Iona patted my hand, and I wondered if she was offering the advice for Buzzy and Mother, Connor and me, or me and Mother.
Or all of us.
“Do you have kids, Iona?” Bree asked.
“Never blessed, dear. I’ve been widowed a long time now, but I have the comfort of living near my big extended family who constantly remind me what’s important in life.”
Bree stole a glance at Uncle Camp over her shoulder, then said, “Do you ever think about giving love another try?”
Ah, so I wasn’t the only one who had seen the sparks between them.
Iona’s gaze drifted toward Uncle Camp. “I’ve never given it much thought. My heart has always belonged to only one man.”
“Hearts are big enough to hold lots of love,” I said, hoping she’d take my hint. I was a sucker for romance and she and Uncle Camp were adorable together.
Uncle Camp caught me watching him, winked, then went into the cottage.
“I do believe you might be right, Leala,” Iona said with a suddenly shy smile.
I saw Connor pull out his phone again, and I forced myself to look away, toward the trees, following with my gaze the curve of their trunks as they bowed away from each other, then curved back again, their canopies blending together as one.
I wanted to believe that Connor and I would grow together again, that my marriage could be saved. But sometimes when you bent too far, you risked breaking.
Chapter
15
Sadie
“How’d you like the mac and cheese, Bree?” Mama asked. “Did it measure up to your mother’s recipe?”
Elvis crooned about jailhouses in the background as Bree said, “It’s good, but my mom’s recipe is extra special. It has three types of cheese, jalapeños, and bacon.”
“I can confirm it’s the best.” Teddy leaned back into the sunshine beyond the umbrella’s reach. “And you know I’m a bit of a mac and cheese specialist.”
Mama said, “Shoo, that does sound tasty. I might need that recipe myself.”
Tucker ran circles around the table with Nigel, and I honestly didn’t know how either were on their feet after being on the go all day long. I was growing dizzy just watching them go round and round.
“He’s just living his best life, isn’t he, the little darlin’?” Teddy asked, watching him run. “Oh, to have that energy.”
“Tucker, careful of the table corners,” Leala said, wincing every time he swerved close to the edge of the table. His face was the perfect height to get a black eye from one misstep.
Mama grinned at his antics. “He’s doing just fine. You worry too much, LC. Let go and live a little.”
Leala’s nostrils flared, and I suddenly regretted my seat choice, sandwiched between the two of them and their passive-aggressive jabs. The five of us sat at the patio table, long done eating but still chatting and enjoying the early evening. Connor and Will had volunteered to clear plates, and Uncle Camp, Iona, and Buzzy were fishing off the seawall.
“You know, LC,” Mama said, her voice even, “if you warn him about every little thing, he won’t listen about the big things. Pick your battles. He has to learn some things on his own. It’s the way of life.”
A gust of wind shook the red umbrella, hinting at changing weather. Usually, this was one of my favorite times of day, when the rush of the day was just about over and stillness slowly crept in, allowing the focus to shift to the whistling wind, the scent of the lake, and the birds singing high in the trees. The warmth of the late day sun settled around me like a hug, but acting as a buffer between Mama and Leala was ruining the moment.
Next to me Leala seethed silently, pretending she hadn’t heard a word Mama had uttered. I’d take her silence over the back-and-forth bickering anytime, but I honestly didn’t know how she was keeping quiet.
Teddy pushed her empty plate away and set her elbows on the table. “I wouldn’t mind that mac and cheese recipe, either. Oh, oh! Sadie! You should do a video with Bree and her mac and cheese while you’re here in town. That recipe should be shared with the world. I mean, that is if Bree’s up for it.”
Bree fidgeted, then smiled. “I think Mom would like that, but I don’t know.” Her gaze drifted over to me, obviously waiting for me to chime in.
While I liked the idea of filming with her for a few reasons, the fact alone that Bree was willing to be on camera with her scars was enough for me to say yes. But there were logistical issues. “I mean, I would love to, but I’m leaving tomorrow morning. There’s not enough time to prep and then film … I’d need three, four days at least.”
“But you don’t have to leave tomorrow,” Leala piped in, breaking her silence and rejoining the conversation.
“Sure I do. I’m driving Iona back to Wetumpka, remember? We’re leaving at ten.”
Leala set her glass onto the table. “Iona told me not half an hour ago that she’s staying for the whole week—she took the Maloneys’ room.”
The wind gusted again, sending strands of my hair flying across my face. “I hadn’t heard that.”
“It’s true.” Mama nodded. “I told you someone would come along to fill that room. Policy schmolicy,” she added under her breath.
I rolled my eyes. I was drafting that policy whether she wanted me to or not. I’d leave it on her desk. Whether she implemented it was up to her, but at least I’d know I tried.
“So you can stay,” Leala said, her gaze locked on me.
“No, no, she can’t,” Mama interrupted. “I’m sure Sadie has other interviews lined up. She should get back on the road, where she belongs. Seeing the country. Meeting new people, tellin’ their stories. And just last night I planted the seed that maybe she should travel overseas. Wouldn’t that be something? Hankerin’ from across the pond?”
Teddy faux swooned. “If you go, Sadie, take me with you! Maybe I’ve been looking for my true love on the wrong continent. Maybe he lives in Italy. Or France!”
“Oh là là!” Bree wiggled her eyebrows, and they fell against each other, laughing, unaware of—or desperately trying to ignore—the mounting tension across the table.
Leala leaned forward so she could aim the full power of her glare at Mama. “Maybe Sadie wants to stay here in Sugarberry Cove. It’s her choice.”
Mama lifted an eyebrow and turned her head oh so slightly toward me. “Sadie?”
Caught up in an emotional tug-of-war, I fidgeted. “I have no interest in traveling overseas, except maybe to sightsee one day.”
Mama tsked loudly in disapproval.
“But,” I continued, “I am due in Georgia on Wednesday—I was planning to drive over there Tuesday morning after staying the night in Wetumpka. Even if I left from here on Tuesday instead of down there, there’s not enough time to film.”
“Why not?” Leala asked. “Aren’t your videos short?”
“A lot of prep goes into the videos,” I said, trying not to lose my temper at how little regard she gave to my career. The prep was most of the work, honestly. Though the filming and editing took a good chunk of time, the footage I collected completely depended on my getting to know the people I was interviewing and asking the right questions.
“Next year, then,” Teddy said, trying once again to lighten the mood.
“If you can get Sadie to come back,” Leala bit out. “Tucker, the table, honey!”
“He’s fine.” Mama rolled her eyes. “Let him be. When does mothering become smothering, LC? If he runs into the table, he’ll learn never to do it again, won’t he?”
“I’d rather be cautious than careless, attentive rather than distracted, because we both know what can happen when you don’t care enough to pay attention, don’t we?” Leala said, her whole body rigid.
Mama narrowed her gaze, and I could practically see flames shooting out her ears. This argument was escalating to a dark, dangerous place.
Connor came out of the cottage to collect a few more plates and must’ve seen the look on Leala’s face, bec
ause he stopped just short of the table. “Everything okay out here?”
“Just fine,” Mama said sharply, throwing her napkin onto the tabletop. “Where’s Will gone off to? Did he finally have his fill of us?”
I thanked the heavens she was easily distracted as Connor picked up Mama’s empty plate and said, “He’s inside doing dishes.”
Sure enough, Will’s head was visible through the window as he bent over the sink. I smiled, thinking about him waking up this morning, planning his day, and somehow ending up here doing dishes.
“Oh.” Mama looked crestfallen, her shoulders sagging.
She hadn’t let down her guard all day, making sure Will and I stayed apart, and clearly it was taking its toll.
“Tucker, buddy,” Connor said as he also picked up Teddy’s and Bree’s plates like he’d been bussing tables his whole life long. “Take this inside to the kitchen, please.” He handed him Teddy’s plate and gave Leala an empathetic look that told me he had a fair idea of why his wife was in a temper.
With Nigel following him, Tucker carried the melamine plate as if it were made of delicate china, and waited for Connor to catch up to open the door. “Where Moo?”
“Inside sleeping. Are you ready for bed?”
“No, I not.”
“Good to know,” Connor said, throwing a smile at Leala over his shoulder.
Bree coughed uneasily, then leaned in. “Yoga was fun this morning, Leala. I can see why you like it. Thanks for showing us some positions.”
Leala loosened up a bit. “I enjoyed the company. I’ll be out there again tomorrow if you want to join me. Don’t you think Sadie should join us?”
“Absolutely!” Teddy said. “Leala’s a great teacher, Sadie.”
“Yoga’s not my thing,” I said, trying to keep from looking at Will.
“Have you even tried it?” Leala asked.
“No.”
Mama snorted.
“You should try it. We can move it to the lawn if the dock’s the issue,” Leala said.
“It’s not the dock,” I answered, thinking it was absolutely the dock. I didn’t want to be on it. It was too close to the water, and the pull would be too strong to jump in, swim, laugh, live. I’d never be able to leave Sugarberry Cove again. And I had to leave. I’d worked too long, too hard on A Southern Hankerin’ to abandon it now.
“Leala, have you ever done yoga on the stand-up paddleboard?” Bree asked.
Leala shook her head. “I never even thought to give it a try until I saw you doing it today.”
“LC was never one to color outside of the lines,” Mama said.
Leala started to come out of her chair, and I pushed her back down and yelled, “Hey, Buzzy. Mama’s looking for a dance partner. What do you say?”
Mama huffed. “Sadie Way Scott, what are you doing? I most certainly am not.”
Buzzy, Uncle Camp, and Iona abandoned their fishing gear and headed for the table, just as Elvis started singing “Love Me Tender.” Perfect timing.
“Now look what you’ve done, Sadie.” Mama fluffed her hair.
Buzzy pushed his glasses up his nose and swept an arm toward a wide, circular section of the flagstone patio that surrounded the fire pit, perfect as a makeshift dance floor.
Mama put her hand in his and said, “Now don’t you go stepping on my toes, Buzzy Hale.”
He looked affronted. “When have I ever?”
“Well, people change,” Mama pointed out.
“I’m hoping so,” he said in a soft voice.
Uncle Camp turned to Iona and said, “I haven’t danced near enough in all my years and wouldn’t mind taking a spin as well. What do you say, pretty lady?”
Color flooded her fair cheeks and she laughed, the sound bubbling up, glowing incandescently in the growing twilight. “I’d be honored, kind sir.”
I smiled as she took his proffered hand, feeling hope floating again.
Bree turned to watch the pairs partner up. “This is the cutest.”
Teddy grinned. “I smell magic in the air. And maybe a little love, too.”
Leala stood up and rubbed her temples. “I’m going inside to take something for this headache—maybe a whole bottle of something—then I’m going to get a cocktail. A big one.”
That’s where Leala had gone wrong—she hadn’t been drinking yet. I’d spiked my last glass of sweet tea with bourbon, right after Mama tried to give me brochures on London and talked up all the old family recipes I was bound to find in Europe.
“Oh, a cocktail sounds delightful,” Teddy said, hopping up to follow Leala. “Wait for me.”
I watched Buzzy and Mama, how their bodies inched closer and closer together as the song went on, and again wondered how love had split them apart when love was supposed to bring people together.
“Why don’t Susannah and Leala get along?” Bree asked as she swapped seats, plunking down next to me. “They’re both so nice.”
I took another sip of my tea, wishing I’d added more bourbon earlier. A lot more. As I watched Mama dance, looking like she fit exactly right in Buzzy’s arms, I waffled on what to say. “I think they both want something the other won’t give, and that bleeds into how they treat each other. Families are complicated, aren’t they?”
Lightning bugs started to flicker along the honeysuckle vines as Uncle Camp dipped Iona, and his face glowed with happiness as she laughed. I hoped they danced the night away, especially after Uncle Camp’s comment about not dancing enough in life.
Bree’s face wrinkled as she looked across the yard. “Definitely. I’ve seen it firsthand with my aunts and uncles. But I was super close to my mom.” Her voice cracked. “She died a year ago.”
The weight of her words hit me full force, knocking the wind out of me. I’d suspected her mama had passed away, but knowing for certain made me ache for her. Losing a parent was beyond tragic. “I’m sorry, Bree. Losing someone you love is so painful, especially a parent.”
“It’s like what we were all talking about yesterday—how one day you’re here, then you’re gone. It happened just like that. It was a normal day. Sunny. Beautiful. Mom was gardening, planting daisies, and she disturbed a nest of yellow jackets. We didn’t know she was allergic. She died before she even got to the hospital. I didn’t get to say goodbye.”
“Oh, Bree. I am so, so sorry.” I wished I could do more, say more, to ease her pain.
“It was just her and me, too. My dad left when I was just a baby and never came back. She was a teacher, my mom, and my everything. Life hasn’t been the same since.”
How could it be? “Nobody is the same after experiencing trauma. It changes you, shapes you into a whole different person.”
She nodded knowingly. “I just wish my mom could’ve gotten a second chance, like you did. And Susannah and Leala. And even me.”
“You?”
She tilted her face toward me. “When I found my mom lying in the grass, I was blind with panic. As I ran into the house to call 911, I ran right into the glass door, shattering it. I have lots of scars—not just this one on my face. A shard went into my chest. I didn’t realize how bad it was, because I was running on adrenaline. I managed to call for help before passing out. I almost died that day, too. Some days I wish I had, but not most days,” she added quickly. “I know I’m lucky to be alive. I know my mom would be happy that I’m alive. But why do some people get a second chance at life and others don’t?”
I wanted to cry as I grieved a woman I’d never known and the life Bree had lost that day her mother died, because I knew she wasn’t the same person she used to be—and would never be her again. “I don’t know. I’ve been asking myself that question for years.”
Bree gave me a sad smile. “I mean, at least you got pretty hair. All I got are scars.”
I wanted to tell her that I considered my hair a scar as well, but she was so earnest in her compliment that I couldn’t bear to shatter the image she held of me. “Scars, yes, but they tell a story of y
our survival. They’re saying you’re still here. And as Uncle Camp likes to tell me, being alive is a gift.”
Her smile reached her eyes this time. “Leala said something similar, about the stories scars tell. You’re lucky to have a sister.”
I glanced toward the house, hoping Leala was okay. “I know I am.”
As Elvis transitioned to “Don’t Be Cruel” and the dancers started fast dancing with wild arm swings and jerky leg movements, Bree said, “We should get a video of this.”
“Agreed.” I pulled out my phone and started filming, trying not to laugh too hard in order to keep my hand steady. I filmed for a good thirty seconds before switching it off and taking a couple of still shots.
Teddy came out with a cocktail in one hand and Nigel in the other. She grinned at us, then the dance floor, before making her way to the doggy play yard.
Bree and I sat in silence for a while, just watching the show being put on for us, before she said, “Sorry to dump all that on you. About my mom, I mean. I just got to thinking about moms and it all came out.”
I glanced at her, hoping she understood how much I appreciated her trust. “You didn’t dump anything on me. You shared your story, your pain, and I’m glad you did.”
“It does make me feel better. My aunt and uncle—I live with them now—don’t like talking about my mom. They say it makes them too sad, but Aunt Teddy doesn’t mind.”
Lightning bugs flitted around the table. “Well, I’d really like to hear more about your mom, because if she made you, then she was pretty darn special. You know, if you’re still up for it, maybe we should make a video about your mom’s mac and cheese.”
There was a question in her eyes. “But you’re leaving.”
“I’ll stay till Tuesday. And we’ll figure out a way to make it work. What do you say?”
She smiled. “I say let’s do it. Someone has to teach y’all to make proper mac and cheese.”
Laughing, I put an arm around her shoulders, giving her a side hug. “Thank goodness you’re here, then.”
She hooked a thumb toward the house and stood. “I think I’m going to grab some ice cream and watch Netflix for a while. All this Elvis music is making my head hurt a little.”
The Lights of Sugarberry Cove Page 16