“I’ve heard that before. It’s starting to go to my head.”
Austin was still laughing as he took the stairs, two at a time, to the second floor. Robyn had just started for the family room when her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and smiled.
“I miss you,” she said by way of greeting.
Her great-aunt Lillian laughed. “Then come visit me, darling.”
Robyn sank onto the oversized sofa. “How are you? Feeling all right?”
“Never better.”
“Salvia is taking good care of you?”
“You know she is.”
Salvia had been with Lillian a decade, but still, Robyn worried. Lillian was ninety-four and getting more frail by the year. Her mind was as sharp as ever, but there had been a fall three years ago and a bad cold she’d taken months to shake.
“So how are you?” Lillian asked. “How are Harlow and Austin?”
Robyn hesitated before saying, “They’re good. Harlow seems to be enjoying working for her dad, and Austin’s loving his summer after high school.”
Which was all true, but somehow missed the spirit of what was happening in her life, Robyn thought, ignoring the surge of guilt.
“Have you listed the house?”
“Not yet. There are considerations. Austin for one.”
“He’ll be happy as long as he’s with you.”
Robyn smiled. “Probably. But Harlow still wants to have her wedding here.”
“She’s too young to get married.”
“Feel free to tell her that. She won’t listen to me.”
Lillian laughed. “Tell her to call me and I will. Oh, I know. Sell the house, but explain to the new owners they have to let you host a wedding in their backyard.”
“I wish that were a possibility.” She switched the phone to her other ear. “I really do miss you.”
“Then come see me. I’m old, Robyn. I could die tomorrow.”
Icy hands clutched her heart. “Please don’t say that.”
“It’s true. Fly out for a few weeks. The weather is perfect, and your room is always waiting.” Lillian’s voice turned teasing. “I’ve made a couple of changes you’ll find interesting.”
“What does that mean?”
“Come visit me to find out.”
“Now I’m intrigued.”
“Excellent. I mean it, darling. I want to see you.”
“Let me work on it.”
“All right. I’m off to watch the sunset. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
* * *
Harlow and Enid scored a corner table on the restaurant’s patio. Overhead fans stirred the humid air just enough to make sitting outside tolerable.
“Tonight’s on me,” Harlow said, studying the specials listed on the blackboard by the bar. “We’re still celebrating you getting into medical school.”
Enid shook her head. “That’s old news. I leave in eight weeks.”
Harlow looked at her friend. “Nervous?”
“Terrified. The first year is supposed to be so hard.”
“But you’re the smartest person I know. You’ll be fine.”
“What if I fail?”
Harlow reached across the table and grabbed her hands. “What if you get all A’s?”
“Unlikely.”
“There’s that optimistic spirit I admire,” she teased. “You were nervous about high school, and you aced that. You were freaked about college because, and I quote, ‘All the smart kids will be in one place.’ You graduated top of your class. Medical school is no different.”
“I wish that were true.”
Harlow grinned. “When have I ever been wrong?”
Enid smiled. “You do have a good track record.”
Harlow waved over their server and ordered two pi?a colada sunrises, jalape?o poppers, chicken-and-mango skewers and coconut shrimp.
Enid grinned. “All my favorites.”
“Of course. You got into Johns Hopkins School of Medicine. You’re my hero.”
“I still can’t believe it.” She lowered her voice. “I’m really excited.”
“You should be. You’ll be a terrific doctor. And for the record, you don’t have to study pediatric oncology.”
Enid’s dark eyes widened. “But I want to.”
“You’re still starstruck by the doctors I had when I was little. Maybe you’d prefer to be a gynecologist. Or a neurosurgeon.”
“I promise to keep an open mind, even though I’m certain about my decision.”
“You can’t keep an open mind and be certain. They’re mutually exclusive.”
“You know what I mean,” Enid said with a laugh.
Harlow nodded, knowing there was no reasoning with her friend on this topic. When she’d been diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia, or ALL, she’d been all of seven. She’d been too young to understand how sick she was, but everything about her treatment had scared her, especially the worry and terror in her mother’s eyes. Enid had been a constant in her life. Her friend had insisted on visiting regularly, bringing dolls and books to keep Harlow company. She’d been fearless when Harlow had thrown up for weeks, lost her hair and been too weak to raise her head.
While Harlow’s parents had insisted all would be well, Enid had looked up ALL and reported her findings to her friend. It was only then Harlow had realized how close she was to dying. The revelation had sent her parents into a frenzy, but she’d felt better knowing the truth.
Their drinks arrived, drawing Harlow back to the present. She raised her glass. “To Enid—my amazing friend.”
“I’m not amazing, but thank you.”
They touched glasses then sipped.
“So,” Harlow said with a laugh. “About the wedding…”
Enid opened the timer app on her phone. “Seventeen minutes,” she said, pushing a button. “You have seventeen minutes to monopolize the conversation with wedding talk.”
Harlow laughed. “I love that you’re not going to let me turn into a bridezilla. So, Kip says I should plan the wedding of my dreams. I can’t decide if he’s being supportive or avoiding making any decisions.”
“It’s probably both. Guys don’t fantasize about their weddings the way a lot of girls do. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you.”
“I know, but I wish he wanted to be a little more involved.”
“Maybe when you nail down some specifics, he’ll be interested.”
Harlow knew she was right. “Venue and date matter the most. I’m still thinking my mom’s beautiful backyard.”
Enid’s expression turned doubtful. “If you’re planning on next summer, it could be hot and humid, or worse, raining. Do you want to risk an outdoor wedding?”
“We could get a tent.”
“So, a tent in the rain? Harlow, don’t you want to get married inside?”
Harlow laughed. “No, little library mouse. I like the outdoors. I want to feel the grass in my toes.”
“You’re not wearing shoes?”
“Metaphorically.”
“Or you could find a really nice venue with green carpeting. I’m just saying.”