“Liar,” I whispered.
“Ooh.” Bree peered over my shoulder. “That’s deep.”
“It’s fine,” Sadie said, even as blood began pooling on her palm. “Really. We’ll pull it out, clean it up, and my hand will be good as new.”
I grabbed a napkin from the table. “When was your last tetanus shot?”
“No shots!” Tuck cried.
“No, no shots for you,” I said, trying to reassure him.
“None for me, either,” Sadie stated. “It’s a splinter, Leala.”
“It can have bacteria on it. You don’t know.”
“Neither do you. It’s going to be fine. Trust me.”
“You don’t know,” I repeated.
Uncle Camp returned to the porch, a pair of tweezers in hand. “I wiped them down with rubbing alcohol, so they’re nice and clean.”
I held Sadie’s palm to the light and went to work. I’d barely started before the splinter broke in half, the bottom part stuck under the skin. “I’m going to need a needle.”
“Oh no.” Sadie backed up. “No way.”
“It needs to come out,” I insisted.
“It will on its own.”
I didn’t let go of her hand. “Before or after you get gangrene from an infection?”
“Gangrene?” she said with a laugh I didn’t appreciate.
“My mom always used an Epsom salt soak to treat splinters,” Bree said. “Makes it easier to pull out.”
Sadie nodded. “Let’s try that. No needles.”
“You girls go on inside,” Uncle Camp suggested. “It’s about quittin’ time anyway. We can finish up tomorrow. I’ll be in as soon as I put this paint away.”
“I paint!” Tuck ran for his bucket.
“I can stay out here with him,” Bree offered. “No problem.”
“Thanks, Bree. I can’t tell you how much you’ve helped me today.”
She smiled shyly, then turned her attention back to Tuck.
Sadie had already gone into the house, and I ran to catch up with her before she hid from me. Coolness welcomed me inside the entryway, and I thanked the good Lord for air-conditioning.
Sadie dropped dramatically onto the couch, and I wondered if she realized how alike she and Mama were sometimes. She’d hate hearing it, however, so I kept the thought to myself.
In the big chair by the fireplace, Iona looked up from the book she was reading. “How’s your hand, Sadie? A moment ago Camp mentioned you had a splinter the size of Louisiana stuck in it.”
Sadie rolled her eyes and said, “The fuss about it is more painful, honestly.”
Iona laughed lightly. “Some people are born nurturers. Best to let them fuss.”
I was thinking about the odds of Sadie contracting gangrene as Iona’s words registered. I was suddenly filled with light and warmth that she had seen the real me after only a couple of days. I aimed a wry glance at Sadie. “That’s right. Let me fuss.”
“All right.” She dragged out the words as if she suffered greatly. “But only because Iona said so.”
I stuck my tongue out at her, ran upstairs, found the Epsom salts, and had Sadie’s hand soaking in a bucket in no time flat. Drained, I sat next to her on the couch. “Does it still hurt?”
“It never hurt,” she said, her tone so laced with exasperation that I believed her.
“Then you’re made of heartier stuff than I am. Remember that time I got a thorn in my finger from Buzzy’s blackberry bushes?” I glanced at Iona. “Hurt like the devil. I cried when I got it, I cried when Uncle Camp pulled it out, and I cried for ten minutes after from the throbbing trauma of it all until Uncle Camp gave me an ice pop just to give my mouth something else to do.”
Iona chuckled. “Sounds like quite a memorable experience.”
“I remember,” Sadie said. “I ran upstairs to get Mama because I thought we were going to have to call an ambulance with how you were wailing.”
I lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “It hurt.”
Mother had come running. She’d taken one look at my tiny wound and told me that I was too old to be crying over thorns. She’d grumbled about now being behind on her work and stomped back up the stairs, leaving me behind with a whole lot of pain that hadn’t come from my injury.
I’d never again cried over a thorn. Or when I sliced my hand on a broken glass and had needed twenty stitches. Or when I fractured my wrist falling off my bike. Or when I lost my ability to have children.
I felt a nudge on my arm. Sadie’s elbow. Compassion glowed in her eyes. “Thanks for fussing.”
Ah, so she had remembered Mother’s reaction, too.
“Personally, I find that crying can be quite cathartic,” Iona said. “It’s better to let the pain out than hold it in, where it can fester and turn into something that will eat you up from the inside out.”
I felt that old pain festering now, deep in my chest, and suddenly my eyes burned with tears. I hadn’t had a good cry since … well, since that day with the thorn. I teared up plenty, because I couldn’t completely shut off my emotions, but a good, sobbing cry? No. Maybe it was time. Or maybe I was just too exhausted to fight everything I’d been holding in for so long.
The front door flew open and I heard, “Noni! I paint!” as Tuck came running inside, his bare feet thudding on the floor.
Uncle Camp reached in and shut the door, and I saw Bree rolling a tarp. She was a godsend, that girl.
“You painted?” Iona said with a clap of her hands. “What a big boy you are.”
He nodded as he sidled up to her to accept her hug.
Tuck’s gaze fell on the bucket perched on Sadie’s lap. “Owie?” he asked.
She pulled her hand from the water. “Nope. See? It’s all better.”
I grabbed her hand to look for myself and blinked. There was no sign of the remaining splinter and no redness. There wasn’t even an abrasion. It was as if she’d never had a splinter at all. I glanced at her.
Her smile was bright. And phony. “Those Epsom salts work wonders, don’t they?” she said.
I studied her closely, and she fidgeted. A ringing phone split the tightness in the air, and Sadie quickly put the bucket on the floor and pulled her phone from her pocket. “It’s Connor.” She answered quickly, then passed the phone to me.
“Hi.” I glanced at the clock. “Shouldn’t you be on your way home?”
“I’m so sorry, Leala,” he said. “I’m stuck at the office. I don’t think I can leave for another hour. Maybe two.”
I stood up to pace but anger rooted me to where I was. “Sadie and I are supposed to go to the hospital soon. Visiting hours are over at eight.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I just can’t—”
“No,” I said, cutting him off. “You won’t.”
His tone turned hard. “You don’t understand, Leala.”
“I understand just fine.” I glanced down when I felt Tuck’s arms wrap around my leg, and those damn tears welled up again as he looked up at me with worry in his deep blue eyes, the color an exact match to Connor’s eyes. I let out a deep breath. “Be careful on your way back. Bye.”
I hung up before I told him what I really wanted to say, which was to not bother coming back at all. I lifted up Tuck and turned to find Sadie and Iona giving me identical looks of sympathy.
It was almost too much to bear.
“Connor’s going to be late,” I announced. “An hour or two, which really means three or four.”
Iona stood up. “I can watch Tucker for you tonight. You two get on to the hospital as planned.”
Tuck clung to me. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
She gave me a smile brimming with kindness. “You didn’t ask. I volunteered.”
I swallowed hard.
“Uncle Camp will be here, too,” Sadie pointed out.
I looked toward the front porch. “Uncle Camp’s tired.”
“But I’m not,” Iona said. “I’ve had plenty of rest. I’ll take care of
them both. It’ll be my pleasure. Don’t argue now. Save your energy. You have a long night ahead of you yet.”
My emotions were stretched so thin I didn’t know how I was going to make it through what lay ahead, first with Mother, then with Connor. But as I looked into Iona’s kind eyes, I knew I couldn’t do it without help. “All right. Thank you.”
“We should probably clean ourselves up a little.” Sadie picked up the bucket of water and gave me a sympathetic shoulder bump as she passed by, heading toward the laundry room.
Iona stepped up next to me and patted my arm. “They’re not called growing pains for nothing, dear.”
I knew immediately she was referring to the water oaks and how they’d grown back together. But as I went to move Moo from the washer to the dryer, it didn’t feel like Connor and I were growing together at all.
It felt like we were only growing farther apart.
Chapter
19
Sadie
“She doesn’t need more flowers,” I said, trailing behind Leala as she speed-walked the Landing. “She has two dozen arrangements at home already.”
I’d been trying to talk sense into my sister for five minutes now, but she hadn’t really been listening. She’d been quiet since Connor’s phone call. Too quiet.
“Leala Clare!”
Leala abruptly stopped and faced me, lifting her sunglasses on top of her head. “What, Sadie? We need to hurry. Visiting hours aren’t going to wait for us.”
Wanting to groan in frustration, I held it in and repeated what I’d said only moments ago.
She crossed her arms and threw an exasperated glance toward the flower shop. “Well, she can’t have what she wants. Bourbon is out. Ice cream is out. Anything deep-fried is way out. We can’t show up empty-handed.”
I grabbed her arm. “Let’s go to the Crow’s Nest. We can pick out a couple of books. Maybe a few magazines. Stuff that will also keep her busy after she gets home. They have cute gift bags and cards there, too.”
“Fine. But we have to hurry. We’re late as is.”
She didn’t say “thanks to Connor,” but I heard it in her tone. We walked quickly down a set of stone stairs leading to the Lower Landing, which was a promenade that directly overlooked the lake. Dark clouds had rolled in, promising rain, and the temperature had dropped a notch. The threat hadn’t seemed to deter anyone from venturing out. Restaurant patios were full of diners, and the wide walkway was chock-full of people milling about. Boats sped across the water, creating waves with their wakes.
“I’m sure if Connor could get out of work, he would.” I don’t know why I felt the need to defend him, but I did. “He’s a high-powered attorney. There’s a lot expected of him.”
She didn’t look my way as she said, “It wasn’t supposed to be this way. He’d always wanted to join a small firm, one that respected work-life balance.”
“So why didn’t he?”
“The offer he received from the firm he’s with was too good to pass up. It allowed us to move here to Sugarberry Cove into a fancy house with a giant yard and a fenced-in pool. Perfect for raising a big family.” Her voice hardened, and she lowered her sunglasses again. “I quit my job to stay home with Tuck. We were blinded into thinking we had it all. But it all means nothing if we’re not happy. And we’re not happy. Neither one of us. And I don’t know how to fix it. Iona thinks all we need to do is bend a little, but I’m afraid we’re too brittle and are going to break.”
There was a lot to sort in what she said, but one thing in particular jumped out at me—how her tone had changed when talking about quitting her job. “Do you miss working?”
She glanced at me, and I wished I could see her eyes, but they were hidden behind dark lenses as she said, “Staying home with Tuck is what I’ve always wanted. I don’t want him raised like we were—feeling like part-time children while Mama worked herself into the ground.”
Mama, not Mother, I noted. This topic was breaking down her walls. “That’s not what I asked. Do you miss working?”
“Ah, here we are.” She pushed her sunglasses atop her head again and pulled on the door to the Crow’s Nest. A bell jingled a welcome, and Leala rushed inside like she couldn’t get away from me—or the conversation we were having—fast enough. Inside, she immediately veered right, toward the romance section.
The scent of old paper and black cherry from the specialty candles for sale brought a wave of nostalgia. I’d spent a lot of time in the shop, but the last time I’d been in here, I’d been with Will, picking out a few books to take with me to college. It had been three weeks before my accident.
A heavyset woman hurried from the back room, her dark hair twisted high on her head and secured with a yellow pencil. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me.
“Hey, y’all! It’s Sadie Scott!” Violet Swann declared, rushing forward, her arms wide, her teeth flashing bright against dark skin. “Good night! It’s been too long, Sadie.”
I smiled at her enthusiasm and stepped into the hug. At this point it was easier to accept them than try to discourage them. “How’ve you been, Miss Violet? How’s Max?” Her son had been two grades below me and had his mother’s infectious personality, loud laugh, and love of books.
“I’m just fine, and he’s just wonderful. Married now. And a daddy! Can you believe that? I know I look too young to be a grandma, but it’s true. I’ve got myself a grandson, cute as can be. Now let me look at you.” She scanned me head to toe and sighed. “I sure have missed your smiling face. I keep up with A Southern Hankerin’, but it’s just not the same as seeing you in person. I do so love those videos, though, so if that means you don’t visit as much, I guess that’s the price I’ve got to pay. I just wish there was a balance, do you know what I’m saying? I’d love to see you here more in Sugarberry Cove.”
Tears welled at the words. Her warm welcome was a far cry from the looks and whispers I’d heard when I came back home after quitting college. I blinked away the moisture from my eyes and said, “Thanks for watching. That means a lot to me.”
“Hey, y’all!” she repeated with a playful shove to my shoulder. “I seriously can’t get enough. Those videos hit me right in the heart. Some days, they remind me why life’s worth living.”
Leala, who’d been browsing a rack of paperbacks, glanced over her shoulder, her eyebrows drawn low as she listened in.
“Oh! And I’ve gotten some great recipes, too. I make”—Miss Violet snapped her fingers—“what’s the one woman’s name who made the beignets? The one down in Eufaula?”
“Marceline?”
She snapped her fingers again. “Marceline. Those beignets are divine.”
The rack squeaked and Miss Violet pivoted. “Leala Clare! I didn’t see you standing there, you sweet thing. How’s your darling Tucker?” Her jaw dropped and she pressed her hands to her chest. “Oh my heavens, listen to me go on. I’ve lost my fool head, yapping away. How’s your mama doing? Heard she had some stents put in. Will she be home soon?”
I wasn’t at all surprised she knew about the stents. Under its tourism, Sugarberry Cove was a small town. Everyone seemed to know everybody else’s business. It was the curse but also the blessing of a tight-knit community.
“She’s doing well. The doctor said she should be home on Wednesday. Leala and I are on our way to see her now at the hospital but thought she might like some books for her recovery. You know how she likes to read.”
“Boy howdy, do I.” Miss Violet zipped over to the romance section, gave the bookcases a quick perusal, and pulled three paperbacks from the shelves and handed them to Leala. “These here she’ll enjoy.”
Neither of us questioned how she knew Mama hadn’t read them yet. Miss Violet had never been wrong when it came to choosing books. Leala and I found a few magazines, a word search book, and a get-well card before carrying everything up to the register. When I reached for my wallet, Leala stepped in front of me and jammed her credit card into the reader, sign
ed the prompter, and accepted the bag Miss Violet held out.
“You girls give my best to Susannah. I know she’ll be right as rain in no time flat. There’s no keeping a woman like her down for long. And, Sadie, I’m just so proud of you I could bust. I knew you were destined for something glorious when you were saved by Lady Laurel, and I can’t help thinking she’s also proud of the person and storyteller you’ve become.”
Stunned, I could only stare.
“What is it, darlin’?” she asked, big brown eyes rounded in concern.
“I—” I shook my head, trying to sort my thoughts. “You think I was destined to do A Southern Hankerin’? That’s why I was saved?”
“Absolutely!” she said. “And I’m not the only one around here who thinks so. We all thought your storytellin’ skills would have you writing books one day, but when your beautiful heart shines through the screen, it’s obvious that’s what you were meant to do. You keep tellin’ those stories, Sadie Way. The world needs to hear them.”
Had A Southern Hankerin’ really been my destiny? All these years I’d been searching and the truth had been before me the whole time? I wanted to believe it—truly, I ached to believe it. But that bubble of pressure, the one deep down that hadn’t eased, told me I hadn’t found the answer quite yet.
Even still, my heart swelled with emotion with the thought that this town was proud of me. The shame of failure had followed me for so long now that it seemed it would always be part of me, my character, my future. But now? I felt like I’d been given a gift to treasure. The gift of letting that shame go.
Tears puddled in my eyes. “I will. Thank you, Miss Violet. For everything.”
Once outside, Leala gave me an odd look as we walked toward the parking lot at the far end of the Landing. “What?” I finally asked.
“Why’d Miss Violet say you were telling stories when your channel is about sharing recipes?”
“If you’d watch, you’d know.”
We took two steps before she added, “And why did she keep saying, ‘Hey, y’all’? Just like that one woman at the hardware store?”
The Lights of Sugarberry Cove Page 20