Adrienne used her forearm to push back the hair that had escaped. Pieces were matted to her wet brow where even more sweat had accumulated in her struggle. She set this plank on the floor by the first one and reached into the hole.
The book was sheathed in a light cotton material that could once have been a piece of a bedsheet or part of an old dress. The cotton, though threadbare and decomposing, had kept the book safe for a very long time. Dust rose as she unwrapped it and examined the front cover.
It held no lock and looked to be an inexpensive journal. Brittle pages clicked as she pulled the book open to examine its inside cover. It was stiff from years of disuse, but the words were legible and clear. The front cover sported the name she had hoped she would find.
Adrienne hobbled from the room and down the stairs. Maybe she would get all her questions answered now. Maybe this would help her understand about Gracie and her bitter betrayal. And maybe Adrienne could get to know Sara from these pages.
Once at the table, Adrienne flipped the book open and hoped to find page after page of Sara’s thoughts.
Writing on page one. Two. Adrienne frowned, her fingers gliding through more pages, empty pages. Her eyes scanned as if her intensity could will words and thoughts into the book. Writing on page three. Her nose tickled with so much dust and she wriggled it, not wanting to sneeze.
Disappointment worked its way through her system. Only a few pages at the front of the book had been written on. At least those might answer some questions, she assured herself. But after thirty minutes of reading the same four entries over and over, Adrienne was more confused than ever.
Dear Diary,
I haven’t had a diary before, so I’m probably not going to be very good at this. I’m not planning on keeping this going for very long, but I have to have someone to talk to about what I’ve done.
I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, but I know it’s going to. Gracie is gone, and Momma is making me move back to North Carolina. I don’t want to go. This is where my friends are. I guess I’m probably old enough to tell her no and that I’m staying here, but I won’t do that. Besides, when William comes I certainly can’t be here. I couldn’t bear to look at his face or see his disappointment in me.
I have betrayed everyone I love and don’t know how to live with the guilt of that. I can’t write any more right now.
Sara
Adrienne pressed her hands against her head. Sara had rambled on for a couple of pages about how she’d betrayed everyone and hated herself for it. The last entry was equally chilling, though it seemed to give the young girl some thin thread of relief.
Dear Diary,
We are leaving today and I am putting these words into my hiding place in the closet. I went and talked to Pastor Luke yesterday. I’m not going to dwell on what I’ve done anymore. I’m going to close this diary, put it away, and leave town with Momma. I guess I’m all she has now.
I miss Gracie. No matter how she treated William, I still love her. I wish she could come back. William is coming home from the war in the next few days. He’ll be here, but we’ll be gone. It’s better. It’s best that I never see him again.
Sara Chandler
Disappointed, Adrienne walked the inside perimeter of the house, shutting off lights and readying for bed. She changed into a T-shirt and sweats—careful not to pull the bandage from her heel. Her head nuzzled into the pillow, but she knew there would be no restful sleep for her tonight. She tossed and turned, haunted by an inconclusive confession from a girl who couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen. Sara was hiding something.
And Adrienne couldn’t ignore the strong tug to find out what.
Leo smiled when Adrienne entered the diner, his pot of coffee and a clean cup—albeit stained on the rim—dangling on his crooked finger. He stopped at the table, wiggled those sparse but unruly brows, and poured the cup without asking.
She questioned him with a look.
“Real man’s cup of coffee.” The cup clinked against the Formica countertop.
“Perhaps you haven’t noticed, but I’m not a man at all.” Adrienne was growing ever more comfortable with her circle of eighty-year-old friends. And though that fact might alarm most twenty-somethings, she rather liked it.
Leo urged her onward with the dip of his chin and a wink of his eye. “If you’ve come to pump me for more information, you’re gonna have to drink.”
“Maybe I just came for the best breakfast in town.” She sat back in the booth and crossed her arms over her chest. A couple with three noisy kids, covered with sand from the knees down, passed her table and chose a corner booth.
Leo scrubbed at a weathered cheek. “Nah, I know about you city slickers. Y’all think yogurt and fruit is a proper breakfast. Too busy for a real meal, grabbing a bagel and some awful thing you like to call a shmear.”
Adrienne laughed.
He threw his hands up. “What self-respecting bread product has a hole through the middle of it?”
“What about donuts?” Leo seemed a bit . . . younger today. Almost as if he wanted to see her again. The thought made her smile inwardly. Maybe he just enjoyed the banter. She could hold her own with most quick-witted people. She certainly enjoyed it. Especially now that she didn’t have to wonder what Eric thought of her conversations. It felt free. She could joke, tease, chit-chat, even flirt without ever having to wonder if she’d be admonished for it later. Life was good.
“I said self-respecting bread product.”
Adrienne crossed her legs. “Okay, you got me. I’m here for information. What can you tell me about Sara?”
Leo raised his brows again and stared at the coffee mug but didn’t say a word.
Adrienne followed his gaze to the thick liquid in front of her. Was this really the price for a little history? She mustered her strength and lifted the death-brew to her mouth slowly. After one last plea with her eyes—and Leo only rocking back on his heels—she tipped the mug the way one might tip a glass laced with poison.
Leo smirked.
She was quickly invaded by two sensations. First, there was the stinging of heavily acidic fluid sitting on her tongue. Then the pungent aftertaste that remained after swallowing. “Mmm,” she forced out, unconvincingly. Her eyes watered.
Leo threw his head back and laughed. “Greenhorn. I guess you’ve earned a question or two.” But he rose from the table and brought back a delicate silver container of milk so cold the shiny creamer had frosted. He poured the milk into the coffee and nudged her to give it another try.
It couldn’t possibly help that much, or so her eyes begged, but he was relentless. She drew a long breath and obediently took another sip. It was surprisingly better, or maybe she’d just dulled her taste buds with the first swallow.
“So now you want to know about Sara? Did you find William?”
“Yes, I had dinner with him and his grandson a couple weeks ago.”
“Will! I sure owe him a lot.”
“You owe a lot to William?” Confusion and bad coffee clouded her mind.
“No, to Will. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t still have this place. I got pretty sick a few years back, and the bank was breathing down my neck about my business loan. Will worked with me, gave me extra time, kept me from losing it. I’m not sure he didn’t even kick in on a few payments; I still don’t know how I paid it off so quickly.” He gave her a few moments to absorb this before continuing. “But you’re not here to talk about that.”
Who did I meet? she wondered. This didn’t sound like the same Will. He was all about business and the bottom line, not pitching in on loans for old, ailing men. At the same time, there were glimpses of sweetness in him. Maybe she’d misjudged him or just judged him too quickly. Then again, there was always a wariness and suspicion behind his deep green eyes that she couldn’t discount.
“Sara. She was a sweetheart. You could search the world and not find a sweeter girl. But, oh could she find trouble.” He leaned his elbow on the
table. “She didn’t look for trouble, mind you, just always seemed to end up in the middle of it. Sara had a soft spot for animals. When she’d find a stray, she’d knock on every door in town, trying to find it a good home. Someone dumped a litter of puppies once, and she found them before school, took ’em home and barricaded them in. After all, how much damage could a litter of puppies do to a kitchen in just a few hours?”
“Oh, no.” Adrienne smiled.
“Her momma was gone for the day, due back at six that evening. Oh, those pups wreaked havoc on that room. It took six of us to clean up the mess. Needless to say, she refrained from bringing any more strays home.”
“Leo,” Adrienne said. “Do you think Sara blamed herself for Gracie’s death?”
He took a thoughtful moment, then shook his head. “No, why?”
“She left a diary that just had a few pages in it. She talked like she’d done something awful.” Adrienne’s eyes narrowed to slits. “But I don’t think she really did.”
He gauged her for a long moment and seemed to disappear in the past, eyes on her, but mind far away. “Did she do something wrong?” Adrienne asked.
He nodded. “Yes.”
Adrienne’s heart quickened.
“But in doing that she also did something very, very right.”
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. Blood pounded in Adrienne’s ears. “You know her secret.”
He nodded, tapping his thumb against the table. “It took me a long time to figure out. And once I did, it was too late. She was gone, and William had moved on.”
“It involves William?” she asked. “She mentions that William would never forgive her.”
“Before Sara left town to go back to North Carolina, she stopped by to see me. I’d come home about six months before William was scheduled to. She wouldn’t give me any details, but she asked me to look out for him.” A gentle smile touched his face, and Adrienne could see a tenderness he usually kept hidden.
Adrienne realized she wasn’t breathing when black spots materialized before her eyes.
He waited, as if time would fill in the blanks.
Pure intrigue pulled Adrienne forward until she leaned on the table, Leo filling her vision. “What are you trying to say, Leo? Sara asked you to watch out for him?”
“I’ve never seen a woman more in love.”
Adrienne sucked in a breath. “Sara was in love with William. But Sara was just a kid when William left.”
He brushed a hand through the air. “We were all kids. Sara was fourteen, only three years younger than William. Five years younger than me. But her skinny, gawky frame that fourteen-year-olds so often have made her seem like more of a kid than a teenager. She had just turned seventeen when William was scheduled to come home.” He eyed her closely. “And that’s old enough to know if you’re truly in love.”
“Sara was in love with her sister’s boyfriend,” Adrienne whispered, her weight dropped against the vinyl booth cushion, her hands clasped in her lap. “What a secret for her to have to carry.”
“I suspect it was a heavy load. More so after Gracie died.”
It was a moment before Adrienne noticed the change in Leo’s demeanor. He wrung his hands, his gaze drifting over different parts of the table. “You see, I didn’t know. I didn’t know right away. After she left town, I figured it out. But it was too late. I’d gone and introduced William to Betty.”
Adrienne’s heart sank for Leo, for William, for Sara.
“I felt bad for William. Losing Grace. Sara being gone. His injury . . . ”
The wall clock had a flip screen on it that advertised local businesses. From where they sat, they could hear the gentle hum of the neon illuminating it. Adrienne waited for Leo to continue, having to tear her gaze from his watery gray eyes gone dark with shame.
“William got home, and I introduced him to Betty. She was sweet and kind and had lost a brother in the war. After William and Betty became serious, I realized what Sara was hiding.” He pursed his lips together. “But it was too late. William had fallen in love with Betty.”
Adrienne realized how difficult this admission was for Leo. She could tell he felt somehow responsible.
He rubbed one hand with the other. “I never told him. I never did. I just didn’t know how.” His eyes found hers and begged for long-sought forgiveness that she couldn’t give because he hadn’t wronged her. He hadn’t wronged anyone, but it seemed he’d carried the weight of this his whole life, and it had taken too much of a toll. His lips pressed into a straight line, and she knew she needed to say something.
Adrienne reached across the table and placed a hand on Leo’s arm. “You were a good friend. You did the right thing, Leo.” Words. Only words. A sick feeling unfurled in her stomach. She had dredged up enough about the past. It was here that her journey must end. Though she loved hearing about the life William and Leo had led, there was something disturbing about discussing it with them. It was their past. It was the pain and the struggle they had fought through to make it to where they now stood. Each time she spoke with either of them, though their words were in the past tense, their eyes and hearts were reliving each moment.
So her journey was over. She was completely convinced this was the last discussion about it. She was convinced, that is, until Leo spoke again.
His words were like the softest brush of wind and delivered after she had thanked him for his time and stood up from the table to leave. A Prada bag was slung carelessly over her shoulder, and for an instant she wasn’t sure that he’d said anything at all. Had it not been for the intensity in his gaze, she might have turned and walked right out of the restaurant.
Then, he repeated the words: “It’s not too late. Sara never married.”
The pounding began in her heart and worked its way out from her core, causing her entire body to zing with warning and intrigue. “What do you mean?”
“It’s not too late for William to know the truth.”
The vinyl cushion sighed as she dropped back onto it, her weight slumped against the back of the seat. A silver buckle on her purse clanged against the table. She had been so close to escape. A few more steps and she could have left the mysteries and the madness behind her. She shook her head. “I don’t know.” Lips pressed tightly together, she contemplated what this could mean to William, who had made peace with the ghosts from his past.
But Leo seemed just as certain as she was uncertain.
“Leo, all these years later. I mean, Sara left. If she was seventeen, she was old enough to stay here at least long enough to see him. She chose to go. I think the news would only hurt William.”
He gazed at her through gray and piercing eyes. “Not if Sara got the chance to explain.”
What are you doing, Pops?” Will reached into the box his grandfather had filled with vegetables. He plucked a tomato and brought it to his mouth. But Pops moved with lightning speed and snagged it from Will.
“Stay out of this box.” Pops turned to face him, to point a finger in Will’s face, and that’s when he saw the spark. There’d been a spark in Pops’s eyes since Adrienne Carter showed up, disrupting their crab shells and their life. “We’ve got more than we can possibly eat, so I am sending these with Adrienne. She loves to cook, you know?”
“She’s coming by this morning?” Uh, had there been a hint of excitement in his tone? Yeah, the way Pops was grinning at him, there must have been. He honestly didn’t know why he cared at all. She had returned his grandfather’s letters, but Pops kept thinking of excuses for her to drop by. First, it was the book about plumbing, then borrowing some tool he’d dug out of the garage. Now she was stopping by for fresh vegetables. His vegetables. Will’s mouth watered. That tomato was perfect. This was madness.
She obviously liked Pops, since he’d yet to hear her turn down an invite, but Will couldn’t help notice that she always came while he was at work, which meant she wanted nothing to do with him. Will was fine with that. But she was coming today. It was Saturday.
She had to know he’d be there. Maybe she’d planned it that way.
He imagined her breezing in, interrupting his morning, smelling like wildflowers and maybe tossing some food on the kitchen floor. The thought brought him back to the night they’d spent sitting at the table and laughing with Pops. He caught himself smiling in his reflection in the window, so he turned it into a scowl. She wouldn’t get to him. Not today. He headed out back to the pier. He just wouldn’t be here. He’d stay outside. Problem solved. As he left, he could hear Pops mumbling about Adrienne bringing the bait for their fishing trip. Will cast his eyes toward heaven.
As he headed for the boat, he stopped and admired the hard work he’d put in yesterday. The thirty-two-foot cuddy cabin gleamed in the Florida sun. He’d spent the evening before, brush in hand, scrubbing every inch of her, wiping down the teak wood, cleaning the windows, and polishing the chrome. She looked better than a brand new boat. And no one, not even a nosy, too pretty brunette was going to ruin his day out on the water.
“Now these are delicious in a spinach salad. Here’s kale, mustard greens, collards.” Pops’s hands meandered through the box. “’Course, I grew up calling it a wilted lettuce salad, but Will says that sounds terrible. You know how to make one?”
“Yes,” Adrienne answered. But her mind was elsewhere. She’d spotted Will in the backyard through the kitchen window and had to fight the urge to go outside and watch him. Bare to the waist, with the Florida sun gleaming off his muscles and looking so at ease.
“I always use a little bacon grease for the base of the dressing, but Will tells me that’s bad for my cholesterol.”
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