Savannah Mae: It so happens that I’m in Florida and I would love to see you.
Brea: What? Now? You’re in Florida right now!
Her excitement makes me giggle.
Savannah Mae: Yes. Right now. The trip was sorta last minute. We’ll be here for a week or two.
I hope.
Brea: Yay. Sara will be so excited to see you. What are you doing tonight?
Savannah Mae: Nothin’ that I know of.
I hope not anyway.
Brea: Do you want to have dinner?
Savannah Mae: Yes, it sounds great,
Brea: Good. There’s a kid-friendly restaurant we can go to. I’ll text you the address and a time. It’s been far too long.
Savannah Mae: Yes, it has. We’ll see you tonight.
Brea: Did you bring Abel with you?
More like he brought me.
Savannah Mae: I did.
Brea: Can’t wait to see him. Gotta go, but I’ll see you guys later. xoxo
Savannah Mae: Later. xoxo
I peek in Sawyer Jackson’s room to see if he’s there. He isn’t. I wash my face and brush my teeth before headin’ downstairs to join everyone. I’m surprised to find the kitchen and family room empty. It’s a big house and they could be in any of the many other rooms. After I get a mug of coffee and a piece of bacon from the counter, I walk outside in the direction of music. Once outside, I see Sawyer Jackson and Abel Lee in the pool. There’s music playin’ from the ceilin’ speakers in the outdoor area. This house really does have everything. I watch them play and splash each other before they notice me watchin’. Sawyer Jackson can’t swim, so they stay close to the steps leadin’ into the water.
“Yay, Momma’s awake.”
“You should have woken me.”
Abel Lee puts Sawyer Jackson on his back and walks over to the edge of the pool nearest me. “We wanted you to sleep.”
I wipe the sweat from my brow. It’s already hot out. “I thought we were goin’ to the boxin’ ring this mornin’?”
“I called Grether and he said we can come anytime. His wife, Leah, owns the bookstore next door, so we should take Sawyer Jackson in for storytime.”
“That’ll be nice.”
“He said storytime starts at 1:00.”
“Yay, storytime.”
Abel Lee lowers himself in the pool to wet his shoulders. “Do you still want to learn to box?”
I have no desire to learn to fight. Will he be upset with me if I say no? I’m about to find out. “No, not really. I don’t really care to do that. I just said that because I thought it would ease your mind.”
“I figured as much. Would you mind if I hung out in the ring while you two go to the story time? It’s a coffee shop, bakery, and bookstore combined.”
I wipe the sweat from my brow again. “No, I don’t mind.” I remember the text with Brea. I step out of the sun and into the shade. “My friend lives in Sarasota, and she invited us to dinner tonight. Do you think we could go?”
“I think it sounds like a great idea.” He looks back at Sawyer Jackson. “Do you want to go to dinner tonight, Buddy? We can meet some of your momma’s friends.”
“They got kids?” he asks.
“She has a little boy named Arturo.”
“Okay. Momma, come swimmin’ with us.”
That sounds like a great idea. It’s too hot to just be standin’ out here. “Okay, just give me a minute.” I look at Abel Lee, who is wettin’ his shoulders again. Sawyer Jackson is still hangin’ onto his back. “Did you guys use sunscreen?”
“We did, but it might need reapplied.”
“I think so. Not you so much, but Sawyer Jackson’s lookin’ a little pink.”
I walk into the house and dump the hot coffee down the sink. It’s too hot outside to drink a hot beverage. It must be in the high 80’s already this mornin’. I reach into the refrigerator for an ice water instead.
We pull up into the shoppin’ center just before 12:30. The sign over the coffee shop says, Jamie, Madison, and Grace’s Cozy Corner: Books, Coffee, & Sweets. It’s Your One-Stop Shop. “Oh, how cute.” The sign over the trainin’ center says, Jamie, Madison, and Grace’s Dad’s Warrior Fitness and Training. “That’s cute, too. They have three daughters?”
“Their story is a bit long and complicated.” He parks the car and says, “Jamie was actually their daughter who sadly died in a car accident when she was about three.”
I put my hand over my heart. “Omigod. I’m so sorry.”
“Me, too. After a few years, they learned that their only daughter, Jamie, was actually switched at birth.” I watch intently. “To make a long story short, Jamie wasn’t their biological child. Madison was the baby she was switched with.” He points to the names on the sign.
“How can that be?”
“I have no idea how something like that happens. Fast forward a year and some months, they have joint custody of Madison and they also have another daughter, Gracie.”
“What happened to the other set of parents? They probably aren’t very happy with all of this.”
“From what I understand, they all get along. Everything worked out very well for everyone.”
“You couldn’t write a book about something like that.”
He looks confused. “What do you mean?”
“That isn’t even believable. It’s crazy to think that kids still get switched at birth. How can that even happen?”
“I have no idea.” He turns the car off and says, “You ready to meet Bobby and Leah?”
“Bobby? I thought we were meetin’ someone called Grether?”
“It’s the same person. As a boxer, I call him by his last name; as a friend, I call him by his first name.”
“He’s the one you lost the championship fight to?”
“He is. He was training for the fight while all of this was going on.”
I look at the sign again. “That’s incredible.”
“He is. Come in, I want you to meet him.”
We walk into the fitness and trainin’ center; it stinks of sweat. It’s busy. The ring is empty, but a few guys are usin’ punchin’ bags in the corner of the room. I hold Sawyer Jackson’s hand, and we admire all of the posters on the wall. The posters are of boxers, famous fighters. “Look, there’s even one of you,” I whisper to Abel Lee.
He doesn’t answer before Sawyer Jackson and I walk over to get a closer look. “Momma, look. It’s Abel Lee and Rocky.”
I look to where Sawyer Jackson is pointin’. My eyes get big. “Omigod. You got your picture taken with Rocky.”
“This was taken right before I met you. They held a benefit to raise money for breast cancer. Leah, Bobby’s wife, contacted professional boxers to come down for the grand opening/fundraiser. Sylvester Stallone was the only fictional boxer there. He’s Bobby’s idol.”
“Abel, how are you?”
I look in the direction of a man’s deep voice. Walkin’ towards Abel Lee is a big man who must be Bobby Grether. A petite woman is walkin’ beside him and smilin’.
They shake hands and Abel Lee introduces Sawyer Jackson and me to everyone.
“Sawyer Jackson, we’re getting ready to have storytime if you want to come over.” Leah has a very kind smile that matches her voice.
“I like books. Thank you.”
“Good. Abel, I hear you’re going to spar with Robert in the ring.”
“I thought I would.”
“Remember, boys, it’s for fun.”
“I’ll remember that. My professional boxing days are over, Leah. This is strictly for fun.”
“Good, glad to hear it.” She smiles before looking at her husband. “Robert? Play nice.”
“Whatever you say, Leah.” He laughs.
“Are you ready to go, Sawyer Jackson? We don’t want to miss the beginning of the story.”
“Yep, I’m ready. Who’s reading the story?” he asks. I have no idea why he cares. He isn’t gonna know them.
&nbs
p; “My daughter’s other mother.”
“Huh?” he asks, confused.
“C’mon, it’s a long story. You’ll like Chelsea, she’s nice.”
I kiss Abel Lee and walk the short distance to the bookstore with Leah and Sawyer Jackson. She holds Sawyer Jackson’s hand, as I hold his other one. I guess everything Abel Lee said about the baby swap workin’ out is true. I have no idea how two families can come together in such a sad situation.
We walk into the bookstore and it smells delicious, the result of havin’ a bake shop on the premises. “This place smells so much better than my husband’s place,” Leah says.
I have to agree. It’s like she read my mind. The second thing that I notice after the smell are the large 11x14-inch pictures hangin’ up on the wall. Three little girls and a little boy. I try to remember Abel Lee mentionin’ if they have a son. I don’t recall. About ten small children are sittin’ on the floor, surroundin’ an older woman who sits on a child-sized wooden chair. “Chelsea must be running late. Jo’s getting ready to start reading if you want to have a seat on a bean bag chair,” she says to Sawyer Jackson. I stand near and watch as Sawyer Jackson sits on the chair. The older woman notices ’im and smiles sweetly.
“Let’s get a coffee and a cinnamon roll before we join them,” Leah says.
“Okay, sounds good.”
“I was hoping to introduce you to Chelsea. She’s a sweetheart.”
A little girl with black curls runs out of the back room. Leah says, “Gracie, you’re going to miss story time if you don’t hurry.”
She carries a little doll with black curly hair in one hand, and a sippy cup in the other. I recognize her from a photo hangin’ on the wall. She’s a mix of Leah and her husband.
“I hurry.”
“That’s our daughter, Gracie.”
“She’s darlin’,”
“Thank you, we think so, too.”
Leah watches until Gracie finds a seat on the floor beside Sawyer Jackson. Following her to the self-serve coffee station, she says, “Help yourself, I’ll get us a cinnamon roll. They’re homemade from Jo, and they’re the best around.”
“They smell delicious. Thank you.”
Leah and I sit on the couch and have coffee and the best cinnamon roll I have ever tasted. I must have moaned because she says, “Jo” — she points with her head to the older woman readin’ the book — “makes them from scratch every morning.”
“These are better than…”
“Cinnabon?”
“Yes.” I swallow a mouthful of the sugary goodness.
“I know.”
In the middle of the book, Gracie comes up and sits on her Momma’s lap. I watch as Leah plays with Gracie’s curls as she rocks her side to side. It’s as if nothin’ else matters in this moment. “Nap time,” she mouths. I almost expected Sawyer Jackson to come up and sit on my lap, but he doesn’t. He listens, and laughs at the story. Jo is very animated, and the kids love it. The Going to Bed Book by Sandra Boynton is a hit with all of the children.
Soon a woman with short brown hair comes in with a little boy. He takes a seat on one of the wooden chairs and listens to the story. She sits on the chair nearest to Leah. She waves and smiles at me. “Sorry I didn’t make it sooner. I got stuck in traffic.”
“It’s all right. Jo was more than happy to read today. This is Savannah Mae, she’s Abel Kennedy’s fiancée. Savannah Mae, this is my friend Chelsea.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say.
“Likewise.”
I look at the pictures of the children on the wall. The little boy in the picture looks like the little boy Chelsea walked in with. The other little girls must be Madison and Jamie. My heart hurts at the thought of Jamie. I look away and stare at Jo finishin’ up the story. I don’t even want to imagine what it must have been like to lose a child.
While Jo reads, a little boy keeps touchin’ her leg. Jo doesn’t say anything, and after she’s finished readin’, the little boy tells her, “Your leg feels just like my mother’s leg.” Jo just smiles at ’im as she adjusts her stockin’s. What are you supposed to say to something like that? Thank you?
When the story ends, Sawyer Jackson begs me to buy him the book that Jo just read. Smart marketin’ to have a display table set up with today’s featured book.
Leah, Jo, Chelsea, and I are able to talk for a while, although occasionally Jo or Leah gets up to wait on a customer. One of the things we talk about is childhood games. I tell them about crawdad fishin’ with Abel Lee and Sawyer Jackson in Rose Farm.
Leah says, “My grandfather used to take me out to hunt watermelons. We always snuck up on the watermelons because my grandfather told me that if a watermelon knows you are comin’, it will run away.”
I laugh so hard I wipe away a tear.
“When I was a little girl, my granddad and I used to go mushroom hunting,” Jo says. “This was a popular activity, and I worried that other people who got up earlier than we did would find all the mushrooms. But my granddad always told me not to worry, because our mushrooms would hide from the other mushroom hunters. My granddad was right because we always found our mushrooms.”
Chelsea says, “I grew up in an urban area, and so I played different games from the ones you played. I once sat on the curb and when my mother asked what I was doing, I said, ‘I’m playing I’m homeless.’“
Leah says, “I heard Madison playing with Barbie the other day. She had a wedding with Ken and Barbie. Madison had the doll who was the minister say, ‘I now pronounce you man and wife. May God have mercy on your souls.’“
Chelsea says, “When I was a little girl, I talked to fairies. I once told the fairies that I was going to the kitchen to get a cookie. When I went to the kitchen, a cookie and a glass of milk were waiting for me, along with a note from the fairies telling me a riddle: ‘What’s black, white, and red all over? A sunburned penguin.’ When I was older, I learned that my mother and older brother had heard me talking to the fairies, and my brother had talked to me for a few minutes so that my mother had time to go to the kitchen and set out the milk, cookie, and note from the fairies.”
I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard or so much. It’s good to put so much distance between me and the killer in Rose Farm. It feels good that I can laugh again. I didn’t get to meet Madison since she was in school.
Chapter Thirteen (Country Love)
Abel Lee
Bobby and I go at it, and it feels great. I don’t fight like I’m trying to kill him. And he doesn’t fight like he’s trying to kill me, either. But it does feel good to release some tension caused by the threats and the murderer still at large in Rose Farm. It weighs heavy on my mind. I’m trying to not show it in front of Savannah Mae or Sawyer Jackson. I would definitely feel better if Maria would return my calls.
We cut the fight short and I shower in the locker room. When I’m done, we walk through the office door leading to Leah’s office. There is a little girl asleep in a small bed in the corner of the room, and Leah and Savannah Mae are sitting in the over-stuffed couches talking. Sawyer Jackson is reading while lying on the carpeted area.
Bobby hands me a bottled water before we join the girls in the sitting area. We talk and finish our water before we leave. We also make plans to meet up for dinner before we leave if we can.
We have a late lunch and swim before we get ready for dinner. I toss the beach ball to Savannah Mae. “So, is Brea from Rose Farm, too?”
“No, she’s from Zanesville,” she says. “Her last name was Kinsley, Brea Kinsley. She moved down here with Sara…”
“Roberts,” I interrupt.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“I haven’t seen them in…”
“Five years?” she interrupts again.
I laugh. “I was going to say ten years.” I toss the inflatable ball to Sawyer Jackson. “I left home ten years ago. Sara, Brea, and I used to know some of the same people. Although I never dated either of th
em, my friends did. We used to go to games and movies together. We also used to ride up and down Maple Avenue together. It seems silly now, but it used to be the big thing to do on weekend nights. Every teenager with a driver’s license and a car would be there, doing the same thing.”
“They moved down about five years ago, and opened up an insurance business, and from what I can tell, it’s very successful.”
“Good for them. You always like to hear of people’s successes.” When I left home, I lost track of a lot of people.
We pull up outside the restaurant and my phone rings. Thank God. “It’s Maria.” I look at Savannah Mae and then down to Sawyer Jackson. I can’t take the call with him here. Things may be said that he shouldn’t hear. We’ve done our best to shield him from this ugliness.
“We’ll meet you inside.” She lightly touches my arm as she walks away.
I nod as I answer the call. “Maria, I’ve been calling you.”
“Sorry, Abel. I just got back in the states. Your messages sounded urgent, but vague. What’s going on?”
“Where’s your brother?” I walk further away from the cars and away from the parking lot.
“I have no idea. I haven’t seen Josh in weeks, maybe months. Why?”
I tell her what’s been going on with the pictures and the notes. I also tell her about the threats to Savannah Mae and about the killer at large. I still have no idea if it’s the same person. A part of me believes that it is and a part of me thinks that it’s purely coincidental.
“Abel, you can’t think that it’s Josh doing this.”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s absurd. He was pissed about what happened between us, but it wasn’t your fault. Beside’s that was several years ago.”
“I know, but people still think I hurt you from a drunken rampage. Even your sister showed up at a press conference in Vegas not too long ago, remember?”
“Yeah, how can I forget that. It was all over the news.”
“Can you try to locate Josh for me and let me know his whereabouts?” I watch as people enter and exit the restaurant.
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