by Karen White
“Allow me,” Dan said as he reached for the knob at the same time she did, his hand covering hers. They both jumped back, and it was unclear to Merilee who was more surprised at the warmth generated by the brief touch of skin.
She held up her hands. “It’s all yours.”
He pulled on the knob several times before the door swung open with a loud whoosh. When they exited the office, Merilee noticed that most of the people on the showroom floor were looking in their direction.
“So,” she said, walking toward one of the locked display cases, “let me show you what I’ve got.” She bent down, and using the key she’d obtained from the store manager, she unlocked a drawer and pulled out a large velvet tray where several sparkling baubles winked up at them from the overhead lights.
“Wow,” Daniel said, picking up a diamond-and-sapphire emerald-cut ring, then putting it down quickly. “Lots of big and shiny. Just like Heather likes to wear.” His tone matched Merilee’s own thoughts, but she kept them to herself. It wasn’t her job to comment on Heather’s taste, or lack thereof. She was here to do a favor for a friend.
His gaze wandered briefly over the pieces she’d selected, then strayed to an adjacent case, where a lesser-known jewelry designer’s latest line was being displayed. Merilee adored this designer, loved his use of semiprecious stones set in metal shaped to mimic the natural world. He pointed to a ring with the base of a platinum oyster sheltering a saltwater pearl resting gracefully on top. “May I see that?”
“Of course,” she said, quickly unlocking the case and pulling out the ring. She handed it to him. “This might be my favorite piece in the entire store. It’s exquisite—understated yet undeniably elegant.” She shrugged, suddenly at a loss for descriptive words. “It’s simple—and yet manages to be just gorgeous.” She looked up at Dan with a frown. “But I didn’t think it would be to Heather’s taste.”
He shook his head with a grimace, examining the ring. “It’s not really—although she might like it. But I love it. It actually reminds me of her—she’s the pearl, so beautiful and valuable. And the shell is the life she has made for us and our family.” His eyes met hers. “Can you try it on so that I can see what it looks like on a woman’s hand?”
“Of course.” And because she no longer wore a ring on her left hand, she slid it onto her third finger. The wide band was hard to get over her knuckle, so Dan had to help her slide it the rest of the way onto her finger. It was such an intimate gesture that she found she couldn’t look into his face.
Holding up her left hand and staring at her palm, she said, “How does it look?”
“Perfect,” he said. “Absolutely perfect.” And when she did finally look up, she saw that he was looking at her. “I’ll take it.”
She had to clear her throat to speak. “Are you sure you don’t want to see anything else? I have a whole tray of jewelry that I—”
“No. I don’t always know what I’m looking for, but when I see it, I know that’s what I want.”
As she fumbled to get the ring off her finger and look at the price tag, since neither of them had any idea how much it cost, Gayla approached. “Have you made your decision?” she asked, her tone of mock interest more than mildly grating.
“Yes,” Dan said, taking the ring from Merilee, then handing it to Gayla. “Can you put this on my account and wrap it up? I think Heather will be surprised.”
“I’d say,” Gayla said, not bothering to hide her dismay at the relatively low price point or the less-than-sparkly choice. “Are you sure this is what you want? Perhaps I can show you—”
“I’m sure,” Dan said. “I’ve got a meeting I need to get to. I’ll pick it up later.”
“Oh,” said Merilee. “If it helps, I can bring it home and meet you at the school or something, if that makes it easier.”
He smiled warmly. “That would be nice. Thank you.”
With barely concealed disappointment, Gayla excused herself and hurried to the back office to ring up the purchase and have it gift wrapped in the store’s signature silver and gold paper.
“Thanks again for your help,” Dan said, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his phone.
“You’re more than welcome. And if you need to return it . . .”
“That’s odd,” he said, staring at his phone, a frown puckering his eyebrows.
“What’s wrong?”
“My phone’s off. I was wondering why it wasn’t buzzing.” He pressed the “on” button, and while he waited for it to power up, he said, “I won’t be returning the ring. It’s something Heather and I agreed on when we got married—we never return a gift. We decided that if you love a person enough, you’ll love anything they get for you if you know it comes from the heart. That’s how I know she’ll love this ring—if not initially, then she’ll grow to love it.”
Merilee almost asked if they were speaking about the same Heather. “That’s a beautiful sentiment—something I’ll have to remember.”
Dan was staring at the screen of his phone, a deep crease between his brows. “Looks like I accidentally picked up Heather’s phone again. She just bought a new one that’s exactly like mine, so now we have the same phone with the same case. Never happened before, but now it’s happening a lot, it seems.” He smiled up at her, but his expression was lacking in warmth. “Guess I need to run and find Heather and swap phones before my meeting. Thanks again.”
Before she could step away, he’d leaned down and kissed her on the cheek right there in the middle of the showroom floor. She turned back to the case and began replacing all the jewelry she’d gathered, still feeling his lips on her cheek and wondering how many people had seen.
Eighteen
SUGAR
Sugar sat in front of the open window, her fingers stilled on the keyboard in midthought, startled the way a breeze could carry with it so many memories. It was the first whiff of cooler air, heralding the lingering death of a Georgia summer. It was only early September, but the unpredictable weather always liked to tease people into thinking it was time to air out last year’s wool coats. She was sure it confused a lot of the transplants, but after more than ninety summers and falls, she knew what to expect.
Fall had always been her favorite time of year, the crunch of leaves reminding her of pulling out favorite sweaters and sitting in front of a roaring fire. Of her first kiss, right out there on the front porch, but only after Tom had made sure her daddy wasn’t looking.
It was Jimmy’s favorite time of year, too, when he would mark the flocks of birds flying from up north, some to stay, others just resting before taking off to parts farther south. Exotic places like South America and the Caribbean. Places Tom had promised he’d take her after the war, a plan to which she’d agreed but only if he promised he’d bring her back to their home in Sweet Apple. Back to where she knew each fall the weather would turn, the fields would lie fallow, and the crimson and russet leaves of the maples and black gum trees would fall and crunch under her feet. But the leaves of the live oaks that lined the drive would stay green. It was the one constancy she could always count on.
She began to type again, but stopped at the sound of banging on the front door. Maybe it was more like knocking, but it was so rare to have someone come to her house unannounced that it always sounded like banging to her.
She stood and went to the door, peering through the door’s windows to make sure it wasn’t one of those people asking her to buy something or here to save her soul. She didn’t need to buy anything—unless they were Girl Scouts selling cookies—and the state of her soul was between her and Jesus and was nobody else’s business.
It was Merilee, waiting patiently as Sugar made her way to the door, something cradled in her arms, her minivan parked behind her. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I need to ask you something.”
Sugar raised her eyebrows—or what was left of them. They had onc
e been golden blond, with arches Bette Davis would have envied. Now they were practically invisible, the pale white color having leached the gold away years before. “I thought you had my phone number now.”
Merilee extended her arms so Sugar could see the Mason jar in one hand and Jimmy’s binoculars in the other. “I found these on the porch. Colin’s denied it, but I’m assuming he took them, so I’m here to return them.”
Sugar opened the door wider but didn’t step forward to take either item. “He’s not lying. I left them on the porch for him. They’re not doing anybody any good sitting in that cedar chest, so they might as well go to good use. He can keep them.”
“You’re giving them to him?”
Sugar crossed her arms. “I am. Tell him to take care of them.”
“Well, thank you. After I apologize to him for believing him to be lying to me, I’ll have him thank you in person.”
“That’s fine,” Sugar said, waiting to close the door so she could go back to her typing, but Merilee didn’t appear to be done.
“I, uh, also have a favor to ask, if that’s all right.”
Sugar raised her nonexistent brows again. “Well, I guess I can’t stop you from asking, but that’s no guarantee I’ll say yes.”
A spark of humor flitted across Merilee’s gaze, causing Sugar to frown harder. It wouldn’t do to have people not fearing her.
“Yes, well, Heather has called an emergency meeting of all the gala committee heads tonight—as in thirty minutes from now, and I’m just hearing about it because I was at work all day. None of my babysitters or people I would normally call to watch the kids are available on such short notice—although one of them told me she could be here in an hour—and Michael is out of town on business. I would rather skin myself and swim in rubbing alcohol than ask Tammy.”
Sugar’s mouth twitched at the image. “And you’d like me to babysit.”
Merilee looked genuinely relieved. “It would just be for an hour or so—their old babysitter can make it here by then.”
“I see,” Sugar said. “And if I said no?”
“I could bring them with me, but Lily really needs to get to bed early and I have no idea how long I’ll be. But it’ll be easy—I promise. I’ve got Colin sitting in front of the TV watching a show about dogs, so he’s good to go for at least an hour. They’ve got my cell number, and I told them they could call for pizza. I left them a couple of twenties. Or I could bring them here so you don’t even have to leave your house . . .”
Sugar was already walking out onto the front porch. “Give me those,” she said, reaching for the jar and binoculars. “I’ll stay with them until your babysitter arrives, and make them a proper meal. Regardless of what the government is saying these days, pizza is not a vegetable.”
“Get in the minivan and I’ll drive you.”
“No need.” She held up her arm with the Fitbit. “I need my steps.” She began walking toward the cottage, hearing Merilee return to her minivan and start the engine only after she’d made it to Merilee’s front steps.
“Hello?” Sugar said after knocking, then opening the front door. She looked into the empty front room, where the TV screen was showing a litter of puppies nursing while a narrator in a sickly sweet voice was explaining what was going on. “It’s Miss Sugar. Your mama asked that I look in on you.” She waited for a response, and when none came she closed the door behind her and moved into the front room, placing the Mason jar and binoculars on the coffee table. “Your mama said I could use thumbscrews and red ants if needed, and the first young person who shows themselves will get to help me make cookies.”
A high-pitched giggle came from behind the sofa as Colin peered over the back. “I win!” he shouted.
“Nuh-uh,” Lily shouted from the kitchen doorway. “I was here first.”
“It’s a tie,” Sugar said. “So you both get to help me. But first we’re going to make a real dinner and you will be expected to eat your vegetables. Trust me, you will want to, because the way I prepare them is guaranteed to be unlike anything you’ve tried before.”
She ignored their groans as they trailed her back into the kitchen. “As long as we have fresh vegetables, we’re in business.” She had to restrain her own groan when she saw that the produce trays in the icebox were empty except for a soggy partial head of iceberg lettuce. And then she felt almost physically ill when she opened the pantry and noticed the name-brand cans of vegetables. She wasn’t sure what offended her the most—the fact that Merilee wasted her money buying the name brand, or that there wasn’t a fresh produce bag to be found either in the pantry or in the icebox. It was a travesty. With a deep breath, she pulled out a can of green beans and set to work, not even bothering to waste her time hunting for any fatback for the vegetables.
After they’d eaten and the cookies were in the oven, the phone rang. It was the babysitter, explaining she’d been in a fender bender and wouldn’t be able to make it. Glancing at her Bulova, Sugar figured she had enough time before Law & Order: SVU came on and that Merilee would, hopefully, be back by then. Because now that the necessities were done, she had no idea what else she was supposed to do with the children.
She looked down to find two pairs of blue eyes staring up at her expectantly. “Don’t you have homework?” she asked.
“I finished mine and Colin doesn’t have any,” Lily said. Colin just nodded, like he was used to having his older sister speak for him.
Sugar thought for a moment. “Maybe I can read you a story?”
Lily shook her head. “We don’t like the same kinds of books.” She frowned, then shared a conspiratorial glance with her brother. “But there’s one book . . .” Without waiting for comment, Lily ran down the short hallway toward the bedrooms, returning shortly with a large hardbound book that looked vaguely familiar.
“It’s Mom’s senior year high school yearbook from 1998.”
Sugar looked at her dubiously. “I thought your mother didn’t want you to look at these without her permission.”
“Oh, she changed her mind,” Lily said.
“Did she really?”
Lily nodded emphatically. “She said it was just a silly yearbook and there was no good reason to not let us see it.”
Colin nodded, his attention distracted by the sight of the jar and binoculars. “I didn’t steal those.”
“I know,” Sugar said gently. “They’re yours now—as a gift from me. I already explained to your mother that you didn’t take them.”
He grinned up at her. “So they’re mine? To keep?”
She nodded. “To keep. But I need you to promise me that you’ll take good care of them. They used to belong to somebody very precious to me.” She picked up the binoculars and placed the strap over his head so the glasses hung over his chest.
Colin nodded solemnly. “I will. Can I go look at birds now?” he said, the yearbook forgotten. “I promise to stay on the tire swing and not go anywhere else.”
“Sure. And let me know what you see.”
He ran toward the kitchen and the back door, not pausing long enough to put on shoes. Sugar figured that was something Merilee would need to address. Sort of like Sugar was the grandmother, whose only duty was to have fun with the children, leaving all the heavy responsibility of rearing the children to their mother. As it should be.
Lily tugged on her hand, leading her to the sofa, where they sat down together, the yearbook across their laps. Lily used a fingernail coated with chipped pink polish to open the front cover. “Look at all this writing from her friends. She must have been really popular when she was in high school.”
She said it with an air of reverence, and almost with disbelief, as if she couldn’t imagine her mother having so many friends. “Mom always says that being popular isn’t important. It’s being nice to everybody that’s important.” She frowned a little at the book op
ened on her lap. The inside of the book was indeed so full of signatures and little drawn hearts and stick drawings in all different colors of pens and markers that it was hard to find any white space. There were lots of Go Bulldogs and See you in Athens scribbled everywhere, like graffiti, in red and black, the colors of the University of Georgia.
It surprised Sugar. Most UGA grads had an overabundance of red and black among their household items—pot holders, bumper stickers, throw pillows. Maybe all that was in storage. Or maybe she hadn’t gone to UGA—although Sugar remembered the Realtor, Robin, mentioning that she’d graduated with Merilee from UGA but hadn’t known her well in their college years. Not that that was so surprising—UGA had around thirty thousand students, so it was more than possible to never cross paths with a fellow student, or to overlook a fellow student completely. Although, judging by the enthusiastic comments on these two pages, Merilee didn’t seem to have been the kind of person one might overlook.
“They all say ‘To Tallie,’” Lily pointed out. “Maybe this isn’t my mom’s.”
“No—look, there’s a few addressed to Merilee, although it appears those are from teachers or administrators. Her friends all used ‘Tallie.’ That must have been your mother’s nickname.”
“Maybe from her last name, Talbot. That was her last name before she got married to Daddy.”
Sugar nodded. “I think you’re right. You’re very smart, Lily.”
Lily blushed before turning the page and pausing. Only one person had signed this page, right in the middle, with a bold, black marker, and it appeared that this page had been reserved, a VIP seat at a crowded stadium. I love you, Tallie. Can’t wait to marry you. John.
“Who’s John?” Lily asked, her whole body recoiling. “My dad’s name is Michael.”
“Well, most likely John was an old high school boyfriend of your mother’s. Remember, a person usually graduates from high school when they’re only about seventeen or eighteen—still pretty young. It’s very rare these days that a girl marries her high school sweetheart—especially if she heads off to college and a career and meets other people.”