Page 43 of New Day at the Beach House

Claire nodded. “Same here. Although I have to run to the store. Today I’m going to start working on some of the family recipes that Danny gave me.”

“Oh, nice,” Roxie said. “I hope that bakery is a huge success. And not just because my mom owns the shopping center. I really do want you and Danny to make a go of it. He’s a nice guy and you deserve the break.”

Claire couldn’t agree more. “Thanks.”

“Listen,” Roxie said. “I have to go to the store, too. If you want to save some gas, we could go in one car.”

“Okay.” Claire nodded. “I’d like that.”

Claire wasn’t sure if she would or not, but becoming friends had to start somewhere.

Willie blinked and squinted as light filtered through the blinds and into her eyes. She usually loved the sun, but feeling the way she did this morning, it was a horrible thing to wake up to.

With a soft groan that had more to do with her throbbing head than her aging body, she staggered into the bathroom, did what she had to do, then leaned on the sink and took a look at herself in the mirror. She shook her head at the reflection staring back at her. “Maybe you should lay off the rum, Wilhelmina.”

She heard soft voices coming from the other room, and she smelled coffee. And something that might have been pancakes or French toast. Either would have been acceptable, because that was what she needed. Fortification. She tugged on her chenille robe and went to see what her girls were up to.

They were at the breakfast bar, finishing up whatever they’d made for breakfast.

“Was that French toast?” Willie asked.

“Nope,” Roxie said. “Protein pancakes.”

Willie’s lip curled. Those sounded healthy.

Trina looked over. “Mimi!”

Willie winced. “Not so loud, my girl. My head’s not having it.” She went directly to her chair, knowing her girls would take care of her in her time of need. “Rum is the devil’s drink,” she muttered, eyes closed.

Soft laughter answered her.

Willie peeked at them. “I might be old but I’m not deaf.”

“Sorry, Mimi,” Trina whispered. “What can I get you?”

“Coffee, lots of sugar and creamer. Toast with jam. Some regular pancakes would be nice, too. I need carbs. And Aspirin.”

“You’re dehydrated. You need water and an IV,” Roxie said. “But I don’t have the ability to do that for you here. No equipment.”

Willie waved her away. “I don’t need an IV, but I probably am dehydrated.”

“Of course you are. That’s what overindulging does to you.”

Trina came over with a large plastic tumbler of ice water. She set it on the little table next to Willie’s chair. “Here you go. I’ll be right back with the Aspirin. Then I’ll make you some toast.”

“Thank you, honey.” Willie sipped the water. It was nice and cold. Maybe she’d live after all.

“I’ll make the toast,” Roxie said.

Willie exhaled and drank a little more water.

“I can whip you up some more pancakes if you like. We finished what I made.”

“I would like that very much,” Willie said. “Thank you. But none of that protein nonsense.”

“Yes, Ma.”

She kept her eyes closed, listening to her daughter whip up fresh batter.

---