Beau nods meekly. “Jane will be very grateful to you.”
“As she should be.” I head toward Grams. My heartbeat is still normalizing from that whole trash can encounter, but it’s settled by the time I help her into the golf cart, where Deedee is waiting.
I glance at Grams as we get on the road. “You okay?”
She grunts.
“She saw Rick Palmer,” Deedee explains. “Always puts her in a mood.”
“You shouldn’t let him get to you, Grams,” I say. “It gives him all the power.” A bit hypocritical coming from the woman whose brain powers off when she’s around Beau, but it’s true.
“You expect me to be nice to him?” Grams says. “Cozy on up to him like you have with Officer Palmer? Been there, done that.”
I frown. “What?” She’s not making sense. She’s probably tired from all that dancing.
Grams doesn’t say anything, though, so I look to Deedee—my trusted confidant.
“Virginia and Rick Palmer had a little…connection…a few years ago,” she explains.
My head whips toward Grams, and I accidentally jerk the wheel in the process. I hurry to correct the error.
“A few years ago?” Grams scoffs. “Your age is showing, Deedee. More than fifty years ago! When I was still an idiot.” Her eyes narrow as she stares ahead at nothing in particular. “He lured me right in with those pretty eyes and those juicy lips.”
My eyes get big.
“And then he dropped me like a hot potato.”
“Virginia didn’t know he already had someone,” Deedee explains.
Grams shakes her head. “And when I told her before the wedding that he’d been two-timing us both, she didn’t care! Guess his money was consolation enough for her.”
I don’t even know what to say. My head is reeling. I mean, I knew the Palmers and Sawyers had history, but I thought it had started with neighbor disputes and then grown into the politics and the pool stuff. I had no clue Grams had dated Rick Palmer—or that he’d cheated on her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask. It’s unlike Grams to withhold information that could strengthen anyone’s dislike of the Palmers.
“You think I like broadcasting that I was made a fool of by that man? Besides, what difference does it make? It’s a drop in the bucket.”
I’d say it’s more like a two-gallon jug’s worth, but okay.
We get to Seaside Oasis, and I help Grams with her walker, then to her room, where she and Deedee take seats on the deck to watch the upcoming fireworks show.
“We’re fine,” Grams says. “You can go back, Gigi.”
I hesitate. With this new information in my head, I’m feeling a little off-kilter. “Maybe I’ll stay.”
“Go help Jane,” she says. “I like that girl, and she’s been running around all day like a chicken with its head cut off. Just stay away from the Palmer pig.”
She and Deedee start chatting about the gossip they acquired at the dance, and I leave them to it. I’m not sure what to do with what Grams said. It’s not like I found out anything about Beau. This is his grandpa we’re talking about, and it’s been half a century. Rick’s probably not even the same person at this point. Maybe he really regrets what he did to Grams. And maybe his side of the story would be different if I asked him about it. Who knows?
But I can’t help feeling just a bit unsettled by it. I know how similar Grams and I are, despite having a generation between us. What if Beau is a lot likehisgrandpa and doesn’t mind stringing women along? If nothing fazes him, why wouldthat?
When I get to the intersection of the softball field and the beach where the fireworks are being set off, they’ve already started, peppering the night sky with sprays of red, white, and blue. Almost everyone is seated now, whether at tables or on beach blankets and towels. I force my eyes to search for Jane instead of Beau.
My eyes settle for a moment on Tristan Palmer and Capri Collins. The two of them are looking mighty close. Does Deedee know what her granddaughter is up to? I’m actually not sure if she’d even care. I suspect she doesn’t care as much about the Palmer/Sawyer drama as she pretends to. She’s just being a good friend to Grams.
I can’t find Jane anywhere, but I do find Mayor Barnes.
“Beau had to go handle an issue with those guests staying next door to you,” he says, gathering up some flyers. “They were lighting fireworks on the beach. While drinking.”
