Isle of Hope

by Julie Lessman

  Lacey unloaded another grunt. “Yeah, right, and I have peach on my face after he slams the door.” She peered up at Mamaw, eyes in a squint. “Do you ever talk to him anymore?”

  “Oh, heavens no—he’s far too bitter for that. You’re not the only one he cut out of his life when your mother betrayed him, you know.” She rose from the table, cup in hand. “Not that I didn’t try, mind you. I called and wrote letters till I thought he’d get a restraining order, even after he asked me to leave him alone. I finally let it go a few years back except for the standard cards—you know, Christmas, birthday …” She paused, a definite twinkle in her eye. “Father’s Day.”

  “No ...” A slow grin traveled Lacey’s lips. “You don’t.” She chuckled. “Ouch. I’ll bet that burns.”

  Mamaw jutted her chin, lips pursed in a stubborn smile. “I certainly hope so. Somebody needs to light a fire under that bull-headed pup.” She rose to fetch more coffee, glancing over her shoulder with an imp of a grin. “And it’s better than a propane torch.” She nodded toward Lacey’s half-empty cup. “Need a refill or warm-up before I serve up our dinner? Pot roast and vegetables, just as you like it, and it’s all ours since Nicki and Spence already ate.”

  Lacey’s mouth watered at the mere mention of Mamaw’s signature Sunday dish. “No on the coffee, but the pot roast sounds heavenly,” she said, a giggle slipping from her lips. “And as far as Daddy’s concerned, Mamaw, I’d hardly call forty-six a ‘pup.’”

  “It is when you act like a child. Humph—and him one of the top cardiac surgeons in the country—ha!”

  Lacey’s smile faded as she wandered into a faraway stare. “I feel sorry for him,” she whispered. And for herself too—a virtual orphan at twenty-six. She snapped out of it with a loud huff, mouth canting into a dry smile. “Which just goes to show how much I’ve changed. Up until six months ago, I wanted to see the man take a long walk off a short pier. After I filed a suit for emotional malpractice.”

  Mamaw chuckled. “Well, it’s a suit you would win, that’s for sure.” Placing her cup on the table, she settled back in her chair, the smell of hazelnut wafting through the air. She took a sip while giving Lacey a wink over the rim. “And trust me, darlin’—all lawyer fees would be on me.”

  Chapter Four

  Lacey nosed her Honda into the last spot in the parking lot of the Paulson Complex, eyes scanning the various fields for any sign of Spence. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she got out and shielded her eyes, a smile skimming her lips when she spotted him playing in the dirt with some other kid. With a quick glance at her watch, she made her way to his field where it looked like practice had just ended, kids and parents milling about.

  “Lacey!” Spencer hopped up and bolted towards her, grabbing her hand to tug her over to his friend who was still playing on the dusty field. Although his smile remained shy, Spence’s hazel eyes sparkled like topaz. “Meet my new friend, Mack Hartford,” he said, voice breathless.

  “Why, hello, Mack—I’m Lacey, and it’s so very nice to meet you.” Lacey bent to offer her hand to a little boy who sported more freckles than Spencer. Sitting cross-legged in the dirt with an action figure in hand, Mack grinned, his sky-blue eyes a perfect complement to red hair spiky with sweat. “Hi, Lacey.”

  “And guess what?” Spence said to Mack, his rush of excitement so rare, emotion thickened in Lacey’s throat. “Lacey was a champion pitcher, and she’s gonna hit me some grounders tonight.” Pride gleamed in his eyes, giving Lacey a warm glow. Plopping down in the dirt next to Mack, he swooped up his own action figure, settling in as if he and Mack intended to camp out.

  “You bet, bud, but first things first.” Lacey shot a quick glance at the field to make sure practice was actually over, satisfied when she spotted several men packing bats and other gear in an equipment bag. She squatted down, a smile teasing the edge of her lips. “First we have to buy you an Oreo Overload at Coldstone, right?”

  “Yeah!” Spencer shouted, vaulting into the air like a fly ball. “Can Mack come, Lace, please, please?”

  “Well, sure,” she said with a scan of several scattered groups on the field. “But we’ll need to check with his mom or dad first, then we can take him home after, okay?” She tousled Mack’s hair. “That all right with you, sport?”

  “Yes, ma’am!” Mack said with equal enthusiasm, flashing Spencer a crooked grin.

  “Sounds like a plan.” She peered up at the few remaining people standing around. “So, Mack—where are your parents?”

  “They’re not here,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone, swooping his action figure through the air as he jumped to his feet. “Coach Mehl always takes me to practice ’cause I’m on his way home, so I’ll just ask him if it’s okay.” He darted toward two men chatting by the bleachers, one of them with the equipment bag strung over his shoulder.

  Lacey grinned as she watched Mack hop up and down in apparent excitement, hands folded in a plea while the coach glanced Lacey’s way. She rose and tugged on her short-shorts in an effort to lengthen then, then hurried over just as the other man left.

  “Can I, Coach, please, please?” Dancing foot to foot, Mack twitched with anticipation, giving Lacey second thoughts about pumping sugar into his bloodstream.

  She extended a hand and a warm smile. “Hi—Coach Mehl, I presume? I’m Spencer’s cousin, Lacey Carmichael.”

  Smile lines appeared in the tan face of a stocky man she guessed to be in his forties, his return grip as strong as the muscles cording his arms. “Lee Mehl, Miss Carmichael.” He shifted the bag on his shoulder while his gaze flicked to Spencer and back, his eyes softening enough for her to notice. “We’re glad to have Spence on our team—he’s a great kid.” He tweaked the back of Mack’s neck with a broad grin. “And I’ve never seen any kids hit it off faster than these two Power Ranger pals, that’s for sure, eh Ranger Mack?”

  “Yes, sir,” Mack said. “So can I, Mr. Mehl, please?”

  “I don’t see why not,” he said with a wink at Mack before the boy dashed off to rejoin Spence.

  Lacey exhaled a silent sigh of relief. “Thanks, Mr. Mehl. I can’t tell you how much this means to Spence—and to his grandmother, sister, and me.” She shot a glance over her shoulder, battling the sudden prick of tears in her eyes. “He’s had some difficulty making friends.”

  “Call me Lee, please, and Spence’s grandmother already filled me in on the problems he’s been having, so I’m thrilled to see the boys get along.” He glanced at his watch. “How ’bout I tell ‘Ranger Mack’s’ mom you’ll bring him home after ice cream, all right? He lives on Bluff Drive.”

  Bluff Drive? Lacey gulped, the mention of her old street shrinking her rib cage. She deflected her sudden unease with a bright smile. “Absolutely, Lee, and please—call me Lacey. We’re just going to Coldstone, so you can tell her forty-five minutes tops, okay?”

  “Sounds good, Lacey. Have fun.” Hoisting the bag higher on his shoulder, Lee offered a wave on his way to his car.

  Fun? Yeah, well maybe at Coldstone, but after? A chill slithered Lacey’s spine, icier than the ice cream in Coldstone’s freezer. She ushered the boys to the car, oblivious to their nonstop chatter as her thoughts returned to the street she’d grown up on. Hands pinched on the steering wheel of her car, she peered up at a pastel sky just edging toward dusk. Uh, I’ve been in town all of three hours—don’t you think it’s a liiiiittle too soon for a stroll down memory lane?

  Apparently not because here she was forty-five minutes later—inching her way down her father’s street, heart racing while her breathing skidded to a stop. Memories rushed in like the tide on the shore, swelling her throat over forgotten games of hopscotch and foursquare and sardine’s ghost after dark. Stately oaks bowed over a meandering drive in a gracious canopy dance, gnarled limbs casting shadows of lace on faded asphalt while Spanish moss swayed in the breeze. Two pig-tailed little girls sped by on pink Barbie bikes. Their giggles merged with the summer sounds of whispering pin
es and rustling palms, all laced with the squawk of seabirds and the buzz of boat engines from the shore on the other side of the street.

  “Which house, Mack?” she said with a frog in her throat, silently praying he lived on the other end of Bluff Drive rather than where her father lived. And the best friend and ex-boyfriend she’d dumped without so much as a goodbye …

  “Next block,” he said, wrestling in the backseat with Spence like they’d been best friends forever. She swallowed the frog. Like Cat and I used to be …

  “What’s the address?” she asked, voice hoarse.

  “Thirty Bluff Drive. It’s the house with pink roses in front of the white fence.”

  Of course it is. Lacey gulped, fighting the rise of Oreo Overload. Apparently the Hartfords bought Jack and Cat’s old house—her home away from home. Her eyelids flickered as a wave of dizziness hit hard. Right next to her father’s. Sucking in a sharp breath, she slowly pulled up to Mack’s curb. Her gaze instantly darted to her father’s house on the other side of an eight-foot Japanese privet hedge that hadn’t been there when she’d left.

  “Wait—I want Spence to meet my brother,” Mack said, already out of the car and sprinting down the red paver driveway toward the back of the house where laughter and the clunk of a basketball could be heard.

  Lacey slipped Spence a wary smile over her shoulder, dead-set on hiding out in the car. “Hey bud, why don’t you run and meet Mack’s brother real quick, then hurry back so we can get going, okay?”

  “Uh … sure,” he said quietly, obviously not anymore eager to meet someone new than Lacey. She heard his heavy exhale before he grappled with the door, taking his sweet time to get out of the car.

  Lacey’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. Come on, Spence, move it before somebody—

  A low groan scraped past her lips when Mack came barreling around the corner with an entourage in tow. Whoops … too late. Straightening her halter top, Lacey eased out of the car, giving the ol’ cutoffs another firm modesty tug as she flashed a smile toward Mack and his family. “Hello, I’m—”

  Gonna keel over right here, right now. Lacey gasped, an interesting mix of shock and nausea snatching all air—and sound—from her throat as she stared at Jack and his family, who apparently were as speechless as she. Warding off the urge to hyperventilate, she pried the words from her tongue, voice cracking in the process. “Uh … uh … I d-don’t understand … M-Mack lives here?”

  “Mack?” Jack was the first to speak, eyes narrowing considerably.

  “Yeah, Mack Hartford,” Spence said with a nod at his new friend, the crunch of his brows indicating this was something everybody should already know. “You know, Davey’s Power Ranger name?”

  A sliver of a smile tipped Mrs. O’Bryen’s lips once the daze left her eyes. “Ah … I see, and Spencer here is the butler, I presume?” she said slowly, hooking an arm around Spencer’s shoulder. Her soft gaze met Lacey’s, the sparkle of humor unable to mask the depth of emotion in her eyes. “Operation Overdrive,” she explained with a dip of her head, “Davey’s current obsession with Power Rangers. His favorite happens to be the red Overdrive Power Ranger, you know—otherwise known as ‘Mack Hartford.’”

  Of course it is. Lacey’s smile compressed to restrain the silent groan climbing her throat.

  “Yeah, and Spence is my loyal butler Spencer who gives me advice,” Davey said, head in a tilt that said anybody with half a brain should know that.

  Heat crawled up Lacey’s neck. Well, that pretty much describes me …

  Spade in hand, Mrs. O’Bryen wiped her free hand against her gardening jeans before giving Lacey an awkward hug while Spence and Mack swooped action figures over each post of the white picket fence. “How are you, Lacey? It’s been a long time,” she said softly, her warm smile like the sun compared to the scowls on Jack’s and Cat’s faces.

  “Yes, ma’am, it has,” she whispered, terrified to take her eyes off of Jack’s mother.

  A lump shifted in her throat as Shannon approached, the gentleness in her eyes a balm to Lacey’s soul. “We’ve missed you, Lace,” she said quietly, hesitating for only a moment before offering a hug that immediately produced a sting of tears in Lacey’s eyes.

  With halting arms, Lacey returned her embrace, squeezing her lids shut in a sad attempt to ward off the moisture that pooled beneath. “I’ve missed you too,” she whispered, her frail words breaking on a heave.

  Lacey jolted when Mrs. O’Bryen’s arm cradled her waist. “Come in for a cup of coffee,” she said, her words as tender as her touch. “As luck would have it, I just happen to have a fresh batch of monster cookies—your favorite, as I recall.”

  Shannon’s giggle brushed against Lacey’s hair before the twin pulled from their embrace. “And trust me—‘luck’ doesn’t have it very often in this house, so you best take advantage.”

  Take advantage. Lacey silently cringed as she stole a peek out of the corner of her eye at Jack and Cat, the two people whose friendship she’d certainly taken advantage of … right before she turned her back on them both. But this was what she’d hoped for—prayed for—wasn’t it? Restoration of relationship with the people she loved. Unfortunately the stony looks of two of them shrank her rib cage considerably, depleting her air. “Uh … actually, Mrs. O’Bryen, I just arrived today, so my grandmother is expecting Spence and me home any moment. Maybe another time?”

  “Let’s hope not,” Cat mumbled, whirling on her heel to stalk back into the house before her mother could correct her.

  Mrs. O’Bryen gently cupped Lacey’s waist. “Don’t let Catherine’s sour attitude put you off, Lacey—she’s just hurt inside, which is all the more reason we need to get together soon, to talk … and to heal.”

  “Come on, Davey,” Jack said, “we’re playing horse, and I’ve got HORS.” His gaze shifted to Spence with a crooked smile, ignoring Lacey altogether as he lowered to a squat. “Nice to meet you, Spence. Maybe you can play with us next time, okay?” Jack raised his hand to give him a high-five.

  “Cool.” Spence’s wide smile was in total contrast to his usual shy personality, reminding Lacey just how much of a magnet Jack had always been with kids, making them feel special. He slapped Jack’s palm, and then Davey’s too, eyes aglow with the much-needed attention of an older male. “Maybe after next practice,” he volunteered, shooting a hopeful look Lacey’s way.

  “Maybe,” Lacey said with a slow nod, following Jack’s lead in avoiding his gaze.

  “Sweet.” Jack gave Spence a wink before smiling at Davey. He turned to amble down the driveway, ignoring Lacey without another word.

  Her heart cramped as she watched him walk away.

  A delicate sigh drifted from Mrs. O’Bryen’s lips before she squeezed Lacey in another hug. “I know it looks scary, Lacey, but promise you’ll come back. We all need to forgive and forget.” She pulled away with a tender gaze, hands still braced to Lacey’s arms. “We need you in our lives again, sweetheart, and I think you need us too.”

  Emotion crowded Lacey’s throat, Mrs. O’Bryen’s words echoing deep in her heart.

  If you do not forgive others, then your Father will not forgive your transgressions.

  Her eyes flickered closed with the point-blank reminder that this was the real reason she was in Isle of Hope.

  She needed their forgiveness. And from the knowing look in Mrs. O’Bryen’s gaze, apparently her son and daughter needed it too.

  With a shaky nod, she managed a weak smile. “I promise,” she whispered, drawing strength from the compassion that radiated from Jack’s mother and sister. “Soon.”

  “Good girl.” Mrs. O’Bryen patted her arms and stepped away, casting a glance at her son and his new friend as they rolled and wrestled on the lawn. “David Montgomery O’Bryen—introducing your new friend to fleas and chiggers is not proper hospitality.” She clapped her hands, voice raised an octave. “Spencer needs to head home, young man, and you need to head into the shower after one gam
e of horse.”

  Davey froze on the lawn like a dead June bug, legs bent in the air. “But I just took a shower before practice,” he moaned, the pain in his voice tipping Lacey’s lips into a smile.

  “Yes, but all the dirt and bugs crawling on you did not.”

  Lacey opened her car door and lifted her chin. “Come on, Spence—Mamaw’s probably wondering where we are.”

  Spencer sat up on the grass, a crease between his brows. “But we can come back another time, right, Lacey? Or Mack can come to our house soon?”

  “You bet, bud—next practice, okay?”

  “Okay.” Popping to his feet, he shot a shy grin at Davey over his shoulder as he trudged to the car. “Bye, Mack—see you at practice.”

  Mrs. O’Bryen and Shannon joined Davey at the curb, each with a hand on his shoulder as they stood on either side. “Next week after practice would be good, Lacey, if it works for you,” Jack’s mother called, a gentle authority in her tone.

  Lacey paused to stare over the roof of the Honda, one foot in the car. “We’ll be here, Mrs. O’Bryen, God willing.” Sliding in, she closed the door and clutched the steering wheel with clammy hands.

  A slow smile eased across Jack’s mother’s face, a bookend reflection of Shannon’s. “He does, sweetheart,” she said, her face practically aglow with hope. “And it’s Tess now—we’re both grown women, destined to be good friends, you hear?” A sudden sheen of tears glimmered in her eyes. “Because it’s time, sweetheart.”

  With a jerky nod, Lacey turned the ignition key, glancing at Spence in the next seat to make sure he was buckled. A slow, reedy breath escaped when she pulled away while Spence waved wildly out the window of the car.

  No question about it—it was time, indeed.

  Time to deal with the past.

  Time to face her demons.

  And God help her, she thought with a queasy roll of her stomach.