“But it should be the last time I have to say it when it comes to my children.” Jenn’s lips narrowed. “You know how I feel about Julia.” Charlotte was going to say something, but Jenn held up her hand. “Right or wrong, it’s how I feel. Asking my daughter to help clean that store . . . that wasn’t okay. And asking her to work there during the summer . . . honestly, Char, what were you thinking?”
This piece of information threw Charlotte for a loop. Work there? She wouldn’t have asked the girls to do that. For one, they weren’t old enough, not legally. Second, it was not her place to hire people like that. No, Julia had people to help run the store; they just needed to get it up and running first.
That’s when it all started to make sense: why Jenn sent her those angry texts and why she was so cold right now toward her.
“I didn’t offer them a job, Jenn. I promise.” She looked from Jenn to Robert. She saw him visibly relax at her words. The tenseness in her shoulders from the moment they walked in began to lessen.
“Is that what the kids think? Is that the reason for the cold shoulder we’ve got since we sat down?” Jordan asked. Charlotte was grateful for his question, for his willingness to stand beside her and offer clarity to the situation.
“Well, I wouldn’t say we’ve been giving you the cold shoulder,” Robert hedged. A slight flush crept along his neckline and upward to his cheeks.
“Are you saying it’s not true?” Jenn leaned forward, her elbows now on the table.
Charlotte nodded. “I promise. But I’m sorry they took it that way.” She turned to Robert. “You said they’re coming here for ice cream?” At Robert’s nod, she glanced at Jordan. “Let me clear up the confusion then, when they get here, okay?”
Jenn nodded, and Charlotte blew out a sigh of relief.
“Have you-all made up yet?” Fred appeared at their table with plates of food balanced in his hands and on his forearms. “This food’s about to grow cold.”
“We”—Charlotte pointed to herself and Jordan—“didn’t order yet.” She eyed the plates of food.
Fred just gave her a look. The gruff look said shut up and eat.
“Since when did you become a mind reader?” she asked. She never was one for taking hints.
“The only thing school-man here orders is the fish. You, you were already here so you weren’t gonna order the beef dip again. Doesn’t take a genius to figure folks out in this town, especially when they come here enough.”
Fred set down a plate with fried chicken and double-dipped french fries. Charlotte almost groaned in delight. It had been a while since she last had Fred’s fried chicken, and with the delicious aroma wafting upward, she was glad he knew her like he did. She took in a deep breath and then smiled at him.
He shrugged his broad shoulders before he set down the other plates. Charlotte eyed the three plates of fish and chips and shook her head.
“What? It’s the special.” Robert grinned before grabbing his fork and slicing into the crunchy skin of his fish.
They ate in silence, and Charlotte was almost able to tune out the voices and music that surrounded them. Fred’s was a popular hangout for not only the regular town folks but also for the summer families. Families were welcome to come in with their kids until eight o’clock. After that, Fred kicked them all out. Everyone knew the schedule, and those who were only interested in coming in to drink and dance knew to wait until after the families left.
Fred’s Tavern equaled Fred’s rules.
A comfortable silence hung over the table, and Charlotte grew to hope that the awkwardness of earlier had left.
“Sorry about the texts,” Jenn mumbled as she dipped a french fry into a small container of mayo. Charlotte smiled.
“No harm, no foul,” she said. “I’m just glad we were able to clear up the misunderstanding.” She leaned back, unable to finish the food on her plate. She eyed the door just as Charity and Amanda made their way in.
“Just in time for dessert,” she said as she pushed her plate away. “Why don’t I take the girls to a separate booth and have a chat.”
“What are you going to say?” Robert wiped his mouth with his napkin.
Charlotte thought for a moment. “What if I presented another option to them, to make up for whatever big summer plans they concocted this afternoon.”
“Like what?” Wariness crossed Jenn’s features.
“I think we still need volunteers for the Teddy Bear Picnics.”
Each week two Teddy Bear Picnics were held on the North Beach during the summer. One for the younger children, toddlers and up, and the second for the school-aged kids up to grade three. They were a huge enticement for families and would help to keep the girls occupied.
“That would be okay.” Jenn nodded her agreement.
“Great. And then once their ice cream arrives, maybe we can talk about Julia.” Charlotte let the bomb drop as she pushed her chair away and waved to the girls.
As she walked away, she could see the confusion mixed in with irritation swirl around her friend. Jordan’s brow arched when she looked his way, but she only smiled.
She didn’t need Jenn to agree with her idea, but she did need her friend to understand what she was trying to do. Keeping her in the dark wouldn’t work. It would only create more confusion and misunderstandings like today. And Jenn’s friendship meant too much to her to ruin it. No, she would gently explain her plan of action and why she felt it was so important, even though she knew it meant a careful tightrope walk across a very narrow line—not only with her friend, but with others who lived in Stillwater Bay.
CHAPTER TWENTY
JENNIFER
Hands on her hips, Jenn took stock of her back patio and frowned. It was time for a change. There was nothing wrong with the furniture. The paint still looked good from last fall when she’d given the wicker a fresh coat, but maybe if she rearranged the furniture and bought new throw cushions, that would help.
She also needed some flowerpots, preferably with live flowers. She couldn’t believe Robert hadn’t said anything yet about their lackluster garden this year. Maybe she should hire Paige to come in and revitalize it for her.
She toed a planter to the side of the house and then began the process of rearranging the furniture. She loved to sit in the large half chair she’d picked up a few years ago, but it always faced the side, so she had to sit at an angle to watch the sunset over the water most nights. Maybe she should move it to where their love seat sat instead.
Her body was full of nervous energy, and she needed to do something, anything, before she lost it. Robert was inside making some tea, but they’d barely spoken a word since they left Fred’s.
By the time Robert nudged open the patio door with two cups of tea in hand, Jenn had moved the furniture around a couple times, unsure of the arrangement. Normally, their patio set was centered around hosting parties, but since this year’s calendar was basically empty of their usual barbecues and picnics, there was no reason not to change things around. If Jenn’s favorite thing to do on her back deck was to watch the sun rise or set over the water, then that’s what the focus of the furniture arrangement would be.
Robert hesitated for a brief moment as he viewed the change but wisely kept quiet. He handed her a mug of tea before he sat in the love seat that was now at a slight angle and patted the seat beside him. Jenn had planned to sit in her seat, which now faced the water directly, but settled down beside her husband instead.
“Doing okay?”
She shrugged. She’d been fine up until they found Charity in Julia’s shop. Then everything had gone downhill from there. For a brief moment during dinner she thought maybe things would change, that maybe Charlotte had finally listened to her, but she’d been proven wrong. Again.
She was at a loss. Now, of all times, she needed her friend. Yes, Charlotte had been there for her in those first
few weeks when the pain was so intense she wasn’t sure how she could survive another minute, let alone get through a day. But the grief doesn’t end that quickly. The heartache doesn’t heal that fast. The memories linger and hit at the least expected moments. When everyone else had gone on with their lives, that’s when she needed her friend the most.
Was it wrong for her to expect Charlotte to realize that? Was it wrong of her to expect her best friend to place her own life on hold? Probably. But yet, it’s what she needed.
“I seem to be alone with my feelings.” Jenn noticed a lone seagull flying overhead.
“You’re not.” Robert’s fingers rested on her knee as if unsure his touch would be welcomed.
“You can honestly say you feel the same way toward Julia as I do?” The challenge was in her voice despite her quiet tone.
“No, in that I don’t.” Robert hesitated.
She just waited. Either she was alone or not.
“But I understand why you feel the way you do,” he sighed, as if the admission was too heavy to bear.
“I don’t understand.” She turned to face him better. “Why you don’t feel the same way. What is it about that woman that has you championing her?”
Robert shook his head, but Jenn caught the haunted look on his face. A look that had become familiar to her whenever Julia was mentioned.
“Have you tried to place yourself in her shoes? Just once?” Robert asked her.
Jenn shook her head. “Why would I? We don’t have a child who would ever consider taking another’s life. We didn’t have a child who acted out all his life, who was a bad seed—”
“He was not a bad seed.” Steel determination filled Robert’s voice as he interrupted her. “He was a sad boy. A lonely child. A child full of anger and hurt. But Julia’s not to blame.”
“She’s not?” Of course she was. Gabriel clearly needed help. They all knew it. They all tried, in one form or another. Most of the men in their community had tried to be a good influence, to help him, but it hadn’t been enough. Julia should have done more. She should have seen more. She should have stopped her son.
She should never have had a gun in the house that he could access. Ever.
“She did everything she could for Gabe.”
“Obviously not enough.”
“Was that her fault? She did everything she could with what resources she had. You know that. We all know that. It’s why we all pitched in to help when we could.” Robert pushed himself up from his seat and almost slammed his mug down on the table in front of them.
“Damn it, Jenn. You were the one who encouraged me to be a mentor to the boy, to help him pull through whatever he was going through, remember that? What were the words you used? Be a father figure?” His fingers air quoted around those words.
She remembered. She remembered calling Julia a friend once. She remembered sitting with her night after night at Gina’s, drinking coffee, sharing stories about raising their kids, and offering help and advice. She remembered Gabriel being a boy everyone wanted to help, but no one thought was fixable or even redeemable.
But they’d taken the view of “It takes a village to raise a child” to heart. And look where it had got them.
That was probably what hurt the most.
“I don’t think anything could have helped that boy. God knows we tried. Look where it got us.”
Robert’s head dropped to his chest, his eyes squeezed shut as he stood there.
“You’ll never forgive him or her, will you?”
She only shook her head. The words didn’t need to be said.
“I stand by what I said earlier, to Charlotte.” Robert lifted his head and stared at her; a fire of determination lit his face. His words were a challenge, but she didn’t care.
“Do what you need to do. Just don’t expect me to support you.” She pushed her shoulders back and tore her gaze away from his. She stared out at the swirl of clouds that appeared out of nowhere. “Not in this.”
Storm clouds rolled in off the bay, a visual display of visceral emotions, similar to what brewed inside Jenn. The rolling clouds were an array of purples and blues, with the light wisps being swallowed up as the wind picked up. Jenn shivered as a draft of cool air swirled around her.
“Storm is coming in,” Robert muttered as he stepped away from her and down the steps onto their lawn. Jenn followed him, a reminder of the days when they used to come out and watch the storms roll in off the bay in past years.
After a few moments, Robert turned to her. “Just promise me that whatever is happening right now, it won’t destroy us.”
Jenn stared at him. Pure honesty shone in his eyes, so pure that it hurt to see. Destroy them? It would tear them apart.
“I found the papers, Jenn. The ones in your desk.”
His words hung heavy between them.
“I’m not ready to give up on us. I don’t think you are either, otherwise you wouldn’t have hidden them in there for so long.”
He stepped toward her. She stepped back.
“I wasn’t going to tell you that I found them. But . . . I want to be honest with you”—he turned his back and stared out into the bay—“and I don’t want to lose you.” He turned back to her, and she saw the tears in his eyes. “Please, Jenn, please promise me that we can work through this?”
She shook her head, unable to promise him anything. She didn’t see how they could survive this if he publicly supported Julia, something Charlotte hadn’t asked them to do, but he’d volunteered for anyway at Fred’s.
Even Jordan had been caught off guard.
When Charlotte had returned to their table after speaking with the girls, a grim determination had settled over her.
“I am going to do something, but I want you to be aware of it first. I’m not asking you to help; I’m not even asking for your support. But I don’t want you to be caught unaware when you see things in the paper or hear me talking about it to others.”
The moment Charlotte said those words, Jenn knew. She knew it had to do with Julia, and she knew she didn’t want to hear any of it. She couldn’t. She wasn’t sure how she would handle the news so she stood up to leave, but Robert grabbed her hand and urged her to sit back down.
While Charlotte spoke, Jenn sat there, dumbfounded. Part of her admired Charlotte for what she was about to attempt, but another part of her couldn’t believe the audacity of her friend.
When Robert thanked Charlotte for telling them, Jenn sat there in silence. Charlotte became a stranger to her in those moments, a stranger she wasn’t sure she wanted to be associated with. But it was the words Robert said that took her breath away.
“I’ll support you. Whatever you need,” Robert said.
His words seemed to shock everyone at the table. When she could, Jenn stood up, brushed Robert’s hand off of her arm, and walked out of the tavern. She’d continued to walk up the street and across the bridge until Robert pulled alongside of her and waited for her to get in.
Now, as they stood there in their backyard, she tried to make sense of why Robert would support Julia.
“Jenn, please . . .” His voice broke as he shook his head and reached out to her.
“You . . . you can’t ask this of me. You can’t. You might be able to forgive her, move past what happened, but don’t ask me to. Please.” She bowed her head. “I can’t forgive her. I just can’t.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
She stared at him as if he were a stranger. Of course he was. He might not be saying it outright, but it was what he expected.
Her body shook as she struggled to take everything in. Everything in her life continued to be ripped away from her, as if her soul were being torn into tiny little pieces until there was nothing left of her. She couldn’t take any more. She edged backward, one step at a time, until she was far enough away
from Robert that he couldn’t touch her or even stop her.
“You’re asking for the impossible. You expect a miracle when there can’t be one. And if there could be, then you’re asking for the wrong one. Forgive Julia? Why? Can she turn back time? Can she bring Bobby back? Can she give me my son back?” She shook her head no. “You do this, Robert, and I’m not sure I will be able to forgive you either.”
The resignation on his face registered with her before she turned and headed back into the house, each step a nail in the coffin of their marriage. Somehow the gulf between them had widened until whatever foundation they’d had left disintegrated before their eyes. There was nothing left. Nothing for them to rebuild upon, not if he demanded the impossible.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
SAMANTHA
Samantha’s pen tapped on the table beside her as she reread her last sentence.
The heart of a town isn’t an idea, a purpose or even a mission statement. It’s a person.
When she’d first talked with Charlotte about tackling this project, her initial thought was it was a good excuse to extend her stay in Stillwater. But the more she thought of the idea, the more she liked it, and her notebook was full of random notes of what she could do.
Let’s remind the people what our town is about. That’s what Charlotte had wanted.
Arnold, the editor of the Stillwater News, was skeptical, and Sam didn’t blame him. This column of hers was meant to remind people that Julia Berry wasn’t a monster; she wasn’t a horrible, evil person. She was the heart and soul of what this town embodied, or at least, had been.
Charlotte wanted Sam’s first article to be centered around Julia, but Arnold disagreed, and Samantha had to agree with him. It was smarter to keep Julia in the background, and yet, always have her there, in each article. Sam’s goal was to focus on those around Julia, keeping her to the sidelines for as long as possible until it became evident that the real heart of the town was Julia. Or at least, she was part of it.
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