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With Patrick gone, Nellie and Frankie nestled into bed on either side of Sophie as Ida set up a streaming service on the large television.
“Good thing Grandma Agatha bought this big TV to watch her soaps,” Ida joked.
“Does she still watch those?” Sophie was incredulous, remembering the hours of Grandma Agatha’s life in which she’d spent captivated by melodramatic daytime stories.
“Now that she’s in the nursing home, she’s caught up in her own dramas,” Ida said with a laugh. “I swear, it’s worse than high school.” Ida’s eyes shimmered with secrecy. “Mom mentioned she thinks Grandma has a boyfriend. But it’s not confirmed.”
“What!” Nellie and Frankie cried in unison.
“Who’s the guy?” Sophie asked. It warmed her heart to think of her eighty-five-year-old grandmother flirting girlishly. Romance never died. It lay dormant within everyone, waiting for an initial spark.
“Mom says she thinks it’s some guy named Ben,” Ida explained. “He passes by Grandma’s room all the time and gives her little candies. He dotes on her.”
Sophie’s heart swelled. Her grandmother deserved this flirtation, whatever it was. For decades, she’d been married tosomeone whose idea of flirtation was getting drunk and passing out on the hallway floor. Agatha had been through too much. Maybe her icy heart would begin to melt.
Ida ordered pizza online—five different pies and breadsticks—and announced it would be a little more than forty minutes before they arrived. Nellie and Frankie squabbled about what movie to begin with for their evening marathon.Legally Blondewas in the running, as wasFriends with Benefits.
“I never liked Justin Timberlake’s hair,” Ida said, wrinkling her nose.
“Girls, he was huge when we were your age,” Sophie remembered, feeling ancient as stone. “We couldn’t get away from him.”
“I tried,” Ida said. “But he’s always lurking around the corner. Now, even my daughters want to watch his movie!”
Nellie and Frankie giggled.
“I think he’s kind of cute,” Nellie admitted.
Ida clapped her hands over her face dramatically. “I’ve failed as a mother.”
Eventually, Nellie suggestedSweet Home Alabama, and they settled in, ears perked for the sound of the doorbell. Immediately, they were drawn into the world of small-town Alabama, long-lost loves, and second chances—themes that made the four of them swoon.
When the doorbell rang, Nellie popped up, paused the television, and said, “That must be the pizza!” She hurried to the door with Frankie hot on her heels. But when they opened it, they squealed in recognition. “Grandma!”
Sophie’s heartbeat quickened, and her tongue tasted like sand. It was showtime.
Ida joined her daughters in the foyer, greeting Katrina and ushering her inside. “We’re about twenty minutes intoSweet Home Alabama,” she explained.
“I love that movie,” Katrina said softly.
Sophie felt cornered in bed, incapable of running. As Katrina drew closer, she imagined her face twisted with rage; she imagined violent words, accusing Sophie of horrible things.
But the woman who entered the living room was just Katrina Whittaker Coleman—a Nantucket islander of five-foot-five, with dark hair with honey highlights, kind eyes lined with wrinkles, and a smile that opened up her face. Sophie filled her lungs with air. This was the woman she’d feared. It couldn’t be.
“We’ll head to the kitchen,” Ida said, ushering Nellie and Frankie back down the hallway.
It was time for Katrina and Sophie to talk. The intensity of it pressed hard against Sophie’s chest.
“Hi,” Katrina said finally, lacing her arms behind her back.
“Hi.”
Katrina stepped closer, bringing with her the chilly smell of the sea winds that burst against the mansion. Sophie was reminded of being a young girl when Katrina had tended to her during illnesses, bringing her soup in bed. “Stay right where you are,” she’d said. “Your body needs to heal.”
“How are you feeling?” Katrina asked.
Sophie tried to brighten her voice. “I feel okay, all things considered.”
“That’s wonderful.” Katrina tugged at her sweater. “When I heard the news, I felt so…” She trailed off. “Helpless is the word. And awful.”
