Moondance Beach Read Free Page B

basic tasks that once took no more than five mindless minutes of his time. He couldn’t go there. All he could do was push himself harder than he did yesterday. Work longer. Trust that tomorrow would be better than today and that it would be even better the day after that. If he wanted to get back to active duty, this thought process was his only option.
    And returning to duty was the only thing that mattered.
    Just as he set foot back in the bedroom, Duncan heard a knock at the door.
    “Are you decent?”
    The feather wasn’t enough?
    He shook his head as he went to the door. Apparently, it didn’t matter how many times he told his mother that he was injured, not the sick kid he used to be, and he was capable of going downstairs to feed himself. She hadn’t listened. In the week he’d been home, not once had he been allowed to go down to the kitchen and grab a bowl of Cheerios like the nonpatient he was. And if it wasn’t his mother at the door with a tray, it was his sister, Rowan, or Mellie, the family’s longtime housekeeper and cook. Even Clancy’s wife, Evelyn, felt compelled to fib about how she happened to be in the neighborhood during the lunch hour and thought he might enjoy some of her homemade black bean and quinoa salad, which, for the record, he hadn’t.
    Duncan was under siege, and his enemy was a legion of relentlessly fussy females.
    “Good morning!” His mother was a gray-haired, arthritic lady of sixty-nine years who barely came up toDuncan’s shoulders. Mona Flynn had no business carrying a loaded-down serving tray like a waitress at a Shriner’s convention.
    Duncan snatched it from her immediately. “Ma—”
    “Oh, now, hush. The exercise is good for me. Mellie made both blueberry and strawberry, and I know those are your favorites so I brought you one of each, along with three scrambled eggs, bacon, orange juice, fried potatoes . . .”
    While Mona recited the menu, Duncan placed the tray on the small round table by the windows. He pulled out a chair and motioned for her to sit. Though he hadn’t uttered another word of complaint, his mother continued to justify her visit.
    “I just want you to eat right. The next time you go to Boston for your follow-up, I want the surgeon to be shocked at your progress and call the bigwigs in Virginia with the good news.”
    Duncan prepared a cup of coffee for his mother, adding a swift pour of cream and one packet of sugar, the way she liked it. He handed it to her, then immediately poured himself a cup—black.
    “So don’t forget that tonight is your father’s birthday dinner.”
    It was a good thing Duncan had just chomped down on a crisp piece of bacon, because he was sorely tempted to blurt out a question along the lines of:
You two aren’t going to be in the same room together, are you?
    His mother laughed, obviously seeing the unspoken question in her son’s eyes. “Go ahead. Eat. And yes, I’ll be there. Frasier is seventy. We’re having a family celebration. And though your father and I are separated, I’ve been married to the crusty old bastard for forty-fiveyears, so by God I deserve a slice of roast beef and a piece of birthday cake.”
    “Good eggs, Ma.”
    “And while everyone is assembled in one place, we’ll go over the family’s plans for festival week, in particular divvying up jobs at the clambake and going over menu items for the annual barbecue. Since you happen to be home this year, you’ll be expected to help out.”
    “
Really
good eggs.”
    “I’ll tell Mellie. She sprinkled chives on them—did you notice?” Mona took a sip of her coffee and glanced around the suite. “Are you comfortable?”
    “I am.” And he was. Just as he had been comfortable the previous six mornings she’d asked him that question.
    “Dinner starts at seven in the main dining room. They aren’t serving to the public tonight, so it will be just us—Clancy, Evelyn, and little Christina; plus Rowan, Ash, and Serena. Then your