Chapter 4

So she forced a laugh that sounded fake to her own ears and said, “Oh no, Aunt Marlene, it’ll only be me.”

“Well, you drive careful, you hear? It’s a long trip up here. And don’t wait so long between calls next time, honey,” Aunt Marlene told her. “We can’t wait to see you again.”

* * * *

When Tara was younger, the summer seemed to stretch like taffy, the wait between the end of the school year and the day they’d leave for Wildwood an indeterminable torture. Now she felt the same way again, June melting into July and the hours trickling by, pulling her from morning to night until she feared she might snap. The date of Amanda’s wedding was circled in red on her calendar, but it never seemed to get any closer.