Quiet as the Grave. Kathleen O'Brien

I didn’t,” he said. “Just one of my many mistakes.”

      SOMETIMES MIKE BELIEVED that if he hadn’t let Justine talk him into leaving Firefly Glen, everything would have been fine.

      There was magic here. The Sunday after Suzie’s visit and her disturbing news, he went home for Spencer Fairmont’s sixteenth birthday party. And as he watched his son playing touch football on the front lawn of Summer House, he felt his whole body relaxing.

      Though there were about two dozen Glenner children out there, Mike couldn’t take his eyes off Gavin. Look at that smile. He hadn’t smiled like that since his mother’s body had been discovered, almost a month ago.

      Magic wasn’t an exaggeration.

      And it wasn’t just the magic of “home.” Mike knew that, when faced with your first mortgage payment, your first endless, numbing workweek, or your first real personal crisis, it was easy to get all misty about the innocence of youth.

      But Firefly Glen was more than that, and he’d always sensed it, even as a child. Firefly Glen was special. Nestled in a small Adirondack valley, the town was ringed by wooded mountains and spangled with flowers, waterfalls, rivers and birds. It was peopled by gentle eccentrics who argued constantly, and yet stuck together with a loyalty that seemed to belong to another century…or a fairy tale.

      Many of those quirky townsfolk were Mike’s own kin. He was a fourth-generation Glenner, and his parents and grandparents still lived here. His cousin, Natalie Granville Quinn, had once owned Summer House, though the crazy old villa was now open to the public as a historic site—and rented out for parties, like this one.

      “Can you believe how grown-up he is?”

      Mike looked up and saw Natalie standing over him with a cup of punch in each hand. He wasn’t sure which kid she meant. Birthday boy Spencer had come to Firefly Glen as a scared little boy of six. And of course Gavin had left here, ten years ago, as an infant. Three of Natalie’s own four boys were out there, too—the fourth was still in diapers, too young to romp about with the big kids.

      Mike took the punch. Natalie gathered her full yellow skirt under her knees and sat down on the step beside him. “Aren’t you glad someone else is mowing this monstrosity now?”

      He glanced around at the smooth carpet of grass, which was glowing with gold highlights as the afternoon sun began to drop in the west. “You bet I am. Aren’t you glad someone else is in charge of the repairs?”

      Natalie made a swooning sound and leaned her elbows back against the marble gracefully. “Giving this place up was the best decision I ever made.”

      Just then Matthew walked by, their youngest son in his arms, and ruffled her hair. Both males made loud, wet kissing noises. Natalie kissed back, then grinned at Mike. “Make that second-best.”

      Frankly, it was hard to believe that this happily sex-crazed blonde was now a thirty-eight-year-old mother of four. She hardly looked a day older than she had at Mike’s wedding ten years ago, while he felt about a hundred.

      Guess true love really was the fountain of youth, he thought, trying not to be bitter.

      “You make marriage look easy,” he said. He glanced around. Now that twilight had settled in, the band up on the balcony had begun to play slow songs. Couples were swaying together in little love pods all along the front courtyard. Spencer had a new girlfriend, and they looked so sweet, foreheads touching, hands folded between their bodies as if the dance were a prayer. Ward Winters, who was nearly ninety, was in a lip-lock with Madeline Alexander. Griffin and Heather Cahill were nuzzling like newlyweds. It just went on from there.

      He turned back to Natalie. “You all make it look easy.”

      Natalie’s brown eyes were gentle. “It is easy,” she said. “If you’re married to the right person. You can’t judge from your experience, honey. That was…well, it was like getting caught in a freak storm at sea.”

      He noticed she didn’t say Justine’s name. As if there were a conspiracy to shelter him, whenever Mike entered the town limits, the problems of his “real” world dropped away. They had welcomed Justine back while the marriage lasted, and after the divorce no one ever said a word against her, especially not to Gavin. In fact, they rarely mentioned her.

      Sure, occasionally crusty Theo Burke would begin to make some snarky comment, or maybe Ward Winters would start to grouch about Mayor Millner, but someone would always poke them hard, or stomp on their feet, and they’d swallow the words with a gruff apology, and the comforting cocoon would remain unbroken.

      “Hurricane Justine wasn’t completely unexpected,” Mike corrected. “Plenty of people warned me. I just wasn’t listening.”

      Natalie patted his shoulder. “That’s not entirely your fault, either. You just had a really bad case of TB.”

      He gave her a curious look. Natalie had always been eccentric. All Granvilles were. You rarely had any idea what she’d say next. He was actually kind of glad that he was only one-sixth Granville. He had troubles enough.

      “TB?”

      She nodded. “Testosterone Blindness. It afflicts young men from the ages of twelve to about twenty. Its symptoms include bad judgment, night sweats, following some gorgeous girl around with their tongue hanging out, and—”

      “Are you guys talking about Granville?” Parker Tremaine, the Glen’s favorite local lawyer, plopped down on the other side of Mike. “Because, much as I like your grandfather, Mike, I honestly think he’s too old to be having quite so much fun dancing with Suzie Strickland.”

      Natalie made an excited sound and immediately began scanning the dance floor for her irrepressible great-uncle. “That old devil,” she said, chuckling. “I didn’t even know Suzie was coming. Is he really making a pass at her?”

      “I might not go that far, but he certainly is enjoying himself.” Parker raised one eyebrow. “Can’t say I blame him. It’s been a couple of years since I’ve seen her. She looks amazing.”

      Natalie glanced back at Parker irritably. “But of course she looks amazing, dummy. Didn’t you know she always was a beauty under all that goop?”

      “No,” he said flatly. “I didn’t. I knew she was cuter than she wanted to let on, and of course she was always a work in progress. But this—”

      “There they are! Hmm…oh, dear. This may be the beginnings of a Granville moment.” Natalie scrambled to her feet, dusting off her yellow skirt. “I’d better go throw some cold water over him. Later, boys. Be good.”

      Mike had located his grandfather and Suzie, too. He watched her smiling up into the old man’s face, accepting his ridiculous flirtation with sardonic good humor. She was wearing red jeans and a halter top that had a surprisingly sexy updated-Grecian look, with ribbons crisscrossing her breasts, then falling with a seductive flare around her hips.

      She still looked different from everyone else, but she didn’t look wrong anymore. She just looked special.

      As the music swelled, Granville dipped her, in old-style ballroom elegance. He bent over her arched body, nearly putting his nose in her cleavage. Mike felt annoyance squeeze his gut briefly…Granddad, you dirty old bastard.

      But when Suzie straightened up her eyes were sparkling with laughter, and her cheeks were almost as red as her clothes. She put her hand on Granville’s chest and pushed, removing him to a respectable distance. But she didn’t look mad. She looked…

      Amazing might be an understatement.

      Parker was watching, too. He looked over at Mike. “Did you know? Have you seen her lately?”

      Mike nodded. “Actually, I saw her a few days ago, for the first time since I—left town. I was shocked. I’m like you. I knew she had something, but at the same time I didn’t know…this.”

      Parker smiled.