Sweet Tea and Secrets

by Nancy Naigle

  My life is good. Why is it bugging me so much that Garrett’s living the dream I left behind?

  A knock at the door brought her back from the daydream. She headed to the door and Clyde loped along behind her, his nails clicking at her heels.

  When she opened the door and saw Garrett, she felt a twist of emotion. Sentiment and sarcasm both floated among her thoughts.

  “Hey. How was your day?” Garrett stepped inside.

  “Funny you should ask.”

  “Why?”

  “Let me show you something.” She motioned for him to follow her.

  Clyde greeted him, nudging his nose under his hand.

  “What is around your neck, ole’ boy?” Garrett bent on one knee. “A big manly dog like this can’t wear a pink towel.” He scrubbed the dog’s ears. “Man, what’s she doin’ to my boy?”

  “Hey, he was slobbering on everything. The bib was a compromise.”

  “It’s emasculating,” Garrett said.

  Clyde barked in agreement.

  “See.” Garrett rubbed Clyde’s ears. “Women just don’t get it, do they Clyde?”

  “Oh please, do you want to see what I was going to show you or not?”

  Garrett nodded and followed her down the hall, muttering words of support to Clyde the whole way about the sissy crocheted towel hanging damp around the dog’s neck.

  When they reached Pearl’s bedroom, she gestured broadly in Vanna White style and stepped to the side so he could see the bed full of plaster. “Any questions?”

  “How about ‘what the hell happened here?’” He examined the gaping hole in the ceiling then looked at her. “Are you okay?”

  “I had to break my way through the ceiling from the attic.”

  “So I see.” He picked up a handful of plaster from the comforter. “You’re nothin’ but trouble since you came back.”

  “Someone closed and locked the door while I was up there. It got so hot I could barely breathe.”

  “Who? What happened?”

  “I’m not sure but, whoever it was, Clyde didn’t even bark at them.” She waited for a reaction, but didn’t get one. “I know you think Clyde is the smartest thing since Lassie, but even Clyde can’t deadbolt a door.”

  She saw the shock register on his face.

  “You don’t think I locked you in the attic?”

  “Well not exactly, but you tell me who could get by Sherlock here.” She patted Clyde’s head. She regretted slamming him, because she’d grown to love the huge dog already. He always reacted like he understood exactly what she was saying, and he always listened.

  “Maybe he did it as payback for the pink towel?”

  Jill shifted her weight and put her hand on her hip.

  “Okay, not funny. But seriously, you’ve got to know I’d be the last person on earth to ever hurt you.”

  “I just don’t know what to think any more. It’s been a wild few days. Who stole my safe and predictable hometown?” She sat on the edge of the bed, plaster falling from the quilt to the hardwood floor. “That attic door did not lock itself. Maybe the stars are aligned in some wacky way.”

  “You are turning out to be pretty high maintenance this week,” he agreed.

  “Not by choice.” Absentmindedly, she brushed plaster in a pile next to her on the bed. “So why are you here? To rescue me again?”

  “Can we talk about this attic thing first? We need to call Scott again.”

  “What’s he going to do? Let Allison practice dusting for prints again? I’m still cleaning up from the left last time. I had no idea that was such a messy process.”

  “You need to call this in,” he said.

  “I already did. Do you think I’m an idiot? He didn’t see anything either.”

  “Are you sure you were locked in? Maybe the door swelled in the heat.”

  She shook her head. “I’m sure. I tried, but I couldn’t get it open. After I crashed through Pearl’s bedroom ceiling I went upstairs. The bedroom door was shut, which Clyde couldn’t have done and still been in the room, and the attic door deadbolt was latched. That doesn’t happen by accident.”

  “Clyde never barked?”

  “Not until I started banging through the ceiling trying to get out.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Maybe Pearl is haunting you because you were mean to me,” he teased.

  She knew he was only half teasing because everyone knew how Pearl was when she set her mind to something. “That’s a more comforting option than thinking someone was trying to roast me.”

  “Joking aside, I’m staying here with you until we figure this out.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Don’t argue with me. Pearl would haunt me if I let anything happen to you.”

  “I don’t need protecting.” She brushed her bangs away from her face. “So why did you come by in the first place?”

  “I came to see if you had a chance to look at the blueprints I left.”

  “I did. They’re awesome,” her lips eased into a grin. “You’re living your dream.”

  “With a few of your ideas.”

  “That didn’t go unnoticed.” She glanced his way feeling a little smug.

  “You and I once shared that dream.”

  Jill really didn’t want to go there with him. She’d already thought about those dreams enough for one day. “So-oo,” she eased back on the bed and pointed toward the hole in the ceiling, “Do you think you could repair that?” She raised a brow hoping he’d go along with the change in subject. “I don’t think I could easily sell this place with a hole in the ceiling.”

  “Sell?”

  “Yeah. What else would I do with this place?”

  “Live here maybe?”

  “My life is in Savannah now.”

  “You can’t sell this place.”

  “It’s a great piece of property. I’m sure someone would love raising a family here.”

  “I don’t think you should make any plans yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “You haven’t talked to Connor yet, have you?”

  She sat up, leaning on her elbows. “No. Milly mentioned something about him, too. What’s that all about? ”

  Garrett shifted uncomfortably. “You should call him.”

  “What? What is it that you think you know that I don’t?” He avoided eye contact and that made her nervous.

  “Call Connor,” he said.

  “Garrett. Tell me,” she said sternly. She sat up straight and crossed her arms.

  He didn’t answer.

  “I’m not kidding around here. What’s going on?”

  “Pearl didn’t leave everything to you,” he said. “She left the land, the house, to both of us. You and me.”

  “She did not,” she laughed.

  “Seriously.”

  She noted his clamped jaw and fixed eyes. He wasn’t kidding, and that realization came like a left jab to her reality check. “Why the heck would Pearl do that?” She fought to keep her cool.

  “She only told me because I was trying to get her to sell me the property since it snugs up to the other parcel I own, but she wouldn’t. I think she told me the terms of the will to keep me from bugging her about selling me the land.”

  “Quit kidding around.”

  “She believed in us. Her actions make sense, in a Pearl sort of way.”

  “Good lord, what self-serving brainwashing did you do on my grandmother?”

  “Pearl had her own mind. I don’t think anyone could brainwash her. She wanted us to be together. Is that so awful?”

  “Well, she can’t do that. She can’t just make us be together.”

  “No, but she can split up her property.”

  Realization flashed. Jill pushed past Garrett and dashed to the blueprints on the dining room table. She flipped straight to the last sheet, the one with the plat. “It is.” She slammed her hand in the middle of the plat and spun around to f
ace him. “You’re planning to build your great neighborhood on this property, aren’t you?”

  “Not phase one. I already own that property. I bought that last year. Pearl liked the idea of being a part of our dream.”

  “Well, then she was demented. No wonder you were so helpful around here. You were manipulating her.”

  “You know that’s not true.”

  Her anger spiked, and her heart picked up pace. “I know no such thing. Who did you sweet talk the rest of the land out of?”

  He stood silent.

  “I was so impressed with you making your dreams come true. I had no idea you’d stooped to stealing from elderly women.”

  He snatched his plans off the table and noisily twisted them back into a tight roll. “I’m out of here. Call me when you get your wits back about you.”

  Grabbing the edge of the front door, he leaned back inside to get the last word in. “You know. The way I see it, if you can live with Bradley Kase, you can live with anybody. And what’s so damn bad about the thought of living on property next door to mine. It’s not like you have to live with me. We had a pretty good thing once. You’d think we could at least be friends.”

  “Eeaarrgh”, she growled, hurling a silk flower arrangement in his direction. “You arrogant...” Hiccup.

  The arrangement bounced off his chest before he could turn and head to his truck.

  She raced toward the door and slammed it behind him.

  Clyde let out a loud woof.

  “Now you speak up.” She swatted his tail as he wagged it excitedly, and retrieved the dusty silk flowers.

  Jill grabbed her cell phone off the table and dialed Carolanne’s number, but the call ended up going to voice mail. Between hiccups, she left a message.

  What else could she do?

  Jill settled on taking Clyde out back. She sat in the swing and rubbed Clyde’s back with her foot with each rocking motion. It was a wonder the dog had any fur at all with as much petting as he demanded.

  Milly had told her to get in touch with Connor when she saw her at the post office. It had seemed ridiculous at the time. Since Jill was the only relative, she’d assumed this place was hers to do with as she liked. A normal assumption. At least Bradley had thought so. He was already pushing her to pack up and sell the place to see what investment dollars they could get out of the sale of the house to reinvest in one of his other hot projects.

  Anxious to get to the bottom of this Connor business now, Jill went inside to look up his number. She’d never known Connor all that well. He was more Carolanne’s friend. They’d both attended UVA to earn their law degrees.

  In Pearl’s standard filing technique, she found the number under C for Connor.

  Jill dialed the phone and waited.

  “Connor Buckham here.”

  “Hi, Connor. This is Jill Clemmons.”

  “Jill? Hey there. I was so sorry to hear about Pearl. I was in Chicago on business.”

  I bet, probably monkey business with the rich city girl. “Thank you,” she said shaking the wayward thought of him with a society girl in his arms.

  “I wondered when you’d get around to calling. I was going to stop by and see you this afternoon. I thought maybe Milly forgot to pass the message along.”

  “No, she didn’t forget. I didn’t think it was urgent.”

  “Ahh.”

  “Is it? A hurry, I mean?”

  “Well, no, but no reason to wait either. How about we get together and chat Friday afternoon?”

  Jill could hear a squeak on the other end of the phone. She could picture Connor leaning back in his chair.

  “I’m leaving Friday to go back to Savannah. Can’t we get together sooner?” She was anxious to get this business behind her. Technically, she could leave later in the day and get back to Savannah in time for the Independence Ball with Bradley.

  “How about you and Garrett come in the morning on Friday? Say about nine?”

  “Garrett and I? Why would we want to do that? He’s acting like he knows everything already. He says we own Pearl’s property together. Is that true?”

  “Not exactly. Well, maybe sort of. You know, I have all the legalese here. Everything will be clear when we discuss the conditions of the will. I also have a video Pearl made for the two of you.”

  “A video?”

  “Yeah. After fifteen retakes she was quite the actress. Why don’t y’all come and see what Pearl has to say about it.”

  “This is ridiculous.”

  “These are Pearl’s last wishes, Jill.”

  “Fine. Got it. We’ll be there.” Jill had no idea how she was going to control Garrett’s schedule, but she’d find a way so they could get this settled. Garrett’s cell phone number was on Pearl’s short list by the hall phone. She punched in the number, but breathed a sigh of relief when her call went to voice mail. She left him a message about their appointment on Friday.

  Feeling oddly insecure all of a sudden, she locked the front door and pushed a chair in front of it. She grabbed a screwdriver and a hammer out of the bottom drawer of the pie safe in the kitchen and headed for the stairs.

  Chapter Ten

  “Come on, Clyde. We’re going to give this another go of it. This time we’ll have a secondary escape route.” Jill opened the upstairs bedroom door, then shoved the dresser in front of it. No one could close the door without making some serious noise.

  She hammered the pins out of the hinges of the attic door and leaned it against the closet wall. “No one can lock us in now, can they Clyde?”

  Clyde sprawled out in the floor of the closet, his chin flat on the floor between his paws. Dust bunnies chased back and forth as his tail swept the wood.

  Jill headed back into the attic space. The hole in the floor over Pearl’s room added a little light. That was helpful. She walked over to the chest she’d spotted before. She moved the cardboard boxes from the top and then brushed off the lid with her hand. Years of dust had accumulated and there were cardboard pieces scattered around, probably from mice.

  The smell of cedar hit her as soon as she pushed back the heavy lid of the huge chest. The contents were lean, only three white stationery boxes. A delicate ribbon, probably blue at one time, secured each box. Even with the door off the hinges, the attic felt a little creepy so she picked up the top box and headed back downstairs.

  She stopped long enough to let Clyde out back and then set about boiling some water to make some sweet tea just like Pearl used to make.

  Jill sat back down at the kitchen table and tugged the ribbon that secured the box. She gently lifted the top to see what was inside.

  Letters. Lots of them.

  She flipped through the stack. The letters spanned a two-year period, in order, starting in 1943. The same masculine print addressed each letter, but the postmarks were from all over the world including exotic places like Tahiti, the Cook Islands, Japan and others she couldn’t decipher. No return address.

  She did the math in her head. These letters dated back to just a couple years before her dad was born.

  Jill opened the top envelope and slid out the contents. The paper was thick, considered fine even by today’s standards. The letter was short, but the longing of lovers separated by distance was clear. The letter was signed, “With all my love, John Carlo.” John Carlo had beautiful penmanship, but the ‘40s were a more formal time.

  Jill had taken a handwriting analysis class right after college. No one in Adams Grove had been safe from her analysis that year. She’d examined the handwriting of just about everyone in town, and it was almost scary how dead-on the readings were.

  She held the letter and tried to recall the old skill. The tall upper strokes of the letter L and H in John Carlo’s words meant he would reach for his goals. The narrow spacing between words meant that he wanted to be close to her, well Pearl in this case. Jill hadn’t thought about those handwriting theories in a long while. Her skills were rusty, but she was pretty sure those old hand
writing analysis books were still on the bookshelf downstairs.

  It was hard for Jill to imagine Pearl in love. Jill felt a little guilty reading these private letters and dipping into Pearl’s most private moments, but she couldn’t bring herself to put them away. Recollections of weekends that her grandmother had spent with John Carlo were filled with sentiments of their ecstasy while together and the heartache of being apart.

  “I still feel the warmth of your embrace, your mouth on mine, every detail of your face and the curve of your hip,” John Carlo had written. “The mere thought of you sends a warm shiver through me. I yearn to be near you. Will you wait for me?”

  Jill picked out the next one off the stack to read. The letters opened up a whole new side of Pearl that she’d never known.

  Jill read the closing on this short note.

  “Inez. You are my pearl, my treasure, my world,” he had said.

  She knew her grandmother’s birth name was Inez, but she’d never thought to ask how they’d come to call her Pearl. After about a dozen letters, John Carlo had begun addressing the love letters to her as Pearl.

  Then the series of notes changed. Next in the stack were letters that Pearl had sent to John Carlo, and he had responded in the margins. Jill leaned in toward the letter, wanting to feel closer to Pearl, to John Carlo, to their endearing love. These letters were the best because she got both sides of the story. It was in these letters that her grandmother began signing her notes Pearl.

  “I love you,” Pearl had written.

  “More than life, my dear,” he’d written in the margin.

  “I’m set to meet you off the cape as we planned on the 19th,” Pearl had continued.

  “I’m counting the moments until I have you in my arms. I’ll be waiting. I have a special gift for you,” he’d written.

  “I pray for your safe arrival. I will wait as long as it takes for you to get there,” wrote Pearl.

  “I’ll never let you down, my love.” He’d signed it JCP with a heart next to it.

  Jill held the note close to her heart, happy to know that Pearl had known such a true love. Pearl had said she was going to tell her the love story of all love stories. This had to be what she’d been talking about. No wonder Pearl was such a romantic. Jill swept away a tear and tucked the letter back in the stack.