Finding Forgiveness: A Bluebird Bay Novel

by Denise Grover Swank

  “We have the cake hiding in the car, and I wanted to have the waitress put the candles on and all that. We’ll be back in a few.”

  “Speaking of pictures,” Cee-cee said from her left, interrupting her thoughts. “Can I steal you for a second to take a few shots of you out on the deck? We should really start chronicling that baby bump. What do you say?”

  “Sure,” Sasha said, turning to Gabe. “I’ll be right back, okay? Your mother wants to take some pictures with me outside.”

  He nodded, his head darting in for a quick peck before he pulled his arm away.

  Sasha stood and followed her mother-in-law toward the door that led outside. The heady smell of the ocean overtook the scents of freshly baked garlic bread and basil as they swung the door open. She closed her eyes and took in the sound of the ocean lapping beneath them, audible despite the chatter in the restaurant, and the breeze sent her skirt fluttering.

  “It’s a beautiful evening,” Cee-cee remarked as they stepped outside, gesturing across the ocean.

  Sasha shook her head in awe as she took in the view. The crimson and purple splash of twilight made the ocean seem even more vast. It was unseasonably warm and, despite the breeze, there was no need for any jacket over Sasha’s long-sleeved shirt. She turned sideways and cupped her rounded belly.

  “Ready?”

  Cee-cee snapped several photos, having Sasha pose in several different ways and moving twice to change lighting before she was satisfied.

  “I’m sure we have a few good ones by now,” she said, stuffing her phone back into her purse.

  She looked back up, taking a deep breath as she met Sasha’s eyes. “Thank you for making my son so happy. I love you, Sash.”

  “I love you, too, Cee-cee,” she said, pulling her into a hug. “And I feel honored to be a part of a family like yours.”

  “Then maybe you should start calling me Mom,” Cee-cee said, smiling as they parted from the hug. “You’re my bonus daughter now, after all.”

  Sasha nodded, feeling her lip quiver a bit. Damn hormones, she thought, rubbing at her eyes. It had been twenty years since she’d called anyone that, but now, with Cee-cee, it felt right.

  “Okay, Mom.”

  Cee-cee beamed at her for a moment and then turned as the door slid open.

  “My two favorite ladies,” Gabe called from behind them, the familiar sensation of his arm around her waist coming a moment later.

  “I should probably head back inside now,” Cee-cee said. “Anna is going to come with the cake soon and I’ve got to ensure that the waitstaff is prepared to embarrass Steph with a birthday song.”

  “We’ll be back in just a second,” Gabe said with a chuckle. “I wouldn’t want to miss that.”

  Cee-cee made her way back inside, leaving Gabe and Sasha alone on the deck. For a moment, they stood and watched the waves. Then, he turned and whisked her into his arms.

  “When the baby is born, I want to do it again,” he murmured into her hair.

  “What’s that?” she asked, puzzled. “Make another baby?”

  “No. Well…maybe, but that’s not what I was thinking. I want to renew our vows. No party, no fanfare. Just the two of us. I started thinking the past week or so that, through all of our struggle, I was thinking about how I felt. I hadn’t even considered that your fears and insecurities had been weighing on you for weeks. Even our wedding day was full of guilt and worry. So I want to do it again. With all our cards on the table, and you knowing that I do. I did. And I’d do it again, a thousand times.” He pulled back to gaze down at her. “So what do you say, Mrs. Burrows? Will you marry me…again?”

  She nodded, joyous laughter bubbling past the lump in her throat.

  “Just try and stop me.”

  25

  Nikki

  Nikki took a glance around the little bungalow one last time and nodded. Looked like she’d packed everything.

  Luckily, it had only taken a couple of hours. The place had come furnished, so it was just a matter of weeding through the junk she’d managed to collect over the past couple months, and then the clothes and things she’d brought when she’d come.

  A wave of sadness rolled through her and she pushed out a breath.

  “You did what you came to do. Now, it’s out of your hands,” she muttered.

  It was a mantra she’d repeated a thousand times over the past month as she waited and hoped she’d hear from Anna.

  But she’d put off the inevitable long enough. It was time to give up and head home.

  She dragged the last of her bags to the door and then set the keys on the countertop of the kitchenette.

  It wasn’t all bad, she mused, trying not to let the sadness drag her under. She’d met Eva, who’d become like an honorary Auntie to her. And Bluebird Bay was a beautiful little town. She’d gotten to meet some of Anna’s family, which had been great, despite the circumstances.

  There was no denying, though, it felt like her heart was a puzzle, and there was still a piece missing. Maybe now, more than ever. She’d been so close…

  A sharp rap at the door startled her from her thoughts and she turned and padded toward it. “Coming!”

  Eva knew she was leaving today. In fact, she was a half hour behind schedule. Who could possibly be stopping by right now? As she reached for the knob, her stomach did a flip.

  There was no way…could it be—

  She yanked the door open, breathless, to find her landlady standing there with a small bouquet of flowers.

  “Oh, good, I didn’t miss you!” Flora Velasquez said with a wide smile.

  “Oh…hi, Flora,” Nikki croaked, trying to recover from the gut punch she’d stupidly just subjected herself to.

  Hope is a dangerous thing, she reminded herself bitterly.

  “Hope I’m not bothering you. I just wanted to drop off a little token of appreciation. You were such a lovely tenant. Please, if you ever come back this way, don’t hesitate to call. And if anyone you know is visiting the area, give them my card, won’t you?”

  “That’s really nice of you. Thanks so much.”

  “Think nothing of it.” The other woman handed her the bouquet and a business card, then took a step back. “Anyway, you go ahead and pack, I’ll get out of your way. Have a safe trip back to Cherry Blossom Point!” Flora chirped before heading back down the walkway.

  For a long moment, Nikki stood in the doorway. Until Flora had pulled away in her car. Until her own heart stopped pounding with adrenaline.

  Well, that had been a parting blow she could’ve done without.

  She closed the door and then bent low to take a sniff of the flowers. Lilacs and daisies. Two of her favorites. She laid them on the countertop and began fishing through her packed bags. She could at least wrap the stems in wet paper towels so they would survive the trip back home without wilting any.

  She was just finishing the process when another knock came.

  “One second,” she called as she padded back to the door. “Did you forget something, Fl--”

  The words died on her lips as she stared into a pair of hazel eyes exactly like her own. Blood roared in her ears and she swayed on her feet, sure her legs would give out at any second.

  “Wh-what are you doing here?”

  “Funny,” Anna Sullivan replied. “I came here to ask you the same question.”

  “Hello, Nikki. I’m Anna.”

  Can Anna find it in her heart to allow Nikki in? Will Maryanne Brown ever find love? And is Nate Burrows up to no good or has he truly changed for the better? Finding Acceptance is coming March 28thth, 2021!

  Want more family-oriented women's fiction, but maybe with a little magic? Try Writing Wrongs, out now and FREE in KU!

  Chapter One

  Two hours, thirteen minutes, and twelve seconds.

  That's how much time I had left to play saleswoman at this god-awful flea market I'd somehow allowed my grandmother to talk me into.

  "It'll be fun," she'd said. />
  "It'll be easy," she'd said.

  "If you don't do it, you can move your ungrateful ass out of my house and find someone else’s basement to stay in," she'd said.

  Mee-maw really knew how to sweet-talk a girl. And, with the money from my house still tied up in escrow for another month or so, I didn’t have a whole lot of options.

  "Oh my gah, is that Cricket Hawthorne?"

  I hadn't heard the voice in a good twenty-five years, but I recognized it instantly and cringed.

  Marilee—"not Mary-Lee...it’s Mare-uh-lee…like, gently down the stream!" —Rasmusson and I had gone to the same school from kindergarten to senior year, and I'd never spent more than three minutes alone with her that whole time, which I considered a personal accomplishment.

  She wasn't a bad person. Actually, now that I thought about it, I was pretty sure I was the bad person for not being more open to her attempts to establish a friendship. She'd been nothing but kind to me and pretty much everyone else in Rocky Knoll for every one of her forty-eight years on this earth. But it was that really aggressive kind of nice…An in-your-face nice that put a body on edge. She was like a mascot without a costume. A real life Snow White. And I was more of an Ursula type, myself.

  In a nutshell?

  Not a Marilee fan.

  "I heard you were back in town and I could barely believe it! It's been, what? Five years since you came back home and brought that handsome hubby of yours with you?" she asked as she leaned over the table filled with crocheted beer koozies and needlepoint pillows to drag me out of my folding chair and into a non-consensual hug. The scent of sugar cookies instantly filled my nostrils, and my stomach growled.

  "Er, hi, Marilee. Yeah, it's been a while. How are you?" I asked with a smile as I pulled away, settling back into a chair that was clearly meant for a butt smaller than mine.

  "Oh. My. Gah! How cute is that?" she squealed, already turning her attention to the handmade items piled between us. "Did your Mee-maw make all these?” she demanded as she fingered the edge of a pot-holder embroidered with the words ‘Hot Stuff’. “She's so talented. I bet she could be the next Ree Drummond. You know Ree Drummond? The Pioneer Woman?" She waved a hand in front of her periwinkle blue eyes that had gone suspiciously shiny. "She's my idol. Like, for real. I love her so, so much. Do you love her?"

  I side-eyed the clock on the putty-colored wall of our local community center.

  Two hours, twelve minutes, and fifty-nine seconds. Fourteen seconds after the last time I’d checked. Apparently “they” were right. Time really flew when you were having fun.

  "Yep," I said with a distracted nod, trying to maintain eye contact while frantically scoping out the surrounding area in my peripheral vision. My cousin Zoe was in front of a mirror a few tables down with no less than twelve hand-crafted necklaces looped around her throat as she tried to make her selection. “She's a very talented lady.”

  I strained, mentally sending Zoe hard-core S.O.S. vibes, but she was too busy admiring herself to pick up what I was putting down and I had to stop when my eye started to twitch.

  Marilee cocked her head and frowned. "Who’s talented…You mean The Pioneer Woman or your Mee-maw?"

  "Yes. Uhm, both.”

  She let out a tinkling, musical laugh and I half expected a pair of bluebirds to come perch on her sharp little shoulders.

  "You always had the best sense of humor. Did you ever think of becoming a comedian? Heck, you could be the next Ellen. Do you know Ellen? The," she looked around before leaning in with a covert hand cupped around her mouth and whispering, "lesbian talk show host? You could be like her. Only not a lesbian. Unless you are and that's why you got divorced. Which is fine, too. God loves all creatures, big, small, and...different."

  I opened my mouth to reply, but was saved by a low, hacking cough.

  "Sell anything yet?"

  I jerked my head to the right and nearly melted to the floor in relief as I locked eyes with my Mee-maw. People often imagine grandmothers as the Mrs. Claus type. Or that Granny with her pet Tweetie Bird from those old Saturday morning cartoons. White hair in a bun, ever-present apron as she bustled around the kitchen of a cozy house that always smelled like a comforting mix of cinnamon and Ben-gay.

  Yeah, so my Mee-maw was the exact opposite of that.

  She did have white hair, only she'd balked at putting it up, refused to get the requisite "old lady" short cut, couldn't be fussed to style it, and hated having it in her face. Hence the no-nonsense mullet that she'd rocked since I was a kid. Business in the front. Business casual in the back.

  She was also tough as nails and not to be trifled with.

  “Hi there, Dorothea! I was just telling Cricket, here, how much I enjoyed your handicrafts and doodads,” Marilee cooed.

  Mee-maw nodded, a grin tipping her lips as she took Marilee’s dainty hand in her own grisled paw. “I appreciate that very much, kiddo. Which ones have you bought so far?”

  Marilee blinked, her cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink.

  “Oh, I-I was still trying to decide which colors to go with,” she mumbled, leaning in to peer at the beer koozies, brows narrowed in concentration. “I’ll take the blue and yellow, please,” she said with a smile as Mee-maw released her hand.

  “Excellent choice. And then how many pot holders did you need, two, or four?” Mee-maw asked, raising a slate gray brow in question.

  “Um, two…f-four,” she corrected at the narrowing of my grandmother’s eyes. “Yes. Four would be good,” she added with a nod. “They’ll make amazing Christmas gifts.”

  “Damn right,” Mee-maw chirped, turning her attention back on me and scratching at her square chin as she glanced around the room. “Still a lot of people here, but unless you put some muscle into it, we’re going to have to schlep all this crap home, so can you show a little enthusiasm? And go ahead and ring up Marilee, here, so she can be on her way.”

  “Well, there’s nothing to ring her up on,” I muttered, “But yeah, sure. Enthusiasm. Roger that.”

  She scowled at me before charging off toward a circle of women chatting in the corner of the room, probably to browbeat them into coming over.

  “That will be nine dollars, please,” I said to Marilee with a tight smile.

  She dug a hand into her purse and pulled out a tenner, waiting patiently for her change.

  “Your grandmother sure is a card, isn’t she?”

  “That’s one way to put it,” I agreed as I fished four quarters from the meager cashbox and handed them to her, already distracted.

  There were over fifty vendors at this shindig, all hawking some version of the same three things: Handicrafts, antiques, or knick-knacks, with most focused on the former. If I wanted to keep Mee-maw’s complaints to a minimum and not have to make fifteen trips to the car with the boxes we’d brought here, I was going to have to step up my game some.

  “Thanks a lot, Cricket,” Marilee said as she took her bag and pocketed her change. “And please, let me know if you want to grab a cup of tea one day and just catch up. I’d love to hear what you’ve been up to these past few years!”

  Visions of me wandering aimlessly through my old house in dirty sweatpants wondering where it all went wrong, while eating peanut butter directly from the jar because making a sandwich seemed too hard, ran through my mind and I cleared my throat.

  “Sounds like fun. I’ll be in touch.”

  She wiggled her fingers at me and pranced off as I turned my attention to the competition. Thinking about the excruciatingly slow death of my marriage and the depressing aftermath wasn’t going to sell potholders, so I forced myself to focus, eyeing the other tables.

  What did we have that they didn’t?

  “You like?” Zoe blurted as she rushed up from behind me.

  I turned to find my cousin standing there sporting a crimson hat the size of a spaceship, and blinked.

  “Um, yes? For when, though? Are you going to the Kentucky Derby or?”

&n
bsp; “No. For whenever.” She did a twirl and then frowned. “Fine. You’re not a hat person, so you don’t get it. How’s it going here?”

  “It’s going.”

  An older gentleman nodded in greeting as he strolled past and Zoe reflexively swept her hair aside to bare one shoulder.

  “Well hello, handsome,” she murmured, fluttering her lashes.

  Zoe took flirting to a whole new level. Sure, she still used the tried and true methods, but she’d managed to improve on every single one. She was an innovator. The Bill Gates of flirting. It was a weapon that served her well in her own business as a bakery owner, but also in life. What Zoe wanted, Zoe got, most of the time.

  The man had slowed to a stop, smile widening. “Well hello there, pretty lady. What have you got for sale, there?”

  Zoe was forty-six and he had to be pushing seventy, but my cousin’s charms knew no such boundaries, and she preened.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she asked with a wink. She let that hang there for a second before bursting into a chuckle and then looping her arm through his. “I kid. Come, look. We’ve got all sorts of amazing, handmade items our dear granny knitted with her own two hands.”

  My spirits sang as I locked eyes with her and mouthed, “Be back in a bit,” with an exaggerated gesture toward the table and then cash box.

  She inclined her head almost imperceptibly to let me know she had things under control, and I barely refrained from sprinting away in glee. Just being out of that seat for a while felt like heaven. With a snack and a nice, hot, cuppa joe under my belt, I’d be refreshed and ready to sell sell sell.

  “It’s the home stretch. You can do this,” I murmured under my breath.

  I had my sights set on a refreshments table a few down from ours that was practically bowing under the weight of spread laid upon it. One might think because I worked part-time in my cousin’s bakery, I’d be sick of sweets.

  One would be wrong.