Gramps had insecurities? He’d always seemed so strong and brave. How could a man who’d raised Daddy to be a Marine, a hero, be anxious about anything?
He continued. “So instead of trusting you with the truth and trusting you’d love me in spite of my imperfections, I said nothing and kept those hard-earned lessons a secret tucked away deep in my heart,” he said. “And for that I’m sorry.”
“I guess none of us really belong on a pedestal, huh?” I leaned into him. “The truth of the matter is, I was mad at first. But…” I let out a slow breath, “I suppose it’s kinda like what you’re always telling me. Life is a journey, and who we are now isn’t necessarily who we will be, right?”
“You can say that again.”
I thought for a moment. “So I guess part of that journey also means who we once were isn’t necessarily who we are now.”
He stared into his coffee and let a small laugh escape his lips. “How’d you get to be so smart? But you know what? I wouldn’t change any of this mess for the world. Not from Tabby’s remains being uncovered to me being arrested. That sounds pretty crazy, doesn’t it?”
“Uh, yeah. How come?”
“Because those events showed you who I really was back then. And our past is part of that journey of life. I shouldn’t have tried to hide that. And, through it all, you still loved me. It takes a great amount of strength to love people for who they are, but even more to love them for who they aren’t. You’ve got strength in you, Coop.”
He gave my shoulder a final hug and cradled his mug with both hands. “So…what do you want know about your Gran or me? I’m an open book.”
“What was she like?”
He smiled. “She was remarkable. When we first met, I had no idea she came from money. She never held her wealth above other people. It wasn’t even until after I proposed that she told me about her inheritance. I never took her for an heiress.”
“Wow.” I guess that was another case of something not being what it first appeared to be. “What did you do?”
“Panicked a bit. I told her I didn’t want her thinking I was marrying her for her money. She told me I was being silly.”
“How’d y’all meet?”
He smiled at the memory. “We sat next to each other the first day of some art history course.”
I rubbed my hands together. “Is that when you started gambling? When you were in college?”
He let out a small laugh. “I didn’t have two nickels to rub together in college. It wasn’t until we married and moved back here that I started gambling.”
“Why? You obviously didn’t need the money.”
Gramps nodded. “You’re right. It started off just as a way to relax, blow off steam. Your daddy had just been born, and things were chaotic at home. One night, Earl invited me to a poker game with some other guys. It was fun. Then, instead of one night a week, it was two or three. Then I started betting on football games, horse races. Any sport on TV really. But all it did was create problems. Not financial ones, although I’m not stupid enough to think that wouldn’t have eventually happened.” He let out a long breath of air. “The gambling caused problems in our marriage. In our relationship.”
“Did Gran know?”
“At first, no one except Earl knew. He handled my bets.”
“How’d she find out?” I asked.
Gramps stared out at the field. “I accidently left some gambling slips in my pocket. She was so upset when she found them. We yelled. Said terrible things to each other.”
I’d seen the vein pop out in Gramps’s neck when he got mad, but I’d never heard him yell before. He must’ve been a totally different person all those years ago.
“She threatened to take Steven unless I got my act together.” He sat quietly for a moment. “When she said those words, it felt like I was being swallowed by darkness. She and your dad were my world. I don’t know what I would’ve done if they weren’t part of it.” He picked up his mug and took a drink. “I promised her that day I’d never again gamble. Our family was too precious to me.”
The realization of his words hit me. “I’ll be right back. Wait here.”
I ran inside and up to my room. In my bookcase, tucked inside the middle pages of Gran’s journal, was the small repaired wedding photo of Gran and Gramps. The one with Never Again scrawled across the back. I jogged back down the stairs and outside.
“This is yours.” I laid the photo in his hand then leaned against the column of the porch.
“Good Lord.” Gramps looked up at me in surprise. “Where did you find this?”
“It was all in pieces—caught behind your sock drawer. I taped them back together. It was that day I got suspended for fighting. I was worried maybe it had something to do with Gran’s murder.”
Gramps flipped the photo over and brushed his fingers across the message. He let out a big huff of air. “The day Tabby ‘ran away’ I sat in my office at the clinic and pulled this photo from my wallet. I wrote those words on the back, then slid it in right next to my money as a reminder of the promise I’d made to Tabby.” He shook his head. “But she never knew I did that. I came home that evening and found she’d left… I got mad.” He let out a big puff of air. “I ripped the photo to shreds. I have no idea how all the pieces ended up shoved behind the dresser drawer.”
A trail of ants wrapped around the bottom of the column and moved toward my coffee mug.
“What about her money? What did you do with it all?”
“I kept expecting her to withdraw it. But she never touched it…obviously. Then I figured she meant for me to use it to take care of your daddy, so I hired a housekeeper. She watched him for me while I was at the practice until he was older. Then I put the remainder in a trust for him. He got everything after he married.” Gramps tussled my hair. “It went to your mama when he died. That was how she first opened the coffee shop.”
It had never occurred to me how Mama was able to afford the renovations to turn her coffee shop into A Latté Books.
I picked up my mug. “How come you never remarried?”
Gramps sat still, his hands interlaced and resting across his lap. “I kept hoping Tabby would come back. I never gave up that dream.”
The ants circled around where my coffee cup used to be, probably wondering where it went. I dipped my finger into my cup and let a few drops fall on the sidewalk. No one should be completely without coffee in the morning. Not even ants.
My thoughts drifted to Miss Ruth. I’d always thought she was a kind, sweet lady. She’d remembered my birthday and Christmas each year. Baked me cookies. Just like a grandma.
One more reminder that the strongest of hearts may be dragged down by the biggest burdens, the meanest of people often hide the deepest hurts, and the kindest of eyes can disguise the cruelest secrets.
“Gramps?”
“Hmm?”
“What will happen to Miss Ruth?”
He let out a long sigh. “Oh, Coop. She’s guilty of murder, and over the years she stole thousands of dollars. She’s looking at serious prison time. For how long is up to the judge. Meriwether’s visiting her now. She may even move to be closer to the prison.”
“Did you ever feel bad for not marrying Miss Ruth?”
Gramps looked over the field. “I didn’t know what real love was when I gave her that promise ring. We were just kids. I should have called things off much sooner—before she got hurt—but instead I took the coward’s way out by just showing up with Tabby.” He turned to me. “It doesn’t excuse Ruth’s actions, but maybe it helps explain them a bit. I don’t know.”
“How about Earl?”
“Earl, Earl, Earl.” Gramps rubbed the back of his neck. “Hiding a body, not reporting a death, obstruction of justice—the list goes on. Either way, he’s headed to jail too.”
“I’m just glad me an
d my friends aren’t looking at jail time for ‘interfering.’”
Gramps chuckled. “I, for one, am glad you interfered. And I’m really glad you and Beau are getting on.” He stood and pulled me in for a hug. “Any other questions for me?”
I wiggled away. “Maybe later. Right now, I want to finish my breakfast.”
“Boys and food.” Gramps followed me inside. “Your daddy nearly ate me out of house and home.”
Tick and Mama sat across from each other at the kitchen table, holding hands and talking quietly. Mama looked up and grinned. “Y’all have a good chat?”
“Yes ma’am.” I reached for my half-eaten waffle. “Did y’all?”
She pulled her hand away from Tick’s and held it out to me. A ring sparkled on her finger. Her face could barely contain the huge smile she gave me. It was something I hadn’t seen in a long time. “Oh yeah. We had a good chat.”
* * *
Gran’s funeral was at the end of the week. The whole town, minus Miss Ruth, Miss Meriwether, and Earl, showed up to pay their respects. Even Angus came, though his doctor said he had to return to the hospital once the service finished. He’d woken from his coma but still had to spend a couple more days under observation. Beau was going to stay with us until then.
Burma attended the funeral but left straight after to visit his sister in Texas. Miss Ruth’s murder confession had left him reeling, and I think his time away was more to nurse his broken heart than to relax. If a stranger passed through Windy Bottom during the service, they might’ve mistakenly thought it was one of Burma’s loved ones who had died, the way he was carrying on and crying—and, I suppose, in his own way, he was mourning the loss of a loved one.
Mama, Tick, and I returned home ahead of Gramps. Mama wanted to give him some time alone at Gran’s grave site. Her proper grave site, not some hole under a playground slide. Judging from the hidden surface of our kitchen counter, the Windy Bottom Compassion League must’ve put in overtime. It wasn’t until that evening, when things settled down, that I felt I could breathe normal again.
Justice and Liberty came over to toss a ball with Beau and me.
Beau perched on the steps. “So Vidler and your mama are getting hitched, huh?”
“Yep.” I threw to Liberty. “It’s about time too.”
Liberty caught the ball and shook her head before winding up to toss to Justice. “Weddings. They’re mushy.”
“Maybe,” Beau said, “but having Vidler for a dad will have its perks.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?” Justice wrapped his mitt around the ball, then threw to me.
I tossed it to Lib.
Beau grinned. “I mean, if we help solve another crime, do you think he’d arrest his own kid for interfering?”
I laughed.
Lib threw a knuckleball to Justice.
Beau turned to her. “Sweet arm, Lib.”
“Thanks.”
Justice looked at his sister. “Did you…did you just…blush?”
“No.” She swore and adjusted her ponytail. “And unless you want to experience my umbrage, you’d better watch it.”
Justice threw me the ball, then he whipped out his pocket dictionary.
The sun had already sunk below the horizon, but the sky still held on to a pale blue light. A mosquito buzzed by my head, and I swatted it away. It wouldn’t be long before cooler weather froze them into nonexistence. But as I looked at my friends in the soft evening glow, I felt all warm inside and full of hope.
Hope that one day Justice wouldn’t be a complete moron when it came to vocabulary. And I was pretty confident Beau and I had stumbled onto a path, of some sort, toward becoming friends. I could even hope that Lib—nah, Lib would never willingly wear a dress or give up cursing.
Who we really were and who we’d eventually become remained to be seen, but I felt pretty sure we’d all be okay.
Acknowledgments
So many people to thank! First and foremost, my husband, David—you are the king of timelines and catching incongruities. Thank you for setting aside the many hours to help make my work better. My daughter, Jireh, who let me pester her with questions constantly and who showed great patience as I bounced ideas off her. Elenna, thank you for the many hours keeping me company at Starbucks. You are my writing (and coffee) companion. And Nathan, whether you know it or not—you’ve given my characters many funny conversations.
Thank you also to Sergeant Keith Vidler of the Orange County Sheriff’s Office and to John Maxwell of the Winter Springs Police Department for answering all my questions about police and crime scene procedures.
Thank you, Rick Foley, Pharm.D. for putting up with my bizarre questions about various poisons (and for not thinking I was a danger to society)!
And of course a work is never finished until it has gone through the many hands of my fellow Inkstigators: Charlotte Hunter, Leslie Santamaria, Marcea Ustler, Ruth Owen, Jan Eldredge, and Amy Paulshock. This book wouldn’t see the light of day if it weren’t for y’all. Thank you also to all my Word Weaver friends for your critiques and suggestions.
James Ponti—thank you for taking time to read and help out a fellow author. Your words of encouragement meant the world to me.
And a special thank-you to Kathy Grupe, Reba Gordon, and Kristin Willis for beta reading the early drafts. There’s nothing scarier than turning words over to librarians for critique!
Last and certainly not least, thank you Sally Apokedak for your patience and thoughtful guidance throughout this book. I am so honored to be able to call you my agent, but even more so to call you my friend.
About the Author
Taryn Souders graduated from the University of North Texas with a specialization in mathematics. She is the author of Whole-y Cow! Fractions Are Fun, How to (Almost) Ruin Your Summer, and Dead Possums Are Fair Game. She lives in Sorrento, Florida, with her family. Visit her at tarynsouders.com.
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