A Sweethaven Summer (13 page)

The tug of war between her head and her heart had left her exhausted, and suddenly the only thing she wanted was to get back to Mom’s house, where she could sleep for the next three days.

But when the radio stopped on a station playing “When You Say Nothin’ at All” by Alison Krauss, Campbell’s eyes filled with tears. Mom’s favorite song. The words didn’t fit every sad situation that had come her way, but it didn’t matter—it was Mom’s go-to song, the one that always comforted her.

Mom had never been much of a singer, but it didn’t stop her. Whenever she’d had a broken heart, Campbell could count on Mom smoothing her hair away from her face and singing that song until the pain finally started to dull.

She stopped the car in the parking lot and rested her head on the steering wheel.

“Mom, why didn’t you just tell me what you wanted me to know instead of making me go figure it all out for myself?” A tear fell onto her jeans, leaving a wet dot just above her knee.

The song filled the car, like a much-needed hug from her mother that told her she could go on. She had questions and Sweethaven had answers. If she left now, she’d never work up the courage to come back.

Could she muster the strength right now to do it? No matter the cost of what she discovered?

“This is gonna sting a little,” Campbell said as she put the car in drive. As she headed back toward Elm Street, she imagined what she’d say if she ran into her grandfather again, but quickly put an end to that line of thinking as Adele’s house came into view.

The living room lights illuminated the front of the house, and two cars still sat outside. Lila and Jane hadn’t left yet. Would they forgive her for taking off? Maybe they wanted no part of this drama.

But she had to try.

She walked up to the door and knocked. Seconds later, Adele appeared on the other side of the screen. She didn’t say a word, simply opened the door and ushered Campbell back into the room as if she’d never left.

Jane’s and Lila’s surprised expressions faded into understanding, and they made room for her to sit with them. Luke shifted in his seat and avoided her eyes.

Adele took her hand and squeezed it. After several beats of silence, Adele said, “There are two options. We can call it a day right now. Or,” her voice slowed, “if you’re up for it, the girls and I were thinking we could get out the scrapbook pages and do a little detective work. See if we can’t piece together who your daddy is.”

Campbell stared at the three women, all wearing the same hopeful expression. Her insecurities faded as she realized they really wanted to help her. She hadn’t imagined she could ever have a
daddy
. She liked the way it sounded. Her nod of agreement was met with three smiles.

“I’ll go get the coffee.” Adele disappeared into the kitchen.

“We’ll go get our pages. Come on, Lila.” Jane hopped up, grabbed Lila’s arm, and exited the room, leaving Campbell and Luke alone.

He stood and took a couple steps toward her, forcing her gaze. She pressed her lips together and squared her jaw. Stubborn, her mom would say.

Luke took her hands and kept his eyes fixed on hers. “I really am sorry you found out that way. If I’d known—if I’d been thinking—I would’ve handled that differently.”

The apology hung between them, waiting for her response. His stare unnerved her until finally she looked away. “It’s okay.”

“I promise if I think of anything else, I’ll tell you right away.”

She nodded.

Adele burst back in the room carrying a tray of coffee and assorted creamers. Jane and Lila were right behind her.

Luke glanced at them, then back at Campbell. “I should go. Thanks for dinner, Ma,” he said. He hugged Lila, then Jane, then Adele. Then he stopped in front of Campbell and pulled her into a gentle hug. “Hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Her arms didn’t move. They were locked at her sides. He pulled away, waved, and then walked out. Campbell heard the sound of the front door closing behind him, and a hint of sadness wound around her heart.

“What’s that about?” Lila wore a knowing grin, her tone playfully accusatory.

“What do you mean?” Campbell crossed her arms.

“Are you blushing? I can’t tell for sure, but I think you’re blushing.” Jane giggled. “He’s so dreamy.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Campbell turned her cell phone over in her hand, staring at it as if she’d never seen it before.

“He’s a good catch, hon.” Adele put an arm around her. “But he’s been hurt before, so he doesn’t usually put himself out there. I think he likes you.”

“Can I get some of that coffee, Adele? Coffee would be wonderful right now.” Campbell stared at the floor.

“Good idea, hon. We could all use a little something warm in our bellies.” Adele poured four mugs of coffee and handed them around to the others.

Lila nestled into an old armchair, Jane and Campbell on the couch. Adele stood until everyone had found a spot and then settled in a white rocking chair with a big cushion.

“This chair is so comfortable, Adele.” Lila fixed the pillow around her.

“Well, it’s probably worn to my backside, but you’re right, it’s a comfy one. I like everything in my house to be comfortable.”

Perhaps Adele had been her mother’s inspiration.

“It is, just like always.” Jane hugged a pillow over her midsection.

Conversation lagged and silence filled the room. Campbell shifted and pulled her legs up under her. How could she convince her mom’s friends to tell her everything they remembered? To divulge their secrets? Surely they’d known her father. Sweethaven wasn’t a big town. Maybe they just needed their memories jogged.

“Tell us about her.” Jane interrupted Campbell’s thoughts. “Your mother. Your life.”

Campbell glanced at Adele, who smiled but said nothing. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything.” Jane pulled her legs up on the couch and settled in, as if Campbell had an entire night’s worth of stories to tell. But Campbell was the one with questions. Like why hadn’t her mother told her anything about them—or Sweethaven? Or that she had a grandfather?

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” she said.

Didn’t her mom’s friends know it was all she could do not to run screaming from the house? She had no tolerance for small talk.

Lila sat tall in the cushy recliner, her posture perfect, her chin just high enough to look down on the rest of the room. “What did she end up doing? Something with her art?”

Campbell nodded, the knot in her stomach loosening just a bit. “She taught at my high school. It was always just the two of us, but she still went back to school and became a teacher.”

“What did she tell you about her parents, hon?” Jane’s brow furrowed.

“Just what I told you. That they died in a car accident right after I was born.”

Confused glances criss-crossed the room.

“Why would she tell me that if it wasn’t true? Is my grandmother alive too?” Her voice broke and she chastised herself for being so weak.

“It’s complicated, darlin’.” Adele’s smile failed to comfort Campbell.

“I deserve to know the truth. Don’t I?” She looked at them, one by one, but no one responded.

* * * * *

Jane’s heart broke when she realized Suzanne had lied to her own daughter. Had she planned to tell Campbell the truth about them too? How was it she’d slipped into a coma the very day she intended to come clean about the past? Jane knew Suzanne had had a rocky relationship with her parents—even more so after her pregnancy—but she always hoped they would work it out. Apparently, they hadn’t. And their rift was serious enough for Suzanne to keep them from knowing their only granddaughter.

What had happened all those years ago to make her hate her parents that much? They’d speculated, but none of them knew for sure.

She could see Campbell’s confusion—and they’d only just started talking. What else didn’t she know?

Jane’s heart sank. Campbell had deserved to know her grandfather still lived around the corner on Juniper Drive, and she also deserved to know her grandmother had died only a few years ago. She knew because she’d attended the funeral. She saw the way it
broke the old man’s heart to bury his wife—even though the woman had turned into a bitter, angry thing.

Adele fidgeted across the room. “Campbell, hon, there are some things we need to tell you. I imagine they are things your mama planned to tell you—and I do wish you were hearin’ all this from her.”

“It’s okay, Adele. I need to know,” Campbell said. “Even if it hurts.”

Adele glanced at the coffee table. “Why don’t we start with the scrapbook?”

Three piles of scrapbook pages sat on the table between them. Their memories, their past, their childhood stared at them, reminded them of all they’d been.

They’d all had such dreams back then.

“This isn’t right.” Lila looked at Adele.

“What’s not?” Jane asked, afraid Lila would jump in before Adele had a chance to explain things to Campbell. Adele had a softness that Lila didn’t.

“Where’s Meghan for starters? Didn’t she get a card? Can you call her, Adele?”

The questions seemed to stun Adele. “I—I—I could try calling her, I guess.” The old woman glanced at Jane, whose muscles clenched at the mention of Meg’s name.

“She’s got two beautiful kids right here in Sweethaven, and when was the last time she saw them?” Lila crossed her long legs and stared at Adele.

“Too long ago. Almost two years, I think.”

Lila shook her head.

Tension wormed its way through the room as the three of them danced around their unspoken secrets. Jane studied the floorboard, willing the grief back in its hole. She couldn’t think of Meghan without thinking of Alex.

Finally, Adele stood. “I think I’ll get more cream,” she said. “Would anyone else like some?”

Neither Jane nor Lila responded.

“I’d love some, Adele,” Campbell said.

In seconds, every good memory she had seemed to float away, carried off on a wave of sadness. Sadness that threatened to tear Jane in half. She stood. “I’m going to use the restroom.” She walked toward the bathroom and tried not to make it look like she was escaping.

In the solace of the tiny pink powder room, Jane leaned over the sink and inhaled while she counted to ten.

Why did Lila have to be so thoughtless?

Jane forced herself not to cry. She shouldn’t have come. She should’ve stayed home with her stack of pages and the comfort of Graham’s arms. Feeling the grief hurt in a way she didn’t have the capacity to handle. Jane had mastered the fine art of not completely feeling her emotions. If this continued, the heaviness might crush her.

“You’re okay,” she said to her reflection. “You can do this.” One more deep breath and Jane went back to the living room. At the same time, Adele returned with a small pitcher of cream. “I brought extra in case anyone changes their mind,” she said. She glanced at Lila. “Maybe we can focus on Campbell instead of digging up the past?”

Lila raised her eyebrows, trying to look innocent. “I didn’t do it on purpose, Adele.”

No, Jane thought. Lila never did it on purpose.

Adele gave Jane a quick hug, but Jane tightened at her touch.

“I think I’ll have some more coffee,” Jane said. As if the coffee could wash the pain away.

“Comin’ right up, honey.”

Finally, Jane forced a smile—the smile of a pastor’s wife, used
to living in a fishbowl—and turned her attention to the stacks of finished layouts on the table in front of her. Lila did have a point: nothing felt the same without their other friends. And as much as she hated to admit it, that included Meghan.

Had she gotten Suzanne’s note? Why wasn’t she here?

“Look at all those pages.” Lila ran a hand over the stack nearest to her. “Mine have been here this whole time. I found them in my hope chest. Mama stuffed them in there like dirty laundry. I haven’t seen them in years.”

“You were all so artistic,” Jane said.

“Not me.” Lila glanced at her. “Suzanne was the real artist, although Meg could do a pretty mean graffiti wall.” Jane and Lila shared a tension-relieving laugh and Adele covered her ears.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Adele said.

“Lila, you could always decorate a room like a work of art.” Jane glanced at Campbell, who appeared to be tolerating their chitchat. “I’m telling you, I was the only one without any trace of artistic talent.” Jane picked up Suzanne’s pile and thumbed through the square layouts. “You can tell which of these pages are Suzanne’s and which are the rest of ours at first glance.”

“She definitely had her own style.” Lila leaned forward, joining Jane as they pored over the first few pages.

“ ‘Pure Delight.’ ” Jane laughed. “I remember this.”

“Remember Suzanne insisted on using the word ‘delight’?” Lila laughed. “I think we made fun of her for that for years.”

“We’d throw it into sentences—”

“This corn dog is so
delightful
.” Lila did her best Scarlett O’Hara imitation.

“I simply
delight
in the summer sun.” Jane put on an accent to match Lila’s.

“Suzanne got so mad.” Lila’s eyes sparkled as they told the story.

“Did she tell you about the summer we all met?” Jane smiled as she focused on Campbell. “Lila and I had been friends for years, but we didn’t meet Meghan and Suzanne until we were almost thirteen. Suzanne rescued me from two mean girls and then convinced me to go for a ride on the carousel, remember, Lila?” Jane could still feel the sense of relief as clear as if she were sitting on that bench with a drippy ice cream cone today.

Lila laughed. “The summer it was restored. I remember. Suzanne made us keep our ticket stubs. For ‘prosperity’s sake.’ ” She glanced at Campbell. “That’s what she called it.”

Jane could still see Suzanne’s grin as she stood up from the bench and challenged Jane.

“You ready for the carousel or what?” Suzanne took off in the direction of the carousel, and Jane tried to keep up with her. When they reached the line, Suzanne nearly plowed into Lila, who wore a pink belted dress and a white headband.

“Oh, sorry.” Suzanne apologized.