Starting Over In Wickham Falls (Wickham Falls Weddings Book 9)

by Rochelle Alers

  “Yes. It’s only six hours and if I hang around the house, I’ll go stir-crazy.”

  Evelyn glanced up over her reading glasses. “Bruce, the store is not going to fall down if you don’t go in.”

  “You tell him, Mom. It didn’t fall apart when you guys were gone.”

  “I’m still going in,” Bruce said under his breath as he walked out of the kitchen.

  Georgina threw up a hand. “Mom, please talk to your husband.”

  Evelyn took off her glasses. “I’m going to do better than that. I’m going in with him and when he falls and hits his hard head, I’m going to call the EMTs and tell them to take him to the county hospital for observation. Your daddy doesn’t know how to slow down and relax.”

  She had to agree with Evelyn. Her father ate, slept and breathed Powell’s, and he did believe it would fall apart if he wasn’t there to oversee it. And Georgina did not want to believe her mother had planned to go into the store. Perhaps going away had given Evelyn time to reflect on how she’d been living her life, cut off from the outside world, while she’d continued to dwell on the past.

  “Do you want me to cook something that will last you for a few days?”

  Evelyn shook her head. “No. It’s been a while since your father and I have gone out for dinner. You’ve done enough while we were gone, and now it’s time for you to relax.”

  Georgina smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”

  Now that she didn’t have to go to work, she planned to go to the supermarket and shop for groceries to take to the guesthouse. She’d also bought a set of cookware and kitchen utensils she wanted to use when preparing her meals.

  Evelyn returned her smile. “I see from the photographs in The Sentinel that you and Langston look like a real couple. I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you before you left the house, but you are absolutely beautiful in the photos.”

  “Thank you, Mom,” she repeated. “I must say we had a lot of fun.”

  “Langston has always been a nice boy.”

  Georgina wanted to remind Evelyn that Langston was no longer a boy, but a man. Albeit a man she’d found extremely attractive. “Yes, he is,” she said.

  She did not know what had occurred between her parents in Hawaii to elicit a change in her mother’s temperament where she had become the woman with whom Georgina was familiar when she was a child, but she had no intention of asking either of them. She would wait and see for them to tell her where they’d gone, what they’d seen and if they planned to return soon.

  “I brought you something back that I think you’ll like, but you’re going to have to wait for me to unpack,” Evelyn said.

  “You didn’t have to do that, Mom.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  Georgina wasn’t about to argue with her mother now that they seemed to have called a truce. “Take your time unpacking. I need to do several loads of laundry, so if you have something that needs to go in the wash, then leave it the laundry room.”

  Evelyn closed the newspaper. “When are you moving into your new place?”

  “Tomorrow. After I leave the store I’m going directly to the house.”

  “Why don’t you take off tomorrow and take the day to settle in?”

  Georgina went completely still; she could not believe her mother was urging her to take a day off. “Who’s going to help Dad?”

  “I will. Things haven’t changed so much that I don’t know how to run the store. In fact, I’m going in for a few hours this afternoon to look after your father. There were times when he really overdid it when we were in Hawaii. I’d tried to convince him to slow down, but he wanted to hike trails to see volcanos, pineapple plantations and waterfalls. The first few days he was so sunburned that I suspected he had second degree burns, but you know he’s stubborn as a mule and when he sets his mind on something it’s almost impossible to get him to change it.”

  “You knew that, Mom, even before you married him.”

  Evelyn lowered her eyes. “You’re right, and I suppose I have to accept what cannot be changed.”

  “We all have to accept what we cannot change,” Georgina said in a quiet tone.

  Evelyn slipped off the bench seat and approached her. If her mother’s attitude had changed, so had her overall appearance. She’d gained weight, her face had filled out and the permanent frown that had settled into her features was no longer evident. It had taken more than a week and six thousand miles away from Wickham Falls for grief to release its relentless grip on Evelyn Powell.

  “If you need my help setting up things, just let me know.”

  Georgina hugged her mother, and then pressed a kiss to her hair. “Thanks for offering, but I’ve been going over to the house every few days to put things away.”

  Evelyn wrapped her arms around Georgina’s waist. “I know I’ve haven’t told you, but I am so proud of you, baby. It probably wasn’t easy for you to accept that you weren’t going to go to art school, yet you stepped up to help your father run the store. He never would’ve been able to do it without you.”

  She wanted to tell her mother that her husband could have done it with his wife but did not want to ruin the fragile truce forming between them. That if Evelyn had gone back to work after a period of mourning, Georgina knew she would not be planning to move into a guesthouse on the Remington property. But unlike her mother, who’d allowed herself to wallow in the past, she was looking forward.

  Once she’d made the decision to open A Stitch at a Time, Georgina was forced to admit to herself that attending art school may not have been best for her future, because she would have to work for someone else. Opening a business in her hometown where she could be her own boss was heady indeed. It would become a one-woman operation and she looked forward to reconnecting with the loyal customers who’d patronized Powell’s arts and crafts department.

  “We’re family and because of that we’ll always stick together,” Georgina said instead.

  Evelyn eased back. “Speaking of family, I spoke to my sister yesterday and she said she’s thinking about selling her house and buying a one-bedroom condo. Michelle claims she doesn’t need a house with three bedrooms when she’s the only one living there. She never would admit it, but I think she’s trying to get rid of some of her deadbeat friends who like to hang out at her place.”

  “That’s because Aunt Michelle is a lightning rod for the downtrodden.”

  “Like Sutton’s father,” Evelyn spat out, twisting her mouth as if she’d tasted something too salty or acidic. “I’d tried to tell her he was no good, but she refused to listen until she discovered she was pregnant, and then he took off like an antelope being chased by a cheetah.”

  Georgina smiled. “She’s lucky because Sutton is a wonderful son.”

  “You’re right,” Evelyn agreed. “When I asked Michelle what Sutton’s going to do now that he’s done playing ball, she said she didn’t know.”

  I know, Georgina thought. Sutton has sworn her to secrecy because he wanted to return to life as a private citizen with as little fanfare as possible. “You know Sutton never really liked the spotlight.”

  “That’s because he’s always been a very private person. When was the last time you spoke to him?” Evelyn asked her.

  “Several weeks ago,” she answered truthfully. Not only was Sutton her first cousin, but he was also the closest thing she had to an older brother. And he’d always made himself available to her whenever she needed to vent. She’d leave a message on his voice mail, and even when traveling to another city for a game he would get back to her, offering words of encouragement while volunteering to intervene on her behalf to convince his aunt to allow her to follow her dream. Georgina had declined because she didn’t want to start a rift between Sutton and Evelyn.

  “Did he say anything about staying in Atlanta?”

  “No.” She hadn’t lied to her mothe
r because Sutton did not talk about staying but leaving Atlanta.

  “I’m going upstairs to get dressed, because I don’t want your father to leave without me.”

  Georgina stared at her mother’s back as she walked out of the kitchen. It would take time for her to get used to Evelyn agreeing to help her husband at the store when she’d balked at it for years. She would arbitrarily walk into Powell’s to pick up something she needed, and then walk out without interacting with any of the employees, who’d gotten used to her appearing and disappearing like an apparition. Not working Sunday and Monday would free Georgina up to move in and adjust to her new home.

  A shiver of excitement swept over her as she experienced a fathomless peace and satisfaction that all was right with her life.

  * * *

  Langston printed a copy of the town hall agenda for the first Wednesday in the month meeting that was open to the public. The mayor and deputy mayor would begin with opening remarks, followed with reports from commissioners overseeing the highway, fire department, power and light/emergency management, police and the building inspector. The meeting was scheduled to begin at 8:00 p.m. at the town hall, and usually ended before ten. Residents were always encouraged to attend and get involved in important community gatherings that directly affected them. The mayor had instituted an open-door policy where locals were welcomed to voice their concerns.

  A light knock on the door garnered his attention. Swiveling on the executive chair, he saw the office manager standing in the doorway. “Yes, Sharon.”

  Sharon Williams walked into the office, closing the door behind her. “I need to talk to you about something that I’d like to stay between us.”

  Langston rose slightly, staring at the woman in her early fifties who always looked as if she’d stepped off the glossy pages of a fashion magazine. She favored suits, either with skirts or slacks, tailored blouses and her favored Ferragamo pumps. Her jewelry of a single strand of pearls and matching studs never varied from one day to the next. And no one knew the length of the brunette hair she always wore in a twist on the nape of her neck.

  “Please sit down. And whatever you tell me will stay between us.”

  Sharon sat, nervously clasping and unclasping her fingers. She lowered hazel eyes before meeting Langston’s steady gaze. “I wanted to wait until everyone left to give you notice that I will be leaving the paper in three weeks.”

  Langston slumped in his chair, replaying her words in his head and not realizing he’d been holding his breath until he felt restriction in his chest. “Why?”

  “I’m getting married.”

  He was certain Sharon heard his exhalation of relief. “Congratulations!”

  “Thank you, Langston. Not only am I getting married, but I will be moving to Ohio for a year.”

  Her mentioning Ohio reminded him why she’d informed that she was leaving the paper. He ran a hand over his face. “To say I’m shocked is putting it mildly.”

  Sharon smiled. “So was I when John asked me to marry him.”

  Langston recalled Sharon telling him that she’d reconnected with an ex-college boyfriend on Facebook and had driven to Ohio for Christmas to reunite with him. Now, five months later, she’d accepted his marriage proposal. “But why a year?”

  Sharon’s lids fluttered. “I tried to convince him to come here to live, but he has one more year before he can retire after thirty years of teaching.”

  “What aren’t you telling me?” he asked when she nervously chewed her lip.

  “I’d like you to approve a leave of absence for a year for me, because once John retires, we plan to move to the Falls.”

  Langston blew out his cheeks. Sharon was too valuable an employee to deny her request. He also planned to ask one of the part-timers if they were willing to come on full-time during Sharon’s absence. “Take the year and make certain you don’t forget to come back,” he teased.

  “Thank you, Langston. I promise we’ll be back as soon as his school term ends. Meanwhile, I’m going to tell Mrs. Reilly to list my house as a rental until I return.”

  “Even though I’m happy for you, you have to know I don’t want to see you go.”

  “And I really don’t want to go, but I don’t want to miss a chance to have my happily-ever-after.”

  Langston smiled despite his disappointment, because he had come to depend on Sharon from overseeing the office staff to maintaining the books. Once he assumed ownership of the paper, Sharon had become his mentor, shepherding him through every column of the biweekly for the past year, while they brainstormed how to make the periodical more reader friendly. Working as a foreign correspondent was not the same as running a newspaper, and The Sentinel’s office manager had proved to be invaluable to and for him.

  “Should I assume you don’t want the staff to know you’re leaving?”

  “Yes, because I don’t like saying goodbye. Can you tell everyone that I had to go away for a while to take care of personal business?”

  “I’ll tell them whatever you want, Sharon. After all, you are entitled to your privacy.”

  Sharon pushed to her feet. “Thank you, Langston. I’m sorry—”

  “Don’t you dare apologize,” Langston said, interrupting her. “Do what you have to do to live your happily-ever-after.” Moisture shimmered in Sharon’s eyes and she raced out of the office before the tears fell.

  Swiveling and leaning back in his chair, he stared out the window. Sharon talking about a happily-ever-after reminded him of the fairy tales he and Georgina had discussed. It had been more than two weeks since she’d come to his home for dinner, and he wondered if she’d finally moved into her guesthouse.

  His cell phone rang and he turned to glance at the screen and smiled. It was as if thinking about Georgina had conjured her up. “Hello, princess.”

  “Hello, Langston. I’m calling to ask if you have plans for Sunday?”

  He sat straight. “As a matter of fact, I don’t. Why?”

  “I’d like to invite you over to my place for dinner.”

  He smiled. “I’d love to come. What time and do you want me to bring anything?”

  “How’s three?”

  “Three is okay.”

  “I don’t want you to bring anything, Langston.”

  “You know we’ve been raised never to go to someone’s house empty-handed. Didn’t you bring dessert when you came to my place?”

  “Yes, because you didn’t mention anything about dessert. I have a fully stocked bar, and I plan to make dessert.”

  “Okay, Georgi. I won’t bring anything.” Langston knew he had to come up with something in which to celebrate her housewarming.

  “I guess that settles it. I’ll expect you Sunday at three.”

  “You’ve got it.”

  Langston ended the call. Despite what Georgina said, he had no intention of going to her home the first time without bringing something. However, he did not want to clutter his mind with the possibilities when he had to read a stack of emails for the “Sound Off” column. Once he added the column the emails began to pour in, with the proviso if printed, the complainant would remain anonymous. Although he read every one of them, there were very few that were fit to print. Complaints about abandoned cars, barking dogs or noisy neighbors were quality-of-life complaints that should’ve been reported to town hall.

  The advantage of printing a biweekly allowed him time to read every column, the proofreader’s corrections and double-check all photo captions. He was responsible for every printed word in the publication and loathed having to print corrections.

  Langston read the first email and then typed it in the column’s template:

  We are required to bag our garbage and put it in plastic containers. Why, then, if the garbage man drops the bag and garbage spills out, can’t they pick it up? The neighbors on my street have been complai
ning about seeing critters around looking for scraps of food.

  Concerned citizens on Mayflower Drive

  He decided it was a legitimate complaint and decided to include it in the column, because it was the third complaint from a different neighborhood about garbage men not picking up after themselves. Langston read another email and typed it:

  I thought there was a town regulation about not owning more than three dogs per household. And if outside, they must be secured in a fenced-in yard. There is a family on Harrison Lane with five dogs and no fence. How can you allow this to go on?

  Langston perused a few more emails. He had no idea when he’d created the column that it would lead to neighbors snitching on one another. However, the results were more positive than negative because it alerted town officials of incidents and infractions needed to be addressed and hopefully resolved in a reasonable amount of time. He selected one more to print:

  Thank you “Sound Off.” After I wrote about the unusual activity at a house on Manchester Court the sheriff’s office posted a deputy in the area resulting in the arrest of the homeowner for selling drugs.

  He saved the column and then forwarded it to the proofreader. Since assuming ownership of the paper, Langston scheduled staff breakfast meetings Monday mornings to discuss the tone of the upcoming issue. Unlike Eddie Miller, who always decided on the headlines and which articles would appear on the front page, Langston solicited the input of everyone on the editorial staff, reminding them they weren’t a tabloid, and their focus should be on truth. It was a hometown newspaper and except for the Op-ed page, the articles steered clear of politics. As the editor, he refused to endorse any candidate, but was not opposed to them taking out ads or writing Op-eds to reach out to their constituents.

  The afternoon passed slowly as he read over the article written by the reporter who’d interviewed the public school superintendent to address the issue of a potential teacher’s strike because they had been working without a contract for the past three years. The teachers wanted more than a six percent salary increase over the next three years, while refusing to give up any of their hard-won benefits.