“This boy was obviously important to you. Let’s just see if we can find him,” Meghan said, not looking up from her phone.
Adele struggled for an argument and then settled on the truth. “I don’t want to know.” What she meant was, I don’t want to know what my life could’ve been. There was something painful in the wandering of her memories.
“Surely you must wonder about him,” Lila said.
“Of course, but I’ve imagined a whole beautiful life for Henry. What if he fell on hard times or worse, what if he’s gone?” Adele sighed. “I know too many people who’ve been taken from this earth too soon. I like believing Henry’s still out there, living it up and laughing that laugh of his.”
Jane pushed the open journal in front of her. “Adele, this boy was important to you.” Adele glanced down at the pages of her own handwriting surrounding an old photo of her and Henry at the Country Fair Dance in the Commons. The whole town had gathered for the traditional fall festivities—tourists often returned to enjoy the changing colors and cool temperatures of autumn in the little town. The dance was the final event of the weekend. “What if he’s alone out there? You two could rekindle what you had all those years ago.”
“Girls, you’re romanticizing this. It’s not that simple. There were reasons Henry and I didn’t end up together.” Adele hated those reasons. Hated thinking that she hurt Henry. At a time when he needed her most.
“Here. I think I found him. Henry Marshall, right? Lives in Grand Falls.” Meghan looked up, turning the phone around to show the screen.
Adele gasped. “Grand Falls? That’s only an hour away.”
Meghan wagged her eyebrows. “Shall we pay him a visit?”
Adele grabbed her phone and looked at the page in front of her, then pulled it back as her eyes adjusted to the small words. “What is this? How’d you find him so easily?”
“It’s Facebook, Mama. You want to set up a page?”
“What on earth would I do with a Facebook page?”
“Maybe rekindle an old romance?” Lila grinned.
“You girls are out of your minds.” But as Adele stared at the photo on Henry’s Facebook page, she couldn’t hide her smile. He was still so handsome, though his hair had gone white and he’d bulked up a bit. She tried to pull her eyes from his image, but it drew her in, just like he always had.
What kind of life did you have, Henry Marshall?
Adele blinked back tears that caught her by surprise. How could she be so emotional over a man she hadn’t seen in decades? She didn’t know him anymore.
“You have a computer. What do you have to lose?” Jane nodded toward the old PC that Adele hadn’t turned on in a month.
“I got that because Luke didn’t need it anymore. He thought I could use it for the store.” Adele scoffed. She had no idea what to do with it. She had someone who did her books for her, and she’d never found another reason to have a computer, yet there it sat.
“You have it all hooked up and ready to go. And you’ll have to be on it a lot to write that cookbook. What do you think you’re going to do, write it with pen and paper?”
She looked at Meghan, whose raised brows told her that her daughter’s question was not rhetorical.
“You’re such a smarty-pants,” Adele said.
Meghan hopped up and flipped on the computer. It sounded like an old vacuum cleaner. Next she turned toward Adele and held up her phone.
“Smile, Mama.”
“What are you—”
Before she could get her hand in front of her face, Meghan had snapped a photo. Moments later, it popped up on the computer screen and she’d been signed up for an account on that blasted Web site.
Seconds after that, Meghan announced she’d sent a “friend request” to Henry.
“I don’t even know what that means,” Adele said.
“It’s okay, Mama, we’re here to bring you into this century.”
Adele felt like she’d just lost control of her own life.
“You girls are too much,” Adele said. “What am I supposed to do now?”
Jane smiled. “Now, you wait.”
“What am I waiting for?”
“For him to accept your friend request and write on your wall,” Campbell said.
“My wall? What in the world? You girls are going to make a fool out of me,” Adele said, peering over Meghan’s shoulder.
“Once you get the hang of it, you’ll be as addicted as the rest of us,” Campbell said.
“Right, and then you’ll feel like a teenager all over again, waiting for the boy you like to call you on the phone.” Meghan smiled.
Adele sighed. These girls had just turned her whole world upside- down and they didn’t even realize it. She took another peek at the computer screen.
Now, she waited.
And waiting wasn’t her strong suit.
Lila
Days passed, and in spite of all efforts to try to forget what had happened on Thanksgiving, Lila kept replaying her conversation with the blonde woman over and over.
“You seem lost in thought,” Tom said. The two of them sat in the three-season room, supposedly to enjoy a quiet cup of coffee, but Lila’s mind was making too much noise.
She sat, face free of makeup and still wearing pajamas and a robe—something she never would’ve done even a year ago. How was it that nearly losing her marriage had brought a new comfort between her and Tom?
“That woman from the other day,” Lila said.
Tom’s face lit up. He’d asked her repeatedly what was bothering her, but something had kept her from sharing. Before she could explain, Mama walked in and sat across from her on the sofa.
“Lila, I hope this isn’t how you’re going to spend the rest of your pregnancy,” she said, taking a drink of coffee.
Lila smacked the words away in her mind, willing them not to seep in.
She grabbed Mama’s glare and decided to challenge her. Her pregnancy really was making her bolder. “Mama, do you know who that woman was?”
Lila detected only the slightest bit of surprise. “What woman?” She took another drink, holding Lila’s gaze.
Lila wrapped her robe around her tighter, remembering the few times she’d stood up to Mama. It never ended well. “You know who I’m talking about.”
Mama waved her hand as though she was swatting an imaginary fly. “You know your father.”
Yes, she did. But the blonde didn’t seem like Daddy’s other mistresses, and Lila couldn’t figure out why one of his mistresses would show up at their Thanksgiving dinner. Besides, there was something desperate in her eyes—Lila almost felt sorry for her.
But surely she couldn’t have been the first mistress to fall in love with Daddy. How had her family escaped the emotion of the others?
One glance at her mother and pity washed over her. Mama had put up with Daddy’s indiscretions for her entire marriage—but had she ever come face-to-face with one of his conquests before? And in such a public way? In spite of all her shortcomings, Lila didn’t want to crush her mother.
“Lila, you need to learn here and now how to tell the difference between a legitimate problem and a woman who will make up lies to get at our money. Your father is a successful man. This isn’t the first time some woman has shown up with a ridiculous claim.”
Lila studied her mother. Had other women crawled out of the woodwork over the years?
“What kind of claim? What does she want?”
Mama shifted. “I think you should spend less time worrying about that woman and more time taking care of yourself, Lila,” Mama said, picking up the newspaper and scanning the front page. “Think about Tom. Don’t give him a reason to let his eye start to wander. Am I right, Tom?” She glanced at Tom with a raised brow.
Tom shifted in his seat, then turned to Mama. “I think she’s more beautiful today than she was the day I met her.”
Mama stared at him for a long minute and then burst out laughing. “But what about the extra pounds cree
ping on?”
“She’s pregnant, Cilla,” Tom said.
“Her face isn’t pregnant,” Mama said with another wave of her hand.
Tom squeezed Lila’s shoulder, but the damage had been done. Lila stood.
“Oh, Lila, don’t get emotional. You know I only want what’s best for you.”
Neither Tom nor Lila spoke, and finally Mama sighed. “You’re so sensitive these days.” She set the newspaper down, stood, then walked out, leaving Lila stunned silent. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, plopped back in her seat, and blinked back fresh tears.
Tom knelt in front of her, pulling her into his arms. “Don’t let her get to you, sweetheart,” he said. “Do you see what she just did?”
Lila shook her head.
“You were about to bring up something humiliating to her—so she turned all the attention back to you. And she’s wrong. I’ll always think you’re beautiful. You’re carrying our child.” He swiped her tears from her cheeks and smiled at her.
All of Mama’s spite threatened to change the way she felt about herself—to turn this pregnancy into something other than joyful, but Tom loved her, she could see it in his eyes.
“Maybe we should go back to Georgia,” she said.
“I thought you wanted to spend the week here.” He propped himself up on the coffee table but kept his hands on her knees.
“I did, but not like this.” Lila looked around the lake house. Adele’s house had been more familiar and comforting than her own parents’ house.
Tom sighed. “I’ve got a flight out of Chicago in a few days. Wouldn’t make much sense to fly back to Georgia just to fly right back here.”
She frowned. He had a point. But the thought of being cooped up with Mama for even another hour filled her with anxiety. She inhaled deeply to calm her quickening pulse.
“Here’s a crazy idea.” A smile spread across his face. “Why don’t we find our own cottage?”
“In Sweethaven?”
“We shouldn’t let your parents ruin this place for us. I want our child to spend summers here, in the place where we fell in love. Don’t you?”
Lila nodded. “Ever since Suzanne died, I realized how important this town is. It’s made me slow down and appreciate what I had here.” She let her thoughts turn to her earliest memories on the beach down by the lake. Mama would sit in her beach chair under the umbrella and Lila would run around with Jane and some of the other girls, digging in the sand, making castles and venturing out into the water. It had been a simple, idyllic way to grow up. She wanted that for her own child.
That, minus the entitlement.
“What do you think? We could spend the rest of the week looking,” Tom said. “Let’s just see what we find.”
Lila smiled, warming to the idea. “I think having our own place, our own piece of Sweethaven might be exactly what I need.”
Tom leaned forward and kissed her. “And stop worrying about that mystery woman. Whoever she is, she’s not your problem—she’s your father’s problem, and you don’t need the extra stress right now.” He folded the newspaper and stuck it under his arm. “I’m going to see what cottages I can find for sale.”
He left her sitting there alone with the sinking feeling that this woman wasn’t going away any time soon—and Lila had a feeling she wasn’t in this for money.
This woman had come to expose the truth about her father. And Lila had half a mind to help her.
Jane
The humiliation of the Thanksgiving service hadn’t even begun to dwindle, and if Jane could’ve come up with a valid reason, she would’ve left Sweethaven for home in Iowa Thanksgiving night. But she’d promised to meet Meghan for coffee, the girls planned a shopping trip, and Graham had made plans to spend a few days focusing on guy stuff with Sam.
Plus, she had lamented her embarrassment to Graham to the point where he and their children had announced they wanted to give her an early Christmas present: they loved her, but she didn’t love herself, and they wanted her to stay in Sweethaven until Christmas to focus on her health.
“What’s so crazy about that?” he’d said. “I think you should do it.”
“What about the kids, Graham?”
He raised a brow. “You don’t think I can handle a few weeks alone with the kids?”
She scrunched her nose at him. “I really don’t.”
He laughed. “We’ll come up on the weekends. You need to do this, hon. For yourself. I want you to be healthy, and getting rid of distractions is important right now.”
She’d thanked him a hundred times since, and while she knew she’d miss her family, a part of her was grateful for the chance to tackle this problem once and for all.
She smiled at the thought.
The Christmas decorations had already come out, and as she walked toward the café, Jane saw a group of people hanging lights and ornaments on a tree in the Square, just in front of the gazebo. December in Sweethaven promised a certain kind of magic for young children who still believed in Santa Claus—and adults who wished they did. The Luminary Walk, the lighting of the Christmas tree, and the Christmas Concert in the park were just the beginning of the holiday season. It had been years since Jane had spent a Christmas in the little town, but as she watched the antique light posts receive their oversize red bows and greenery, Jane longed to let that magic fill her once again.
Inside the café, she waved at Luke, busy with a customer, and perused the restaurant for any sign of Meghan. Nothing.
Her mind whirled back to the last time they were supposed to meet for coffee. Meghan hadn’t shown, instead leaving Jane to sit alone looking more pathetic with every check of her watch.
Please don’t let her do that again.
She spotted a booth in the back, near the fireplace, but as she made her way through the maze of chairs, she heard her name off to the right. She turned, expecting to find Meghan, but instead spotted Lori sitting with two other women. Perfectly groomed and color coordinated, all three of them hurried their eyes away from Jane, but not before Jane heard the words How embarrassing escape Lori’s lips.
Her face heated and she looked back toward the booth, but someone had slipped into it, leaving no other empty seats. As Jane turned around, a small boy skidded in front of her. She tripped and nearly toppled over him.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jane said, her face hot with distress.
A burst of laughter from Lori’s table echoed out, and Jane apologized three more times to the mother of the young boy. Even though if he’d been sitting in his seat, she never would’ve tripped.
A table opened up near the front of the café, so Jane rushed to it, plopped down on the chair and stared out the window—away from the critical eyes of the Sweethaven population.
“You okay?” Luke stood beside her, tall and handsome like he just stepped off a movie screen.
Jane sighed. “I seem to be something of a mess lately.” She looked away.
“You meeting Meghan?” He sat down across from her. If he was taking pity on her, it made her want to give him a hug.
Jane nodded. “I hope she shows up this time.”
“She’s right there,” Luke said, nodding out the window where Meghan was handing a notebook and pen back to a group of teenage girls.
“I told her she could come to my house, but she insisted on getting out.”
“I think she likes the attention,” Luke said, laughing. “It’s partly why she became a singer.”
Jane shook her head and watched as Meghan entered the café. “A part I’ll never understand. I hate having people stare at me.”
Heads turned toward Meghan as she opened the door, her face half-covered by oversize sunglasses, yet still recognizable as Sweethaven’s most famous resident.
Maybe the people in the café would forget all about Jane when they saw Meghan Rhodes sitting with her. Meghan waved when she saw her and rushed over to the table.
“You’re in my seat, little brother,” sh
e said as Luke stood.
“He felt sorry for me,” Jane said. “Sitting here alone.”
Luke put a hand on Jane’s shoulder. “That’s crazy talk and you know it. I’ll send Delcy over to take your order.”
“Thanks, Lukey.” Jane flashed a smile and tried to remember the people who really mattered in her life weren’t the ones who cared if she broke a chair or tripped over a little kid in the middle of a crowded restaurant.
“You look upset,” Meghan said, taking her coat off.
Jane shrugged. “It’s nothing.”
“I heard about the chair.” Meghan’s eyes were filled with empathy. Not pity. She’d missed her old friend. How thankful she was to have mended fences with Meghan after all they’d been through. “Once I was onstage and the heel of my shoe broke in the middle of a song, and I slipped and fell flat on my butt.”
Jane gasped. “Were you okay?”
“Hurt my pride pretty good.” Meghan laughed. A little girl with long red pigtails walked over to their table with a small notebook.
“Mrs. Rhodes, can I have your autograph?” she said, her blue eyes wide. The girl’s mother stood off to the side, holding a fluffy pink coat.
“Of course, sweetheart. What’s your name?”
“Emily.” The little girl smiled a toothless grin.
“Emily, do you know my friend Mrs. Atkins has a daughter named Emily? It’s one of our favorite names.” Meghan signed the paper and handed it back to the girl.
“Thank you.” Emily walked back to her mom and showed her the notebook, the grin on her face lighting up the room.
“You just made her whole day,” Jane said.
Meghan smiled. “You still look upset.”
“It’s hard, Meg. Being the big girl. I’ve always been the big girl. It’s just frustrating.”
Meghan frowned. “That’s not true, Janie.”
“Yes, it is. Don’t you remember junior high?”
“Sure, but I also remember high school. You were so thin. And at your wedding? Tiny.”
Jane shook her head. “I’ve never been tiny.”
Meghan’s brows shot up. “Do me a favor. Go home and find some old pictures from high school and college and tell me honestly if you see a heavy girl in any of them.”
A Sweethaven Christmas Page 4