appreciated." Olivia said.

"It should be waiting for you when you get back home," Bob said. "I'm pretty sure you're going to love it."

"Bob Vasile? I don't know what you've done but you sure do have a funny expression!" Olivia said.

It was late Tuesday afternoon when Olivia and Nick found themselves back at home on Sullivans Island. There were boxes and boxes from UPS waiting for them. As they began to open them they discovered all the treasures they had put up for auction at Sotheby's.

"Bob Vasile! You rascal!" Olivia said, laughing as she opened each box.

"This is a h.e.l.luva gift!" Nick said.

"Well, crazy or not, Bob Vasile is a h.e.l.luva friend."

Nick had gone down the beach to throw a hook in the water. She walked down to the ocean with him, just to see if the dolphins were around. He was so happy to be home. Eventually they had spoken about her terrible nightmare, the one in which Nick died. He had listened thoughtfully while she recounted the dream. Finally, he said to her, you know, Olivia, chances are that you'll survive me. You know that don't you? She had replied that she didn't want to think about it. And it was true. She did not want to envision one single day on the planet without Nick, much less one moment without him on the island.

There was something else about that place she couldn't pinpoint, something irrational, really, an inexplicable growing pa.s.sion in her for the perfume of this particular salted air and the exact land under her feet. It was the most powerful connection to a locale she had ever felt. She was beginning to understand why Nick loved it so. She was coming to feel she belonged to this place that had once felt so foreign. Belonging somewhere was something she had never valued until then. It was Nick who opened her mind and heart to see and then to begin to understand the magic of the Lowcountry. It defied rational thought, but just because you might not believe in something that did not mean it wasn't true.

She kicked off her sandals and sat down on the cool sand. The tide was coming in slowly, washing the sh.o.r.e, while little sandpipers pecked away at the mud and sea gulls squawked. The sounds were beautiful hypnotic music and she could've sat there for days, just watching container ships entering Charleston's harbor, ships from all over the world, bringing dreams and taking dreams away.

As Nick had hoped, the enchanted waters of Sullivans Island had exorcised her urban demons and washed them far out to sea. Nick had transplanted her there, and there she would grow. There were to be no more doubts and second thoughts. About their future? There would be lots of fresh fish, Staffordshire dogs, and laughter. She would work, he would read, and together they would enjoy their sabbatical years. It was unclear what else the future would bring. But she knew this. The Lowcountry was a powerful place, and it was home. There are couples who exist independently of each other in a marriage and those who seem like one person, finishing each other's sentences and so on. They, Nick and Olivia, had always been their own person, but now his happiness was hers. And hers was indeed his. This was marriage at its best. Olivia stood up then and looked out to sea. She watched the afternoon water as its currents ran in ripples to the east. A tiny fishing boat bobbed in the distance. A freighter crept by slowly, coming into port while a container ship inched toward her bound for some foreign destination. There were no dolphins to be seen then, but they would be back. And Nick would be coming home later. They would end this day as they would all those left to them-their love renewed, grateful for each other and happy to be together.

Acknowledgments.

Using a real person's name for a character's has been a great way to raise money for worthy causes. In this book we raised a tidy sum for the Pink Ribbon Event in Wilmington, North Carolina, thanks to the generosity of Gladys Maritza Vasile, who becomes not one but two characters in these pages-Maritza and Gladdie. I don't know if she has a husband, but I gave her one; Bob is the fellow's name and he's a billionaire. Why not? And Olivia Ritchie from Tulsa, Oklahoma, who made a generous donation to Bishop Kelly High School became a fictional wildly successful interior designer in All Summer Long and a spectacular woman I'd like to know in real life. Roni Larini, Ellen Williams, Anne Fritz, and Dorothy Kreyer, who support the Morris Plains, New Jersey, efforts to stop domestic violence, are the Greek chorus in this story and oh my goodness I think I can attest to the fact that the antics of the fictional Ellen, Anne, and Dorothy bear absolutely no resemblance to the behaviors and att.i.tudes of their namesakes! They are bad girls (sometimes very naughty) in this story but almost saintly in reality. You have to have a little wickedness to make a juicy story. Nicholas Seymour? Ah, Nick. I don't know you, but I know the Columbia Catholic School thanks you and I married you to my protagonist because I thought you made such a great couple. And last, thanks to Mich.e.l.le Bemis for supporting the Tiger Woods Foundation. I married you off to fictional Buddy Bemis, who is a plastic surgeon and a great guy. Again, I have met only a few of these folks and only ever so briefly so I can a.s.sure you that the behavior, language, proclivities, and personalities of the characters bear no resemblance to the actual people. I hope they get a hoot out of seeing their names all over these pages.

Thanks to David Fletcher, furniture maker of Kendal, England, for your fascinating work, and always to Faye Jenson of the South Carolina Historical Society for her wonderful advice and guidance.

More truth. Jason, Sam, and Elaine Fowler do indeed own Sea Island Builders and they do in fact build gorgeous houses. I hope y'all will all be pleasantly surprised to find yourselves in this drama. It was fun being reminded of you each time I wrote your names!

And Nicole Bousquet, an actual real estate broker on the island of Nantucket, found her way into these pages via the suggestion of Lynn and Steve Gla.s.ser. Tony and Martin McKerrow, formerly of Montclair and always of Nantucket, deserve special thanks for their advice about their island's history and current population. I stumbled onto Nathaniel Philbrick while doing some Nantucket research and thought it might be fun to make him a colleague of my historian character, Nicholas Seymour. Okay, to be honest, I love Philbrick's work, Mayflower, in particular, and this story gives me the chance to thank him for opening my eyes to what it was really like for our northern founding fathers to settle this country. Okay, I surrender. The Philbricks can buy the Franks a lobster roll some sunny summer day! We'd love to meet y'all.

And make sure when you're in the Lowcountry that you do stop in for lunch or dinner at The Long Island Cafe on the Isle of Palms. Say h.e.l.lo to the owner/chef, Ravi Scher, and tell everyone who works there that I sent you. I really love this charming spot and they do indeed serve the best fried shrimp I've ever had. While you're on the Isle of Palms, have dinner at Ken Vedrinski's Coda del Pesce-best crudo in town!

As always, special thanks to George Zur, who is my computer webmaster, for keeping the website alive. To Ann Del Mastro and my cousin Charles Comar Blanchard, all the Franks love you for too many reasons to enumerate!

I'd like most especially to thank my wonderful editor at William Morrow, Carrie Feron, for her marvelous friendship, her endless wisdom, and her fabulous sense of humor. This is a true story: your ideas and excellent editorial input always make my work better. I couldn't do this without you. I am blowing you bazillions of smooches from my office window in Montclair.

And to Suzanne Gluck, Alicia Gordon, Clio Seraphim, Claudia Webb, Cathryn Summerhayes, Tracy Fisher, and the whole amazing team of Jedis at WME, I am loving y'all to pieces and looking forward to more of our brilliant future together!

To the entire William Morrow and Avon team: Brian Murray, Michael Morrison, Liate Stehlik, Nicole Fischer, Lynn Grady, Tavia Kowalchuk, Kelly Rudolph, Shawn Nicholls, Frank Albanese, Virginia Stanley, Rachael Brenner Levenberg, Andrea Rosen, Caitlin McCaskey, Josh Marwell, Doug Jones, Carla Parker, Donna Waitkus, Michael Morris, Gabe Barillas, Mumtaz Mustafa, and last but most certainly not ever least, Brian Grogan: thank you one and all for the miracles you perform and for your amazing, generous support. You still make me want to dance. Not shimmy like Maritza Vasile in these pages, but a respectable dance, like a conga line?

To Debbie Zammit, it seems incredible but here we are again! Another year! Another miracle! Another year of keeping me on track, catching my mistakes and making me look reasonably intelligent by giving me tons of excellent ideas about everything. Thank you so much for all you do!

To booksellers across the land, and I mean every single one of you, I one of you, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

To my family, Peter, William, and Victoria, I love y'all with all I've got. Victoria, you are the most beautiful, wonderful daughter and I am so proud of you. You and William are so smart and so funny, but then a good sense of humor might have been essential to your survival in this house. And you all give me great advice, a quality that makes me particularly proud. Every woman should have my good fortune with their children. You fill my life with joy. Well, usually. Just kidding. And to Carmine Peluso, who recently joined our family. We love you, son, and we are so proud to claim you! Peter Frank? You are still the man of my dreams, honey. Thirty-three years and they never had a fight. It's a little incredible to realize it's only thirty-three years, especially when it feels like I've loved you forever.

It doesn't seem right to close these remarks without a nod to mark the pa.s.sing on March 4, 2016, of my great friend Pat Conroy. Pat was an incredibly generous man who changed so many people's lives in positive ways. He was the father you always wanted, the brother you never had, and the confessor you needed when life got out of hand. Like so many others, I loved him. And so many writers would agree that we will miss him every day for the rest of our lives. Rest in peace, you old Bulldog. You were the greatest. (My own father was a Citadel Bulldog, cla.s.s of 1937.) Finally, to my readers to whom I owe the greatest debt of all, I am sending you my most sincere and profound thanks for reading my stories, for sending along so many nice emails, for yakking it up with me on Facebook and for coming out to book signings. You are why I try to write a book each year. I hope All Summer Long will entertain you and give you something new to think about. There's a lot of magic down here in the Lowcountry. Please, come see us and get some for yourself! I love you all and thank you once again.

About the Author.

New York Times bestseller Dorothea Benton Frank was born and raised on Sullivans Island, South Carolina. She resides in the New York area with her husband.

Dorothea Benton Frank's most recent bestseller, All the Single Ladies, debuted at #6 on the New York Times list, where it remained in the top twenty for four weeks. It was also a USA Today bestseller, debuting at number ten.

A contemporary voice of the South in the ranks of Anne Rivers Siddons and Pat Conroy, Dorothea Benton Frank is beloved from coast to coast, thanks to her bestsellers, including The Hurricane Sisters, The Last Original Wife, Porch Lights, Folly Beach, Sullivans Island, and Plantation.

Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.

Also by Dorothea Benton Frank.

All the Single Ladies.

The Hurricane Sisters.

The Last Original Wife.

Porch Lights.

Folly Beach Lowcountry Summer.

Return to Sullivans Island.

Bulls Island The Christmas Pearl.

The Land of Mango Sunsets.

Full of Grace.

Pawleys Island Shem Creek.

Isle of Palms Plantation.

Sullivans Island.

end.