The Lights of Sugarberry Cove

by Heather Webber

  When we pulled into the hardware store’s parking lot, Mother hopped right out of the truck saying, “Was that Marlee Hoskins who just went inside? I must catch up to her to thank her for the flowers she sent over.”

  Leaving the door open in her wake, she speed-walked away like she hadn’t just been laid up in the hospital for two and a half days with a bum heart.

  This weekend was surely testing my patience. I missed Tucker. And Connor. I’d used Sadie’s phone to send him another email, a thank-you for the lilies, and saw that he still hadn’t responded to my emails about my sunken phone. Part of me wanted to ask Sadie and Mother to stop by my house on the way back to the cottage, but I really didn’t want them there, seeing the tension between Connor and me. The thought alone hurt a little too much. I’d go later on. By myself.

  Sadie shut off the engine, then dropped her head back against the headrest. “If you’d just kill me now, I’d appreciate it. I prefer something quick, but I’ll take any form of death at the moment. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

  With the passenger seat vacant, I moved over from my tight spot in the middle, putting space between the two of us. “Don’t joke about death. It’s not funny. And you know, if you came around more often, this wouldn’t be so painful. There wouldn’t be all these reunions to suffer through. And didn’t I tell you people missed you? Surely you saw today that they have. And if they saw you all the time, they’d get used to your hair like it’s perfectly normal, like I have. It’s the exposure effect. That’s when people start to accept, even form a fondness for something that they’re repeatedly exposed to. It’s like how I used to hate leggings. Hated, hated, absolutely despised. Then after a year or two of people wearing them, now I kind of love leggings.” I shrugged. “Go figure.”

  Sadie turned her head, arched an eyebrow, and tightly said, “Fondness? When did yours come on for my hair? After you tried to dye it? Or suggested a wig?”

  Guilt wound its way through my stomach. “I’m so sorry about that, Sadie. It was wrong of me. It’s just that—”

  “Girls!” Mother clapped from the store’s entryway. “Get a move on!”

  Oh, now she was in a hurry. And apparently she had also forgotten that Sadie and I were both adults. The clapping was a bit much. But in truth, Mother was a bit much. She always had been and she always would be.

  Sadie shoved open her door, hopped out, then slammed the door closed. She took two steps, stopped, turned, and tossed the hat and sunglasses through the open window into the truck. “No point to those if Mama’s around. Might as well let people get exposed.”

  “Sadie,” I sighed. “It’s not like that. Wait for me.” I scrambled out of the truck. “Let’s talk about this. I need to tell you something about the night you fell in the water—”

  “No,” she threw over her shoulder as she strode into the store.

  I followed her inside, sagging briefly against a blast of welcome air-conditioning. Piped music played cheerfully, and the counter clerk greeted me with a hearty welcome. The store obviously wasn’t the place to talk to Sadie about her accident, but it was past time I did so. Confession being good for the soul and all that.

  “Sadie,” Mother boomed, “come say hello to Marlee!”

  Marlee, a bleached-blond, fortysomething neighbor who lived three houses down the road from the cottage, stared at Sadie’s hair with a look of utter astonishment as she approached, and at Sadie’s pained expression, I suddenly felt like crying.

  And as Marlee said, “Sadie! So good to see you. Your hair is fabulous. Just fabulous. Does it give you any magical powers? Can I touch it?” a tear fell from the corner of my eye.

  I swiped it away and marched over. “Hell no, you can’t touch it, Marlee. Do you go around asking to touch everyone’s hair? For God’s sake, woman, how rude can you be? Show some manners and respect for personal space. No wonder Sadie doesn’t like to come back to Sugarberry Cove. Can I touch it?” I mocked. “Good Lord. Come on, Sadie.” I grabbed her arm and tugged her toward the paint section.

  “Leala Clare!” Mother gasped. “Have you done lost your mind?”

  “Not even a little,” I stated over my shoulder.

  As I dragged Sadie away, I could hear Marlee saying, “Well, I never! Talk about rude. Did you hear the way she spoke to me?”

  “I don’t know what got into her,” Mother said.

  Their voices faded, and once Sadie and I were in the safety of the paint aisle, Sadie exhaled deeply. “Thanks for that.”

  The scent of turpentine swirled in the air as I picked up a paint swatch, a pale-yellow square. “It needed to be said. And Marlee’s one of the biggest gossips in town, so come supper time, all of Sugarberry Cove will know not to touch your hair.”

  Sadie took the swatch out of my hand and tucked it back into the display. She picked up a teal color. “Instead they’ll be talking up a storm about you suddenly being touched in the head.”

  I dismissed the teal, picked up a cool silvery-blue swatch, and laughed. “I kind of don’t mind. It’ll give me a little freedom to act nutty around town.”

  Sadie nodded approvingly at the paint color. “You’ve never acted nutty a day in your life. Except just now.”

  Our gazes met, and she smiled, and I smiled, and my heart melted with love for my little sister. “That wasn’t nutty. That was speaking the truth. Do you deal with that kind of thing all the time?”

  “Mostly staring. The majority of people think I dye it like this on purpose. People who don’t live around here. You do know Mama’s going to eat you alive once she tears herself away from Marlee.”

  I knew. “I’ll just hide behind you. You were looking for a quick death earlier, remember?”

  She laughed, and for a moment all was right in the world. A young woman walked by, stopped, and spun around. “Hey, y’all! Oh my good gosh! I can’t believe it. Sadie Scott! No one is going to believe I ran into you at a hardware store of all places.”

  Slightly confused, I glanced between the woman and Sadie, who was smiling and held out her hand. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Ellie. Ellie Yeargan.”

  Ellie looked to be in her twenties and wore cutoff shorts, a loose tee that showed her swimsuit straps, and cute leather sandals. I didn’t recognize her.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Ellie. This is my sister, Leala. She lives here in Sugarberry Cove. Are you here on vacation?”

  “It’s so great to meet you, Leala. Sadie’s mentioned you a few times on A Southern Hankerin’! And yes, ma’am! Me and my family are staying over at Hearthills Campground and forgot to pack the tent stakes. That’s why I’m here. I mean in the store.” She sagged dramatically. “Would you mind taking a picture with me?”

  Sadie laughed. “Not at all. The campground is real pretty, especially this time of year. Be sure to stop at Anna Ruth’s for some mac and cheese while you’re in town. It’s some of the best you’ll ever have.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I sure will.” The woman pulled a phone from her purse and blinked at me. “Would you mind, Leala?”

  I took the phone. “I don’t mind at all.” I wasn’t quite sure what was happening, but I could take a picture, no problem.

  “I keep tellin’ my mama to write to you,” Ellie gushed. “She has the best recipe for divinity. Truly heavenly. She craved it so much when she was pregnant with my older sister that she held off on going to the hospital so she could make a batch to take with her. She ended up deliverin’ right there in the kitchen. My daddy made sure there was a store of divinity on hand before I was due. He’s a man who learns from his mistakes.”

  “Say cheese,” I said. They put their heads together and grinned.

  Sadie took the phone from me and passed it to Ellie. “I love that story. If your mother’s willing to share it, my contact information is on my channel—be sure to mention in the email that you met me here.”

  “She’s a little camera shy, but if she ever changes her mind, I will definitely let you kn
ow.” She took a step backward. “You’ve been so kind—thank you. I won’t take up any more of your time. Oh gosh. I can’t wait to get back and tell everyone.” She started walking backward, toward the front door.

  “Don’t forget the stakes,” I said.

  Her mouth dropped open and she laughed. “I would’ve, too. Thank y’all!” With a wave, she hurried off and soon disappeared around a corner.

  I turned to face Sadie head-on. “What in the world was that?”

  Sadie lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Apparently she’s a fan of A Southern Hankerin’.”

  “A fan? You have fans? Like, you’re famous?”

  She laughed. “I wouldn’t say famous. Just recognizable, thanks to my hair.”

  I was starting to get more curious about her videos, but checking them out would have to wait until I went home. I had no source of internet at the moment. “Does that happen often? That people stop and talk to you?”

  “Every once in a while.”

  “She was so … effusive.”

  With a smile, Sadie said, “I’ve discovered during my travels that there are a lot more good, kind people out there than you can even imagine.”

  I was still trying to wrap my head around what just happened when we walked into the next aisle and Sadie suddenly came to a dead stop. Then I realized why.

  Will Lockhart looked up from the package of sandpaper he held, and surprise flashed across his eyes, followed by a tight smile.

  “Hey,” he said casually. Too casually. “I’m surprised you two are still here. Didn’t you leave the cottage an hour ago? I thought you’d be at the Dockside by now.”

  It didn’t escape my notice that he’d planned to be here when we weren’t. “Our drive over was delayed due to Mother insisting on stopping to talk to everyone on the planet.”

  I noticed the little looks he threw at Sadie, who was looking at everything but him, and I felt the sparks of tension between them. The sparks of attraction. They had always been there, even back when they were in high school pretending to be only friends. Seemed time and distance had done nothing to dull that particular flame. I wasn’t sure why Will had cut her off when she left town, but whatever it was between them wasn’t finished. Not by a long shot. And even though Sadie said earlier that only heartache would come of them talking about the past, I thought she could be wrong about that. A whole lot could happen—or it could simply lead to closure. Something, it seemed to me, both of them needed.

  “I’m sure folks are glad to see Susannah out and about. Scary times this past week. Need any help finding anything?” he asked with a look that begged me to say no.

  “Sure!” I said enthusiastically. “Can you help Sadie pick out paintbrushes while I grab some tarps and tape?”

  Sadie elbowed me, and I ignored it as he said, “Yeah, I can do that. They’re over here. A good brush is really important.”

  She glared at me as she trailed after him, and I smiled.

  I was trying to eavesdrop while deciding between ten varieties of painter’s tape when Mother turned down the aisle. “Leala Clare Scott!” she angrily whispered when she spotted me.

  “What do you think of this swatch?” I held it up, hoping to distract her from a full-blown hissy fit, a good possibility since she was easily distracted. I talked fast as I added, “Sadie and I like it. It’ll look lovely with all the natural light in the entryway and be a perfect complement to the stain of the pine floors. Don’t you think blue and brown pair so well together? And this color is so neutral you can really play up accent pieces. You can get new artwork and rugs and throw pillows, since I know you like more saturated colors. This shade kind of reminds me of Sadie, actually. The blue of her eyes. The silver of her beautiful hair. Can you even believe people like Marlee asking to touch her hair to see if it’s magical? I wouldn’t like people asking to touch my hair. Whatever happened to personal boundaries?”

  All Mother’s bluster deflated as she took the square swatch from my fingers. “It is a pretty shade, and it’ll almost be like Sadie’s still with us after she leaves again on her next adventure. Where is she anyway?”

  “With Will, picking out paintbrushes.” I nodded toward the far end of the long aisle.

  Mother stiffened and frowned, then walked off, heading toward them, full speed ahead. “Will!” she said in a booming tone. “What a nice surprise seeing you here.”

  Taken aback by her odd reaction, I hurried after her. If I hadn’t just witnessed her displeasure, I’d have believed that she was actually pleased to see him.

  Sadie held up three paintbrushes of varying sizes and said drolly, “Will’s teaching me the benefits of quality bristles.”

  Will nodded. “A good paintbrush is always worth spending a little more.”

  Mother gave a quick glance to the brushes before saying, “Looks like you have some good choices there, Sadie. Thank you so much, Will. Always so helpful.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I should find my sandpaper and be getting back to the cottage.”

  “Oh!” Mother waved a hand. “Take the rest of today off. Tomorrow, too. You’ve been working so hard. A little R & R goes a long way in refreshing a weary spirit. The guest rooms will still be there on Monday.”

  His brows dipped. “Are you sure? That will be cutting the deadline close, with you wanting those suites ready by the water lantern festival.”

  She laughed and gave him a playful swat. “I’ve learned this past week that it’s important to take time off. Learn from my mistakes, Will. I have complete faith the rooms will be done on time. Come on, girls. Let’s get that paint and go. See you soon, Will.” She put her arm around Sadie’s shoulders and steered her toward the paint counter.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said as she walked away, then threw me a perplexed look.

  I was as much in the dark as he was as to why she was acting so strangely. Mother had embraced Will from the moment Sadie had brought him into our lives ten years ago. More than once I’d suspected she loved him more than me. “Thanks for your help with the brushes, Will.”

  He nodded and I quick-footed it after Mother and Sadie. Before I could question her strange behavior, she said, “You girls finish up here, ring out, and I’ll meet you in the truck. I’m feeling a mite worn-out, and I think getting off my feet will help.”

  With that, she headed for the exit.

  As we waited for two gallons of paint to be mixed, Sadie looked me over. “She didn’t eat you alive, I see.”

  “She didn’t have a chance to because she got distracted by you and Will. Despite her cheerful demeanor, she wasn’t pleased to see you two together. Does she know he broke your heart?”

  Her forehead furrowed. “Really? And no, I never told anyone but you yesterday, though I suppose it’s obvious something happened between us, since we haven’t talked in eight years.”

  “She must’ve figured it out. Motherly intuition or something.” Though, it had been a long, long time since I’d thought of her as motherly. “She’s probably trying to protect you while you’re home, keep you from experiencing any awkward situations. That explains why she gave him the rest of the weekend off, too.”

  Sadie laughed, and light filled her eyes. “Well, she’s a little too late for that, though I appreciate the effort.”

  We collected our paint, picked out a few other supplies, then headed for the checkout counter, where I was glad to see no sign of Marlee. Sadie pulled a credit card from her pocket and I said, “Put that away. I’ve got this.”

  “This was all my idea. I’m happy to pay for it.”

  “Even so, I’ll cover it.”

  The clerk glanced over at us and smiled but kept on ringing up products.

  With her hands on her hips, Sadie said, “Leala, I’m paying for it.”

  “Sadie Way, no. You live out of your car, for heaven’s sake. I’ll cover it.”

  Sadie took a step back, then started laughing. “I don’t actually live out of my car, you know. I stay in inn
s and B and Bs and hotels.”

  “And that adds up, doesn’t it?”

  She grinned. “You think I’m poor.”

  I squirmed. “Not poor, necessarily.” Perhaps living paycheck to paycheck. Did she even get a paycheck? I wasn’t sure how creators were paid.

  With a big step backward and a grand flourish, she invited me to pay.

  “Thank you.” I’d sleep better knowing I wasn’t taking food out of her mouth, so to speak.

  She was still smiling when we left the store and set our bags into the back of the truck. Mother scooted to the middle seat as we settled into the cab. Sadie started the truck. “So, to the Dockside?”

  “Actually, I’m tuckered out,” Mother said. “Let’s just go home instead.”

  We drove home in relative silence, and I was grateful for the quiet and for the fact that Mother hadn’t asked Sadie to pull over once.

  As soon as we parked in front of the cottage, Mother said, “I’m going to lie down for a while.”

  Sadie turned off the engine and worry darkened her eyes. “Are you feeling okay, Mama? Should I call Dr. Barnhill?”

  Mother smiled and shook her head. “I’m fine. Just need to rest my eyes a few minutes.” With that, she hopped out of the truck and headed inside.

  We watched her walk into the house, then collected the supplies from the bed of the truck.

  “Maybe I should call Dr. Barnhill anyway,” Sadie said. “That exhaustion came on so suddenly.”

  “The cardiologist said to expect her to be tired. Let’s see how she is after a rest, then make the call if we have to.”

  We walked inside and before we could even set the supplies down in the entryway, Uncle Camp came bustling toward us from the back porch. “So glad you two are back,” he said quietly. “Today’s guest arrived early. I checked her in and I’ve been keeping her company. Nice lady—she’s out on the back porch with a glass of that weird water Sadie made.”