“Oh, I am sorry,” Mamaw said sincerely.

“Yes, well . . .” Imogene’s face reflected a troubled heart. She placed her sunglasses on, then just as quickly took them off again. “He’s had the diagnosis for several years. We’ve managed through the early stages well enough. He was forgetful, occasionally would mix up dates. That sort of thing. Then, two years ago, things took a turn. Now he’s confused, he can’t complete tasks, he wanders with a dazed look in his eyes.” She brought her hand to her forehead. “He can’t read,” she said emotionally. “It’s heartbreaking to watch. Jeffrey had a brilliant mind and was an avid reader. Books were his life. Now”—Imogene sighed and dropped her arm—“he forgets what he’s read. Reads the same book over and over without, I fear, comprehending. Even his speech . . .”

Mamaw thought that Imogene was beginning to slur her speech.

Imogene continued, leaning closer. “He repeats things. Or blurts out the strangest comments. Travel is out of the question. He gets lost at Greenfields Park. He could never navigate a strange area. And, he gets far too agitated away from home.” She paused, collecting herself. “Forgive me. I don’t know what’s come over me. Must be the heat. I didn’t mean to go on and on.”

“Don’t apologize,” Marietta said, feeling expansive. “Sometimes we need to let our thoughts out or it feels like we’ll burst.”

“It does, doesn’t it. I haven’t been out much lately. Jeffrey and all.”

“It must be very difficult.”

“It is.” Imogene sniffed. “Jeffrey was always my rock. And now . . .”

“I do understand.” Marietta felt a bit teary herself. “Edward and I had such plans for when he retired. And then he passed. Heart attack.”

“I don’t know which is harder to bear. A quick death or watching one dwindle.”

Marietta took a long drink of her tea, reflecting on that point. “I really don’t know. Do you have help?”

Imogene nodded. “I have a nurse come by daily. And someone stays with him when I’m away, of course. But it’s not the same as when I’m there. I calm him. As much as I’d like to stay, I must return.”

“Of course.” Mamaw patted Imogene’s hand comfortingly.

“I had dreams that Harper would return with me.” Imogene’s smile was wistful. “It would have been comforting to have her with me now. It gets quite lonely rattling around alone in that big house. I’d hoped she’d eventually take over the estate. I wanted her to love Greenfields Park like she does Sea Breeze. But I think we both know the answer to that, don’t we?” Imogene took another long sip of tea.

Marietta followed suit, sipping her tea and reserving comment.

“Selfish of me, I realize that now,” Imogene continued. “She’s her own person. Capable of making her own decisions. For me to force the responsibilities of Greenfields Park on her by virtue of guilt would be to take advantage of her willing nature. I wouldn’t want to do that to her.” Imogene brought her hand to her heart and her voice cracked. “I love Harper far too much to burden her in that way.”

Marietta felt her heart soften toward the woman and refreshed both of their glasses.

“This tea is growing on me with every sip. It has a bit of kick. What exactly is your secret ingredient?”

Marietta smiled mischievously. “Rum.”

“I knew there was something about it I liked.” Imogene laughed, then hiccuped. “Goodness, I’m feeling a bit tipsy.”

“I’m afraid we’re both stewed.”

Imogene looked at Marietta and smiled ruefully. “You know, when I came here, I was prepared to dislike you. I thought you were trying to unload your burden of your house on Harper’s shoulders.”

“Like you.”

Imogene shrugged and wagged a finger, the alcohol clearly taking effect. “I wasn’t going to let you get away with that.” She shrugged again. “I see now that I was mistaken. Harper’s made her choice. She wants to live here.”

“What will become of Greenfields Park?”

“The writing is on the wall. Like you, Marietta, I’ve come to the realization that I can no longer manage it.” Imogene put her face in her palm. “As I must face the decision that I can no longer manage Jeffrey at home.” She dropped her palm. “When I get back, I shall have to find a suitable facility for him.” She was having a difficult time with her sibilant consonants. “And once I do . . .” She paused. “I guess I’ll have to find a place for myself as well. It’s time for me to move on.” She made a sailing motion with her hand.

Marietta laughed and raised her glass. “Here’s to the future.”

The two women clinked glasses.

Marietta asked the question that had been niggling at her since Imogene’s arrival. “What about your daughter? Doesn’t she want the estate?”

“Georgiana? Good God, no. The last thing she wants is to be burdened by the responsibilities of Greenfields Park. Georgiana is all about her career.”

“Isn’t there some uncle or nephew?”

“To do what?”

“To take over. You know. Inherit.”

Imogene tilted her head in thought. “Are you under the impression that Greenfields Park is a family estate? Generations of Jameses and all that?”

“Well, isn’t it?”

Imogene laughed, high and trill. Mamaw couldn’t help but laugh with her.

“No, not atall,” she said with affectation, “Jeffrey and I bought the estate. And now”—Imogene raised her hands—“we’ll sell it.” She leaned forward and waved Marietta closer as one telling a secret. “For a tidy profit, too.” Nodding, Imogene leaned back in her seat. “I’ll be glad to be rid of it. I want to travel.”

“Do you?” Marietta leaned forward. “So do I!”

“Bora-Bora,” they said in unison.

Both women smiled and again clinked their glasses together.

Imogene smiled. “I think we’re going to be great friends.”

“I do, too. We’re a lot alike in some ways. We’re both from another era,” Marietta said pensively.

“So true. These young women don’t want to be saddled with large estates that demand all their time and attention. Besides, who can afford to maintain them?”