“At least. I got it from the Dollar Store. It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
“It’s pretty huge.”
“I’m sure we’re up to the challenge.” Grace turned each glass upside down and dipped the rim into the pitcher, then into the salt. She poured them each a drink, the ice tinkling noisily against the sides of the glasses.
Sarah took a sip and almost choked. “That’s a little strong, don’t you think?”
“No.” Grace sat back beside Sarah and took a sip. “It tastes perfect to me, but then, I’m not a lightweight like you.”
Sarah had to smile. “I don’t have your experience.”
“It’s a good thing I made so much, then, isn’t it?” Grace took another drink. “Darn, but I’m a good margarita maker. Want to know my secret? Practice, practice, practice. That and pay for the good mix.”
Sarah took another sip, enjoying the fresh tang of the margarita. It was cozy here at Grace’s. The fire crackled, and the light from the living room lamps made golden circles over the side tables, brightening up the room darkened by the growing storm outside. A tiny bit of the hurt in Sarah’s heart eased. It wasn’t much, but it gave her hope, and she needed that right now. She caught Grace’s concerned gaze and held up her glass. “This is the best margarita I’ve ever had.”
“I have talents.” Grace leaned back, her gaze still on Sarah’s face. “But I wish I knew how to help you.”
Sarah set her margarita on the coffee table. “I feel like I can’t trust myself anymore. I couldn’t tell Ava was lying, and I know her better than anyone else. How will I know when other people are lying to me?”
Outside, rain came down in sheets, pattering against the window. Grace placed her drink on the table beside Sarah’s. “I’ve told you about my sister, Hannah.”
Sarah nodded. She’d never met Grace’s sister, a longtime addict who’d died of an overdose just before Grace had moved to Dove Pond.
“The more Hannah fell into drugs, the more of a liar she became. She’d lie about what happened to her money, about why she was evicted from this place or that, about why she needed bail money, about why she needed to drop Daisy off and why she didn’t come back to get her when she’d promised.” Grace sighed. “She told so many lies, I can’t remember them all. The first few times it happened, I felt just the way you do right now, that there was something wrong with me that I couldn’t tell when she was lying. But once I accepted that was exactly what she was doing—lying just to get her way—I never fell for it again.”
“You think I’ll know if Ava lies to me again?”
“I do. You’re immune from here on out. Every time she tells you anything, you’ll wonder if it’s true. And in wondering, you’ll know.”
“I hope so. I hate that. I don’t want to wonder if she’s telling the truth, but you’re right, that’s exactly what I’ll do.” Sarah’s eyes burned once more. “She and I will never be the same, will we?”
“Not for a while,” Grace agreed regretfully. “It’s possible, though, if you and she do the right things, that you’ll get back to normal. Maybe even better.”
“Better? How?”
“It was taking a toll on her. We all saw it, but, like you, we thought she was just worried about the tearoom. Now it’s plain as day she was feeling guilty. She didn’t blithely lie to you and then merrily go about her business. She hated what she’d done. She just didn’t have the strength to face disappointing you.”
Sarah supposed that made sense. “Ava’s a perfectionist. I guess that comes with a cost.”
“Oh boy, does it.” Grace reclaimed her glass. “Overachievers carry their own burdens.”
Sarah dropped her gaze to her own margarita, absently admiring the reflection of the crackling fire in the curved glass. What Grace said explained a lot, but right now, Sarah couldn’t think her way through it. All she could do was feel. She was so wrung out, so emotionally exhausted that all she wanted to do was climb into bed, pull the covers over her head, and never get back up.
A car pulled into the driveway, and Grace put her drink down. “There’s Daisy. She went to Paw Printz after school to help Maggie Mayhew with her grooming appointments. Maggie said she’d drop Daisy off once they were done.”
Grace got up and went to the door. As she opened it, the sound of the rain grew louder. She looked out and then yelled, “Daisy, your raincoat won’t work if you don’t put up the hood.”
Daisy stomped across the front porch, and Sarah heard her say, “I didn’t know it was raining that hard.” Her hair plastered to her head, Daisy dropped her backpack on the floor, peeled off her raincoat, and flung it over the coatrack by the door, water splattering over the entryway.
“Daisy!” Grace said, giving her niece a flat look.
“Sorry,” Daisy muttered.
“Take off those boots. I don’t want the rug to get wet too.”
Daisy wrinkled her nose but did as she was told. She was small for her age and had messy blond hair and blue eyes, which made her look just like Grace.
Daisy dropped her boots by the door, opened her backpack, and pulled out a book.
“How was school?” Grace asked.
“Okay, I guess.” Daisy walked toward the kitchen, stopping when she saw Sarah curled up on the couch. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Sarah waved at Daisy. “I bet you’re surprised to find me here.”
“Mrs. Mayhew said you’d be here.” Daisy wiped water from her forehead where it dripped from her hair. “She said you had a fight with Ava, who should be ashamed of herself.”
Oh dear. Grace was right; word is getting around fast. Sarah forced a smile and nodded at the book under Daisy’s arm. “Is that the book I gave you? Children of Blood and Bones?”
“This is my history book. Aunt Grace won’t let me take library books to school, so it’s upstairs under my pillow.”
“When you finish the library book, let me know what you think.”
“So far, it’s really, really good. Sort of violent, but I like that.”
“You would,” Grace said drily. “By the way, it’s bath day. Since you’re already wet, why don’t you hop in before dinner?”
Daisy scrunched up her nose. “Can’t I wait until tomorrow?”
“Not if you want to eat the pizza I’m about to order.”
Daisy rolled her eyes. “Fine. But I’m not washing my hair.”
“Yes, you are. Sarah and I will be right here when you finish.”
“Okay,” Daisy said glumly, dragging her feet as she walked to the stairs.
“Hey, Daisy,” Sarah called after her.
Daisy looked back over her shoulder.
“When I had to take a bath and didn’t want to, I used to take every pot and pan in the kitchen into the tub with me and pretend to cook.”
Daisy brightened and looked at Grace.
Grace eyed Sarah sourly. “Whose side are you on?”
“Fun’s.” Sarah took a sip of her margarita.
“Can I?” Daisy asked her aunt.
Grace was still looking at Sarah. “Do you promise to wash all the pots and pans she uses?”
Sarah held out her pinkie.
Grace sighed, but she hooked her pinkie with Sarah’s and shook it. “Okay, Daisy. Just a few.”
“YAY!” Daisy darted into the kitchen, and they soon heard banging and crashing as she went through the cupboards.
“Nothing that’s glass,” Grace yelled.
“Okay,” came back a muffled reply.
Sarah was just taking another sip of her margarita when Daisy staggered by, carrying a ton of pots and pans and wooden spoons. Sarah watched the eleven-year-old navigate the stairs and disappear from sight. “Wow. That’s impressive.”
“If I could only get her to carry her laundry basket like that. She says it’s too heavy and hurts her back.”
“Ha!”
“I know, right?” Grace picked up her margarita glass once more. “Speaking of promises, I want one from you
.”
Sarah, just about to take another drink, lowered her glass. “Yes?”
“Stay here at least two weeks before you start looking for an apartment.”
“Grace, thank you, but I—”
“Hear me out. You need a little time to think things through and decide what it is you really want to do.”
“I’m not moving back in with Ava.”
“I know. I wouldn’t expect you to. But after what’s happened, you need to heal before you make any decisions.”
Sarah took another drink, surprised to note that her glass now held more ice than margarita. “Are you sure you don’t mind me being here?”
“I love you being here. You already know how Daisy and Trav feel about it. You and Trav have been friends since elementary school, and you won Daisy over just now. She’ll be your best friend for at least a week. You’ll need another trick for the second week, but I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” Grace picked up the pitcher and refilled Sarah’s glass.
“I guess it can’t hurt to wait a while. But not too long.”
“That’s settled, then. There’s just one more thing.” Grace set the pitcher down, her clear brown gaze meeting Sarah’s. “Blake. You need to talk to him.”
Sarah lowered her glass. “I can’t! You’ve seen what happens. Every time I try to talk to him, I… I… I freeze up like a… a… a… oh, heck, I don’t even know what freezes up like I do! Or, worse, words just pile up and then I erupt like a word volcano.”
“Sarah, that isn’t you. It never was. And now you know that.”
“But it doesn’t change anything.”
“Doesn’t it? How will you know if you don’t try?”
Sarah lifted her glass and took a nervous gulp. Could she? Should she? “I don’t know, Grace. Even if I could, he made it clear that he never wants to talk to me again. And what if things are exactly the same? What if I just freeze up and can’t speak? And then he’ll be mad and I’ll be embarrassed—”
“Which is exactly where you are today, so…” Grace shrugged. “It can’t get worse, can it?”
Sarah didn’t know if that was true, but she was too tired to think of worse scenarios. “I suppose.”
“Just think about it. Like I said, don’t make any decisions right now. But, Sarah, if you don’t at least try, then that evil tonic will have won. And I don’t think it should.” Grace stood, put her empty glass on the tray, and picked it up. “Come on. We’ll finish this pitcher in the kitchen while I set the table. We’ll order pizza once Daisy’s out of the tub.”
Sarah agreed, and with a sigh she stood and slowly followed Grace into the kitchen. She didn’t want to talk to Blake or Ava or anyone else right now. But somewhere inside, a small part of her agreed that at some point, she had to talk to Blake again. Even if it was just to apologize for pulling him into a Dove family argument. Why, oh why, did I call him?
Her gaze drifted to the kitchen window where the rain slashed down. Through the hedge, she could just make out the porch of her own house.
She was going to have to face the fears Ava’s tonic had caused. Face them and defeat them, if it could be done. Even more troubling, she was going to have to do it alone. She no longer had Ava by her side. Not now, nor would she ever.
Her heart heavy, Sarah turned away from the window and tried to rest her burning eyes.
CHAPTER 15 Kristen
Kristen put her book bag down just inside the tearoom door and hung up her jacket.
Ava looked up from where she was on the phone and gave a short, unsmiling wave, then turned back to the notepad in front of her. “Of course,” Ava said to the caller. “I understand, but I—” She grimaced as the person on the other end of the phone interrupted her.
A week ago, Ava and her sister Sarah had had some sort of a fight. Kristen didn’t know the exact details, as there were a myriad of stories racing around town, all of them different, but whatever happened, Ava seemed shaken.
Kristen nodded at Dylan, who was on a ladder in the back of the shop putting light bulbs in the new brass-and-crystal light fixtures.
His gaze slid from Kristen to Ava and back. Kristen could tell he was worried.
“I understand,” Ava said to the person on the phone. “Of course not. I— Yes. I know. Goodbye.” She hung up the phone and added another name to her list. When she finished, she threw the pen down and rubbed her hands together, as if they ached.
Aware of Kristen’s gaze, Ava stuffed her hands into her pockets and forced a stiff smile. “Good afternoon. Would you mind filling the napkin holders on the tables?”
“Will do. I—”
The phone rang, and they all looked at it.
It rang again.
Ava started to move toward it, but hesitated. The phone rang again, sounding shriller with each ring.
She dropped her hand back to her side, a defeated expression on her face.
“I’ll get it.” Dylan climbed down from his ladder. “I’ll tell them you’re busy. You have a lot going on today and—”
Ava spun on her heel and disappeared into the kitchen. As the door swung shut behind her, the phone rang two more times and then stopped.
Kristen glanced at Dylan. “More cancellations.”
He nodded morosely. “I’ve only been here an hour, and that’s about the fifteenth one. Whatever happened between her and Sarah, it’s shattered Ava’s reputation.”
“Stupid people. Don’t they remember all the good things she’s done?” Kristen went to a small stack of boxes near the rows of tables and found the one marked NAPKINS in Ava’s neat handwriting.
“They’re dropping like flies. Four of them canceled their landscaping contracts, too, and one of them had been using Ava’s service since she first started it.”
Kristen went from table to table and filled the napkin holders. “The tearoom is scheduled to open next month. Ava should be focused on that. Instead she’s dealing with…” Kristen glanced at the kitchen door. “It’s not fair.”
The phone rang again, and Kristen glared at it.
“I’ll get it.” Dylan wiped his hands on his jeans and strode to the phone. “Hello? Oh. Hi, Mrs. Meyer. This is Dylan Fraser. I—” He listened a moment. “No, Ava’s not available right now. Should I—”
Kristen could hear Mrs. Meyer’s high-pitched voice even from where she stood across the room.
Dylan’s expression darkened. “No, I don’t know what happened between Ava and Sarah. Whatever it was, I’m sure they’ll work it out.”
Mrs. Meyer apparently didn’t agree, because as she spoke, Dylan grew redder and redder. Finally, he broke in. “That doesn’t make sense! You just said you don’t know what happened between them either, or who was at fault, but you’re canceling your—”
Mrs. Meyer interrupted him. The second she paused for breath, he said shortly, “I’ll let her know. Goodbye.”
He slammed the phone back into place. “You’re right. They’re stupid idiots!” He scribbled Mrs. Meyer’s name on the list, threw the pen down, then stalked back to his ladder. “Fools, the lot of them. Ava’s worked her fingers to the bone for this town and now this.” He moved the ladder to a new location and collected two more boxes of light bulbs. “She’s too good for them. She always has been.”
Kristen unwrapped a new package of napkins, the thin plastic loud in the quiet that followed. “I don’t know what Ava’s going to do.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t know what Mrs. Meyer’s husband is going to do, either. He takes that tea to help with his arthritis. We go to the same church, and I’ve heard Mrs. Meyer brag about Ava’s tea and how much it helps her poor Robert and how they don’t know what they’d do without it.” Dylan climbed up the ladder, slapped his screwdriver onto the top rung, and opened the box of light bulbs. “I’ll wager my last dollar the Meyers will be back as soon as Robert’s in pain. When the people of this town find themselves lying awake at night, hurting too much to sleep, they’ll all be back.”
Kristen pulled another napkin holder forward and started loading it. “Has Ava told you what happened? You two are close, so…” Kristen shrugged.
He unscrewed the light fixture and lowered the cover. “We’re not as close as I’d like.”
She shot him a startled look. She’d suspected he had a thing for Ava. What red-blooded guy wouldn’t? But she was surprised to hear him admit it like that.
Now that Kristen thought about it, Dylan and Ava had a lot in common. They’d both grown up here and seemed destined to stay in Dove Pond forever. Kristen supposed Dylan was decent-looking for an older guy, if a little basic, although Missy would have argued vehemently about that.
Kristen opened another package of napkins. “So you like Ava.”
His eyebrows knit as if he regretted sharing that little tidbit. After a minute, he shrugged. “We’ve been friends a long time.” He retrieved his screwdriver and returned the glass-and-brass holder to its place. “Before you go getting any ideas, though, we’re only friends.”
He glanced at the kitchen door and then added in a regretful voice, “At least for now.”
Kristen finished stocking the last napkin holder. They’d make a cute couple, Ava short and blond and Dylan tall, auburn-haired, and with a serious beard. “You should ask her out. It might cheer her up.”
“What? No! I should wait for all this to blow over. She’s too upset to think of anything else right now.”
He looked uneasy, and Kristen thought she knew why. He was worried Ava would say no. Kristen couldn’t fault him for that. It had been more than a week since she’d “interviewed” Nate Stevens to see if he might possibly be her dad, which had been a total waste of time, not to mention embarrassing. Since then, despite Josh and Missy’s best efforts, Kristen had come up with dozens of excuses not to move on to the next possible “dad” on her short list.
Missy and Josh had grown frustrated with her inaction and were insistent that she interview their next target, Jack Lind, the property manager with the “sweet ride,” as Josh called it. Kristen wasn’t looking forward to it, but she had finally agreed it had to be done. No one gets how bad this could turn out. What if he and Grandma Ellen like each other and work together against me? I’ll be trapped then. There were so many things that could go wrong.
A Cup of Silver Linings Page 22