A Sweethaven Summer

by Courtney Walsh

  Mr. Hanes cleared his throat. “Miss Carter, I don’t think I like where this is headed.”

  “I’m not accusing you of anything.” Campbell’s stomach churned.

  “That’s not how it looks from where I’m sitting. Men in my profession have to be especially careful to avoid these sorts of accusations. I can tell you in no uncertain terms that I was never involved with your mother or any other student.” He didn’t raise his voice, but Campbell didn’t question his intent.

  “I understand.” She cracked her knuckles. “I’m really just trying to find my father. I needed to exhaust all my resources.”

  His face softened. “Well, no harm done.”

  “Do you keep your class lists?”

  “We weren’t computerized back then, but I have files that go back at least that long. I’ve got my own system, I guess.” He walked over to a large metal file cabinet that had to be fifty years old. He yanked the bottom drawer open. “The eighties are on the bottom.”

  Campbell watched as he flipped through the files and finally held up a manila folder.

  “Eighty-six,” he said. He opened it and rubbed his beard. “Hm. Looks like there was only one boy in that class.”

  “Really?”

  “Tony Angelotti.”

  Campbell rummaged through her purse until she found the small notebook she carried with her. “Does it say anything else about him?” Her heart raced.

  “No natural talent,” Mr. Hanes read from the sheet in front of him. “Guess he wasn’t much of an artist.”

  Campbell smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Hanes. This is really helpful.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “If you think of anything else, would you mind giving me a call?”

  “Sounds fair,” he said.

  Campbell jotted down her cell number and thanked him for his time.

  She wished the elevator could transport her to a land free of embarrassment. What was she doing accusing random men of being her father? But she’d risk embarrassment all over again if it got her closer to the truth.

  Tony Angelotti.

  She drove toward Sweethaven, back toward the interstate that would lead her home. But as the Sweethaven lighthouse came into view on the horizon, Campbell started to see things differently. This man, the teacher, had given her a name. A new lead. And, she’d eliminated Mr. Hanes as a father. That was progress. She still had a faceless father, a mysterious grandfather, an unknown benefactor, and a bank account full of money, but she had one solid answer: the art teacher was not her dad. Maybe she could do this after all.

  The short car ride back to Sweethaven had been a mental tug-of-war. She considered that it didn’t matter where the money had come from. She should accept it and move on. But it did matter. The money felt dirty. Like a payoff. A bundle of we’re easing our own guilt cash.

  She drove to the beach and parked in the lot with the best view of the lighthouse. Mom’s old trunk filled the back seat, but she reached the latch and propped the lid open as best she could.

  She rifled through Mom’s old things and found a Blossom Queen sash and tiara, a pennant for the Sweethaven High School football team, a dried rose, Mom’s old Polaroid camera, a stuffed frog with a tag around his neck that read You have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your handsome prince.

  Mom never had.

  Or had she? What if Lila was wrong and her mom really was in love with someone that summer? What if they couldn’t be together? Maybe her grandparents had forced them apart. Maybe Tony Angelotti didn’t meet their standards.

  TWENTY

  Jane

  After she left Adele’s, Jane had called Graham, certain he would agree that she’d done enough time in Sweethaven. She could take the scrapbook home and never have to come back to this place. But her husband, as usual, surprised her.

  “Hon, you should stay. Didn’t you say the Blossom Festival is this weekend?”

  “Yes, but we have things at home. Church. Other things.”

  “Jim’s covering for me Sunday. I’m bringing the kids up.”

  Jane’s heart leapt. But as quickly as it soared with happiness it plummeted with fear. The girls hadn’t been here in six years. Sam had never been.

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Graham.”

  “Too late, I’ve made all the plans.”

  Jane’s pulse quickened.

  “Do you really think the girls will be that into summer at the lake anymore? We don’t even have Internet access.” Why did she insist on carrying this cross alone? Was she the only one who could decide how their family grieved?

  “They’ll be fine.” He paused. “Jane, I think our family needs this. We’ve been stuck in a holding pattern for six years. Maybe we need some closure.”

  What could she say? She hung up and realized she’d already started praying.

  “God help me through this weekend. I cannot do this on my own.” She’d awoken that morning praying the same prayer. Now, sitting at the kitchen table with a large mug of coffee, she felt more peaceful, as if something had shifted inside.

  A knock on the door startled her. She walked to the entryway and saw Adele’s white hair through the window.

  “Hi, darlin’. I brought you a carrot cake.” She held the cake holder out as an offering.

  “Thanks, Adele, but I don’t know if I can have that in my house. The way I’ve been feeling, I’d probably eat the whole thing myself.”

  “Cake’s meant to be eaten, hon.” She stepped inside and shut the door behind her. “Listen, I know it’s not easy for you to be here—and that scrapbook houses a world of hurt—”

  “No, the scrapbook houses a world of happiness.”

  “And that’s why it hurts.” Adele touched Jane’s arm. The nearness of another person unnerved her. Times like this she wrapped herself in loneliness and retreated on the couch with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s. Knowing Adele, she wouldn’t get off that easily.

  “The cottage is lovely, Jane.”

  “We’ve been renting it out summers,” Jane said. “Making a little extra money.”

  “But you haven’t been back since—”

  Jane shook her head before Adele could say his name. Alex. “No, but Graham’s bringing the kids up.” She glanced around the cottage, out the window—anywhere but at Adele. Jane hated how weak she still felt, how volatile. One look and Adele would see the pain she worked so hard to bury.

  “For Blossom Fest? Perfect. We can do a barbeque at my house.”

  “I don’t want you going to all that trouble.” She could smell the sugary sweetness of the carrot cake through the Tupperware.

  “Don’t be silly. I’ll invite Lila and maybe Luke will come.” Adele smiled.

  “What about Campbell?” Jane searched Adele’s face for a sign she’d simply forgotten to mention Suzanne’s daughter.

  “Of course, if she’s still here. She seems ready to bolt back to the city at any second.”

  Jane sighed. “That’s my fault.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “I went to talk with her after she went upstairs last night. I think I only made it worse. Can you imagine finding out you have a grandfather after all these years?”

  “I think she has a lot goin’ on right now. I’m still hoping she’ll stay around.” Adele smiled warmly. “What about you now? How are ya, honey?”

  “I’m fine.” She sat at the rickety kitchen table, which was distressed from wear and age.

  “I don’t believe you. I can see it in your eyes.” Adele put a hand over hers.

  “It’s been six years. It should get easier.” Jane purposely sat with her back to the window that overlooked the lake. The view made their cottage one of the best on the block—maybe one of the best on this side of Sweethaven. But Jane couldn’t stand to take in that view. It mocked her. Reminded her of all she’d lost.

  “Let yourself feel the pain. Only way to heal.” Adele’s eyes carried a sadness—an understanding. Per
haps anyone with children could imagine the horror of losing one.

  “I won’t keep you. I just wanted to bring the cake by. Would you stop over for dinner tonight? I sure am enjoying the company.” Adele’s face fell and for the first time, Jane recognized the loneliness in her eyes. The older woman had lost her husband a few years ago, and now that Jane knew she and Meg weren’t on speaking terms, she saw a very different Adele. She’d always been so strong, but perhaps Jane had been too caught up in her own pain to notice Adele’s.

  “I would love to, Adele. What can I bring?”

  “Your pretty self is all.” She stood. “And maybe a smile if you’ve got one.”

  Jane walked her to the door. “Thank you for the cake. I’m sure it’s wonderful.”

  “Believe me, these hips are wearin’ their fair share of Me-maw’s carrot cake.” She laughed. “Enjoy it. I have a couple other stops to make, so I’ll get outta your hair.”

  Jane closed the door behind Adele, and the silence of the cottage haunted her. She walked through the long hallway and into the master bedroom. The bed was made and the room decorated in a nautical theme. Her mother’s doing. She heaved her suitcase onto the bed and unzipped the front pouch.

  She pulled out a small scrapbook. The plain blue front hadn’t been decorated, but knowing its contents brought tears to her eyes. She ran a hand over it but couldn’t open it. Not yet. She couldn’t see his face smiling at her. Not while she sat in this house. In this town.

  She tucked it away and wiped a tear from her cheek.

  She lay on the bed and her mind transported her back to one summer on the lake. Even as a kid, she’d never liked the water. Rightfully so, it turned out. It seemed strange now that the lake had been the backdrop for so many of her memories. One in particular flittered to the forefront.

  Suzanne lay beside Jane on the dock with one toe in the water. Her red and white bikini showed off her skinny frame and tan skin. Jane twisted the drawstring on her shorts but refused to take them off. No sense sharing her newfound cellulite with the entire beach.

  Lila fanned herself with a magazine. She looked like a movie star with her wide sunglasses and perfectly coiffed hair. Jane pulled her legs underneath her, sitting cross-legged on the dock and wishing she could disappear.

  Meghan lay on her stomach, her red hair dumped in a messy bun on top of her head. She’d been quiet so long, Jane assumed she’d fallen asleep.

  At the end of the dock, Jane spotted Mark Davis and one of his friends. She shifted on her towel. What did she look like next to her three skinny friends? She wished she could crawl into a hole.

  She spent most nights staring down the street at Mark Davis’s house, wishing he’d come out and talk to her like he used to when they were kids. It was silly, really. Boys didn’t like her that way.

  “There’s your boyfriend, Janie.” Lila hopped up and waved at them. “Hi guys!” Like a swimsuit model, she exuded confidence in that pink gingham bathing suit with her long, skinny legs and perfectly golden tan.

  “He’s not my boyfriend, Lila.” Jane’s heart raced as the two boys walked toward them.

  “Want some lemonade?” Lila held up her cooler and Mark took it from her.

  “Thanks.” He took a long drink. Lila giggled and flirted. Both of the boys seemed taken with her. Who wouldn’t be?

  “You guys busy later? We’re going over to Jane’s.” Lila shot her a look.

  “Lila.” Jane’s parents wouldn’t let her have boys over and Lila knew it.

  “Yeah, that’d be great.” Mark flashed a smile at Lila and then turned to Jane. “Haven’t been there all summer.”

  Lila raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure Jane would love to have you over.” She winked at Jane. “Jane, what’s wrong? You’re all red. Too much sun, maybe?” Lila giggled and turned her attention back to the boys.

  The sound of a splash caught Jane off guard.

  They all turned and saw that Suzanne had jumped in the lake, halting the conversation and saving Jane from more embarrassment. “Come on in, guys, the water’s great.” Suzanne swam away from the dock, and within seconds all of the attention had shifted from Jane to the water.

  The others joined Suzanne, but at the thought of jumping in the water, Jane’s stomach tensed. Ever since a wave pulled her under two summers ago, she’d stayed on dry ground.

  Jane forced a smile. “I’m going to go home. I think I have to babysit today.” She didn’t wait for them to try and stop her. Instead, she gathered her things and started down the length of the dock, squinting in the bright summer sun.

  Tears poured down her cheeks. She dug in her bag for a pair of sunglasses and prayed they would hide the pain she felt at her own inferiority.

  Now, standing in the old cottage, Jane begged her mind to stop dredging up old memories. The therapist had said she had control over her thoughts, that she should “take every one captive.” It sounded like nonsense to her. She felt helpless to stop the ping-ponging of painful memories. This was why she needed to go back home—to get out of Sweethaven.

  She thought about how her life had turned out, how her husband had been exactly what she’d spent those lonely nights praying for. Everything hadn’t gone south, so why did she find it so difficult to focus on the good things?

  She wrapped her arms around her body and attempted to comfort herself as best she could.

  Sweethaven might be a magical place, but for Jane that magic had died six years ago… . And it had tainted everything she thought she knew about the little town she used to love so much.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Adele

  Adele picked up the crumb cake and walked out the front door. Her second delivery of the day. The sweets were a good excuse to check in on people, but Luke had accused her of snooping, and now she felt self-conscious about it. Did it show she cared or make her look nosy? The truth was somewhere in the middle.

  Adele waved at Ida and Jack Sanderson walking their Yorkie down the middle of the road.

  “You two are putting the rest of us to shame with all this walkin’!”

  “We’re like kids again, we’re so healthy!” Ida grinned. “You should come with us some time.”

  “The only exercise I’m getting is from walking from the fridge to the stove.” She patted her backside. “It shows too!”

  They laughed and waved, then continued up the hill while Adele hustled in the other direction, toward Main. She turned on Juniper Drive and walked down into a cul-de-sac where a semi-circle of shingled cottages stood, Reverend Carter’s home on the corner. The bushes in front of the cottage needed some attention, and the oversized terra-cotta planters on the porch were now containers of dirt. Adele made a mental note to come back and plant something in them. Even the tiniest bit of color could brighten things up.

  Judging by the appearance of the house, things needed to be brightened.

  She knocked on the door and waited. Nothing. She knocked again. Still nothing.

  Finally, she walked around the side of the house. The back yard faced the woods at the top of the Dunes. Perhaps Reverend Carter had decided to take in the lovely scenery from his three-season room. She rounded the corner and saw a tall Adirondack chair at the center of the back yard. Reverend Carter sat in the chair, staring into the woods, a mug in his hand. Suzanne’s funeral had set him back, but he hadn’t been himself for months now.

  “Reverend?” Adele stepped toward him. He sat stock still. A flash of panic swelled inside her. “Michael?”

  Finally, he looked at her with empty eyes. “Adele,” he said, his voice raspy, almost a whisper. “I wish God would just take me.” Reverend Carter turned his gaze back to the woods.

  Adele set the cake down on the ground and knelt beside him. She’d watched his mistakes tear him apart—a man who knew the Lord so well—and she’d always wondered why he didn’t accept God’s forgiveness. Why did he choose to punish himself when he knew better than anyone that God’s grace is more than sufficient?

>   She laid a hand over his. “How long have you been out here?”

  “Since yesterday.”

  “Since you saw Campbell?”

  He nodded.

  “How about we go inside? You must be hungry.”

  “I’m fine, Adele. Don’t worry yourself about me.”

  “We need to talk.”

  Like a child, the man stood and did as he was told. She took the empty mug and followed him through the back door. Once inside, she saw the magnitude of his pain. Garbage littered the kitchen counters. Dirty plates and silverware were piled high in the sink. Judging by the odor, the garbage hadn’t been taken out for days. Probably since he heard about Suzanne’s death.

  “I made you crumb cake. Me-maw’s recipe. You know how good it is.” She watched as he stood, almost in a daze, as if he didn’t know what to do with himself.

  “I think maybe a shower. I’ll go shower. I’ll be fine. You go.” He waved her off and vanished up the stairs.

  This was worse than she thought.

  She rolled up her sleeves and got to work. It hadn’t been too many months since the last time she paid him this kind of visit. After Suzanne left her house, she came to see her old friend. Found him in a similar state. He hadn’t been taking care of himself for a while now.

  She washed dishes, took trash to the garage, and put away everything she could in the cupboards. As she worked, she prayed for her friend. In the years since he lost his wife, she’d watched out for him now and then. If she didn’t, the pastor would live off frozen dinners. She cared about him, and she knew God wouldn’t want him to beat himself up like this.

  By the time she’d finished, Rev. Michael Carter had returned, showered and clean, but the water couldn’t wash away the sadness that filled his face.

  Years of remorse had broken his spirit.

  “You didn’t have to clean up in here, Adele. I’ll get it together eventually.” He avoided her eyes as he glanced around at the now clean kitchen.

  “Don’t be silly. That’s what friends are for. Nothin’ wrong with gettin’ a little help now and then.” She cut a slice of cake and set it in front of him. “I made some coffee.” She poured a mug, hoping it would rouse him from his trance-like state.