by Susan Sands
“But I’ve also lost ten years of my life that I’d planned to spend with Cammie. She was the person I wanted to marry, that I’d planned to spend my life with. I’ve finally been able to see her again and realize the horrible choices I made, besides having Samantha, of course.”
“Are you saying you want Cammie back in your life permanently?”
“I don’t know if that’s an option,” Grey said. “But I still feel the same about her. I understand it’s a mess, but there’s still a lot between us.”
Sabine was quiet, and Grey felt as if she were waiting for him to say more, but what? He’d already opened up more to Sabine about Cammie than he had to anyone in over ten years. Once he’d had no secrets. Cammie had always known how he’d felt about her. Everyone had known. Now he felt like he had to keep everything in to the point of choking on it. He didn’t want to live that way anymore. He wouldn’t live that way.
“Have you discussed your feelings with Cammie?”
He was quiet. Had he? Not exactly. She’d been rightly focused on her mother’s recovery. And he had Sam. Cammie had a fiancé. They had betrayal and guilt and hurt and anger to slog through before anything like a future could even begin to glimmer. The silence stretched. He’d never realized how much silence could be like a voice urging him on. The silences with Deb had pulsed with anger and blame. The silences with Cammie had been sweet with promise. He closed his eyes briefly.
“To some degree. I told her how I felt. I said I didn’t want her to leave town before we settled things between us.”
*
Kissed, he thought.
“There’s a lot of guilt and hurt to work through.”
“So you are looking for forgiveness and closure, but would like to see where it would take you.”
“Hell yes.”
“Sounds like you and Cammie have a complicated history.”
Massive understatement.
“And Samantha has many complicated feelings of her own to work out.”
Grey felt a spurt of anger along with pain.
“I’ve always put my daughter first.”
He’d sacrificed to try to make Deb happy and had never come close. He’d endured. But he wanted more than that. Seeing Cammie again. Being home, being with her made him feel alive for the first time in a decade. But he was aware that if Sam blamed Cammie for anything Deb related it would be a huge hole to dig himself out of. That was why he was here. To help his daughter. To help himself.
“It is not unusual for children to resent a parent for moving on emotionally,” Sabine said slowly. “Samantha will need to learn how to sort through her feelings. Communicate and accept them. Trust is essential.”
He nodded.
“It’s important for her to build on her circle of friendships. And we’ll need to work with Samantha on her immediate misunderstanding of the recent gossip and help her recognize the unintended consequences when people carelessly speak without thinking.”
He nodded. Boy, wasn’t that the truth?
Why was progress so confusing?
Sam was waiting out in Sabine’s cozy waiting area working on her usual writing assignment. Her gaze sharpened when she saw them standing together, her expression suddenly wary. Sabine obviously took note of the change in her posture and awareness, stating as they approached, “Samantha, you do realize that some of your father’s friends will be women, don’t you? Just like at school. I bet some girls are friends with boys.”
She nodded, still with a somewhat sullen stare, “Just as long as they aren’t Lucy’s Aunt Cammie.”
Grey felt as if he’d been punched. It was hard to breathe.
“Really?” Sabine sounded faintly surprised. “Huh. Okay, honey, I want you to write down all the reasons you feel that Cammie wouldn’t be a good friend for your dad.”
Samantha’s mouth pursed tightly.
“That’s this week’s assignment in addition to your daily email. So write down the things you know about Cammie from being around her, and then the things you’ve heard about her from other people—like the gossip stuff. That way, we can separate the things you know for sure from the things you’ve heard and aren’t certain about.”
Samantha looked confused.
“You must have heard things about her from other people. You live in a small town. People like to talk, but that doesn’t mean that stuff is true.” She shrugged. “Everyone deserves a fair shake, don’t you think?”
Samantha rolled that around for a few seconds and then nodded solemnly. “I guess that’s fair. But I have reasons I don’t like her, true ones.”
“Okay. Write them down,” Sabine said then turned to Grey. “Why don’t we meet later in the week? Sooner is better than later to get started with this dialogue, I think.”
Grey still felt as if he was reeling from Sammie’s dislike of Cammie, but he didn’t regret sharing his feelings. He wanted his daughter happy and healthy, but he needed to finally take charge of his own life and not let Sam run it like Deb had. He knew from ten years experience that wasn’t healthy. Sabine would help Sam release some of her anger toward Cammie. Help her make sense of her feelings. He wanted to try for a future with Cammie, make her see that she didn’t need to leave Alabama, that Ministry didn’t have to be her Misery, but he needed Sabine’s reassurance and help guiding him so if he did have a shot with Cammie, he wouldn’t do irreparable damage to Sam. Damn, this was all so complicated.
*
The pageant was coming up, and with it a million details to attend for Evangeline House. Cammie hadn’t worked this hard in a very long time. She’d forgotten what a large event it was and how it eclipsed every other aspect of her life while the planning was happening. While she continued to be distracted by glimpses of Grey working, she hadn’t even thought about Jason in days. She’d barely had time to go to the bathroom lately, she excused the lapse, but couldn’t excuse the random walkabouts she made during her busy work day where she just happened to run into Grey.
Jason had finally returned her call, and when they’d spoken, he’d seemed loving and concerned, but something was missing. “Hey there. How’s it going?” he’d asked.
“Pretty busy planning the Pecan Pie pageant for Mom. I feel like I haven’t heard from you in a month, Jason. Is everything alright?” She asked.
“Sure, babe. I’ve been crazy busy. Things here have really picked up. We’ve got a big account and it’s taken all my time lately. I really miss you.” He sounded sincere, mostly.
“I miss you too, Jason.” Maybe she should test him. “Our big family event is coming up next weekend. Did you want to fly down and join us?” Say no, say no.
There was a pause at the other end of the line. “Cammie, babe, I wish I could. I offered to come down a few weeks ago, but you turned me down. Now I can’t. I’m so sorry. Things are too insane around here, and I’ve been working nonstop.”
“It’s okay, no worries. I’ll be home soon, a couple weeks at the most,” she paused a second then, “I think my mom is calling from upstairs. We’ll talk soon. Bye.” She hung up just as she heard him say her name.
She’d been sitting at her mother’s desk while they’d spoken, and when she looked up from ending the call, Grey was standing there, a sheepish expression, getting busted eavesdropping.
“Ouch,” he said.
“Excuse me?” she asked, trying to give him the stink eye for his rudeness, but finding herself ridiculously wanting to smile. “Did you need something or just intend to listen to my private conversation and sneak off?” She demanded, proud of how cool she sounded.
“Sorry, I was about to let you know I was here when things got a little awkward. So, lover boy can’t make it down to the beauty pageant?”
“Don’t you have work to finish?”
“Yeah, about that. I wanted to find out where you want me to store all these really nice books while we make a mess of the library shelving? I’ve got a couple dozen boxes, and we’ll seal the contents, but I thi
nk we should put them someplace safe. I noticed that some are first editions and very old.”
Cammie wished she could take back that conversation with Jason. It was embarrassing and yes, awkward that Grey overheard. She knew Grey wished she was free of her engagement to provide him some kind of shot, and this just put a dent in the armor in her ironclad defense against him. At least he would perceive it as such.
“You can put the books in the walk-in attic access at the top of the stairs,” she directed him.
He didn’t leave immediately, but stood and held her gaze, his gorgeous green eyes narrowed and challenging.
“Did you need anything else?” She was acting bitchy, and she couldn’t help it. A muscle twitched in his strong shaven jaw. He seemed to be making up his mind about something.
Cammie held her breath, not knowing what to expect. The house was empty except for her mother upstairs.
Before she could blink, Grey made his way around her mother’s large, mahogany desk and hauled her up from the leather chair and into his very strong arms. Her pitiful whimper must’ve signaled consent, because she didn’t struggle otherwise.
She allowed his lips to crush hers, then, surprising herself, her arms tightened around his neck and she became an equal, aggressive participant. She wanted him. Need flooded through her woman parts and she pressed closer, this scene reminiscent of that night outside the bar. He leaned her backward, torqueing her against the desk, one hand roaming through her hair, the other working its way down her spine, then slipping inside the back of her waistband. She whispered, “Yes,” into his mouth, while trying to figure out how to climb him.
“Oh—” The one surprised syllable was like a bucket of ice water.
Cammie almost didn’t register the sound, but thankfully, she could still hear beyond the blood pounding in her ears. Good Lord, how humiliating.
Dismounting Grey wasn’t a graceful movement. He stepped in front of her, obviously trying to shield her from any possible loosened clothing. Her blouse was most certainly untucked and opened an extra button at the top. “Mom, uh—I—”
Her mother’s expression appeared thoughtful, not as shocked as it might have, given the situation. “Okay, dear. I’ll just be in the kitchen having a cup of tea. I had a couple things to discuss with you.”
“Uh—okay. I’ll be there in a minute.”
After her mother eased out of earshot, she and Grey began laughing. “Wow, does that bring back high school or what?” How many times had they been busted by her mother making out in various places both in and out-of-doors during their teens? Mom had usually been a good sport, so long as they’d been fully dressed.
*
Grey found himself stopping by the old farmhouse again after he’d dropped Samantha off at school. It hadn’t really been his intention to come back this soon, but the property already felt like home. Someday he would inherit his father’s place, hopefully not within the next twenty years or so. He could hardly control the urge to have another look around here.
After clearing out the flooring from the barn’s loft, Grey noticed what great potential the building had as a feasible workshop, should he have the opportunity to bid for it. It was large, airy, well-built and once cleaned out, would efficiently compartmentalize and store materials both large and small.
The open area in the center could be used as a workspace for refinishing custom woodwork or for any number of things. A large covered area came in handy so often in his line of work.
“Hey there, Grey. Did you get all the floor boards?” George Crawford appeared through the side door.
“Oh, hi, George. I’d like to say I came because I’d forgotten something. But I admit to trespassing just now.”
“You’re always welcome here, young man. Seems like this old place has gotten into your blood.” George’s shrewd smile let Grey know he understood his feelings.
“Something about it just fits.”
“I’ve spoken with Momma some. She’s pretty sure she’s ready to downsize and sell the place. You interested?”
Grey’s heart sped up. “You’re serious?”
“Sad that it’s come to this, but I’d rather it go to somebody who feels the same about it as we all do around the family.”
“I hadn’t really decided to stay in the area for certain, so I’ll need to speak with my daughter and my father.” Grey said.
“Take your time. There’s no rush here.”
“I’ve got your numbers. Thanks for letting me roam around.”
“Look forward to hearing from you. You’ll see yourself out?” George asked.
Grey nodded, letting this unexpected rightness seep into his soul. He saw Cammie here with him and Samantha every time. While it was likely a fun daydream, he couldn’t help but wonder and hope.
*
There was an art to making the perfect pecan pie. Cammie believed she’d finally mastered it. Pecan trees thrived in the south and were often the preferred nut over walnuts or most any other, for that matter. A whole pie full of them, well, that was dang Southern.
Winning against some of the competitors couldn’t be accomplished by whipping up the recipe off the back of the Karo syrup bottle. Entrants far and wide sought this prestigious jewel in their baker’s crown. Imagining the accolade in the front window of future her restaurant motivated Cammie to break new ground in the pecan pie arena.
The idea for a restaurant had begun as a tiny nagging seed, and had now taken root inside her brain to the point that she could envision nearly every detail; her menu, the ambience in the dining room, and the kitchen—that was the most exciting part. Her own loud, well run kitchen, filled with those who shared her passion for cooking.
“I believe I’ve died and gone to heaven.” Sniffing appreciatively, Ben sauntered into the room. She shook off her daydream and brought herself back to her mother’s kitchen, currently in shambles from her pecan pie experimentation.
“Hey, you.” She gave him her cheek to kiss, as her hands were sticky with corn syrup and brown sugar.
“I’ve gone a little overboard, but figured out how to win the contest.” Cammie indicated the hurricane-like condition, and the number of test pies she’d constructed.
“Gonna give the reigning Shelia-Sue a run for her money?” He grinned.
“Shelia-Sue Gurtney? She’s back? Noooo…” Even after all these years, Cammie remembered the legend of Shelia-Sue. She’d become the home economics teacher at their high school just after Mrs. Marshall retired and they’d all graduated. Ms. Gurtney’s pies were iconic at the county fairs and had gone on to take top prizes at the state level. She and her predecessor, Mrs. Marshall, had had epic warfare over whose recipes should be taught to the students beyond Mrs. Marshall’s thirty year reign.
“Yep. Got your work cut out for you, sister.” Ben grinned.
“This may require further experimentation.” But really, Cammie felt like she’d wrapped up this pie thing. The recipe was triple-encrypted in the stash of files on her laptop, as she been making notes from the moment the idea had taken root.
“Well, you might want to hurry it up. Don’t you have the big event cranking up in a couple of hours?” His eyebrows raised, he pointed to the clock on the wall.
“Oh, shi—” As she completed her expletive, Cammie realized that she’d gotten lost in her cooking once again. Fortunately, she hadn’t blown it and still had time to prepare for the evening ahead. Most of the set up was being handled by the rental company, and Emma was supervising the various other particulars.
*
The stage, complete with runway, was fully assembled. This was a large production requiring video and still photography, and advanced lighting. Audio and photography assistants bustled around, bumping into one another laying wiring for cameras and lighting. The producer rapidly ground out orders to minions rapid-fire, raising the level of tension to a fever pitch within the large ballroom.
Cammie’d learned from past experience to stay out of Emma
’s way whenever possible during this event. Nothing would be quite right, and since Cammie was running things behind the scenes, Emma, Queen Bee of the Miss Pecan Pie Princess Pageant would hunt her down regarding every single detail. It had been several years, but one did not forget the spectacle of her sister during this event. Once seen, it couldn’t be unseen.
Cammie had dressed carefully, since this was one of the few black tie occasions in the community. Even though the pageant featured children, it was considered a major social event. Her sleeveless black dress fit like a second skin, though somehow the slightly stretchy fabric allowed for breathing and movement. It had a light shimmer, without being too shiny or flashy. When she’d seen it in the store last year, Cammie had splurged on the dress, placing it in the back of her closet, knowing the perfect event would present itself. She’d thrown it in while packing for this trip, never intending to be here this long, but just in case.
Cammie’s breath whooshed out of her lungs, as she turned and met Grey’s stare. It nearly melted her with its intensity. She went hot all over. He was hot all over in his black tux. The man had no right to come here to her place looking like that—at her like that. In fact, she’d not known he was coming this evening. Next to him were Samantha and his father. So sweet of him to bring his daughter here. Of course she’d want to come when everyone at school must be talking about it, and she imagined Samantha would meet up with Lucy. It was such a feminine thing, a beauty pageant. He was really a good daddy.
The lights went down, the curtain opened and the show began. She didn’t see Grey again until afterward.
Emma sparkled when the spotlight shone on her. She commanded the attention of every eye in the ballroom, introducing her protégée, one by one, and the other entrants who’d been coached outside Emma’s Jewels. Emma’s company was a major sponsor of this pageant, and her logo, a sparkling diamond tiara sitting atop a cut emerald hung along the back of the stage with the other sponsor’s banners. Emma’s, of course, held the place of honor. Emma had really made something of her pageant coaching business and Cammie admired her for it. She knew her sister was a force to be reckoned with.