Wynn in the Willows Read Free

finish telling the story properly.”
    Roxie poured lemonade to the rim, squeezed extra lemon into the glass, and then handed it back.
    Owl slugged down a few inches of lemonade, puckered, and coughed. “That tastes a bit more sour than my last glass…I can hardly speak.”
    “Then I’ll finish the story,” Roxie happily cut in. “Where were you? Oh yes, the island officials felt the name change was better for tourism.”
    “And it certainly worked!” Faith agreed. “The prices of cottages on this island have skyrocketed in the last twenty years. See Jackie? You aren’t the only wealthy woman here.”
    “Girls, girls, be nice,” Roxie scolded. Her face flushed nearly the same color red as her hair. “This is Wynn’s first club meeting with us, and you don’t want her to hear us bickering already, do you?”
    “Of course not.” Jackie and Faith agreed in unison.
    Wynn moved to a chair closer to Owl. “So what became of the Reed mansion? Does anyone live there now?”
    “Oh yes, it’s become an icon of Willow Island! About thirty years ago Joel Reed’s grandson sold it and the new owners made it into a bed and breakfast. The old Reed Mansion is once again a showplace. Wynn, you must visit it. They have a wonderful chef, who is none other than Faith’s brother. Also, the vistas of Lake Michigan from the verandas are gorgeous. That alone is worth the price of a meal, although I must admit Roxie’s view is almost as breathtaking.”
    “My vistas are even more breathtaking,” Jackie interrupted.
    “Instead of a girl’s day out, let’s hold our next Bible club meeting at the Willow Inn and afterwards have brunch,” Sheri suggested.
    “Good idea. I’ll text my brother right now with the reservations.” Faith went for her phone. “I’ll also ask Frank to personally prepare our meal.”
    “I just remembered. Wynn has a birthday coming up. Let’s celebrate it at our next Bible club,” Roxie said. “I’d never forget your special day. We must celebrate it in high style to make up for all the birthdays we weren’t together.”
    “No, no!” The last thing she wanted was birthday recognition. Celebrating would be pure torture. Wynn always spent it in her own way, and it usually involved exploring waterways.
    “What a wonderful idea. I’ll have Frank bake you a cake, too. Is chocolate OK?” Faith began texting.
    “Roxie, please don’t…” Wynn had terrible visions of someone walking in with a chocolate cake while the servers sang to her, holding balloons.
    Maybe there’d even be a red-nosed, freakish clown in the vicinity. Everyone would turn and look at her. Nightmares were made of this. It was hard focusing on the conversation while trying to figure out a way to get out of attending her birthday bash. Suddenly she knew what she’d do. She’d call in sick.
    “Pay attention, Wynn,” Aunt Roxie nudged her. “Owl is asking you a question.”
    “Oh, sorry…what did you say?”
    “I said, do you know that people still dig through the sand trying to uncover poor Joseph Reed?” Owl’s eyes widened for emphasis.
    “You’re kidding.”
    “When you go to the beach Wynn, you’ll see cute police signs that say, ‘No digging for Joseph Reed’,” Sheri said.
    “That’s actually a problem?” Wynn asked.
    “Oh, yes indeed, we’ve lost shoreline because of it. Digging used to be one of the island’s tourist draws, but now it garnishes a hefty fine.”
    “That’s right. Thanks to my nephew’s complaints to the town board,” Owl pointed out. “He is concerned about the damage to the island.”
    “I see him out in his sailboat quite often,” Jackie commented. “Last summer he took Boone, his mother, sister, and me out on it for the day.”
    “Isn’t it a sloop?” Faith asked.
    “No, a schooner.” Owl corrected and continued with her story. “Anna grew to be an old woman on this island and never remarried. Poor thing.”
    “Her two sons went to boarding school on the