Chapter 2: Vacation Nails
After hanging up, Carol let herself get excited in a way she had not felt for years.
Real excitement.
Not the polite kind she showed when someone brought a casserole or invited her to a church luncheon.
This was bright, nervous, almost girlish excitement.
She drove to the discount store and bought a floppy sunhat with a ribbon far too dramatic for beach weather.
She bought soft sandals.
Cheap sunglasses.
Two floral blouses that made her feel bright and alive again.
At home, she laid everything across her bed like treasure.
Her six-year-old granddaughter, Susie, insisted she needed “vacation nails,” so Carol painted them pale pink while Susie approved every coat over video call.
“More shiny, Grandma.”
“How much more shiny can pink be?”
“Vacation shiny.”
Carol laughed until her eyes watered.
Even Matt, her older grandson, briefly appeared during the call.
He smiled, but something about him seemed uneasy.
Grandmothers notice those things.
Even when everyone else pretends there is nothing to see.
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