A Sweethaven Summer (8 page)

Adele gasped. “That’s a travesty,” she said. “I have to tell ya, hon, I didn’t think you’d come. After we spoke on the phone, I imagined you’d go back to your life and forget all about this nonsense.” She leaned forward and put a hand over Campbell’s. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”

Campbell smiled. “I wasn’t going to come. But the more I read these, the more curious I became.” She produced the scrapbook pages from her bag.

In Adele’s hands, the pages looked like precious documents, treasures that should be behind glass at a museum. “Do you know what you have here?” Her eyes welled with tears.

Campbell shook her head.

“All their memories. Their stories.” She closed her eyes as if she needed a moment to regroup.

“Not all of their stories. It’s not complete. There are chunks missing.”

“I know, darlin’. When your mama didn’t come back that summer, they wanted to abandon the book altogether. This beautiful book of all their memories. Just sitting on the shelf in Meghan’s room. I couldn’t stand it. So, I got the three of them together and
I forced them to look through it with me, dividing up the pages so they could each have a stack to keep. I’m glad your mama kept hers all these years.”

Campbell sipped her tea and stared out across Adele’s yard. She hadn’t mustered the courage to ask the one question she most needed answered. She didn’t have the heart to tell Adele her reasons for coming weren’t for “posterity’s sake,” as the book suggested, but to find something much more important.

Campbell had come to find her father.

Adele watched Campbell drive off to a local store to pick up a few things, in spite of her offer to provide anything she needed for the night. Sounded like an excuse to her. No matter. The girl needed a little alone time, and that was just fine by her. She couldn’t blame the poor thing.

Once the car pulled out of sight, Adele sighed. So, Campbell Carter had found the scrapbook. And she had questions.

She wasn’t the only one. When Suzanne had shown up on Adele’s doorstep only months before, Adele had fought the urge to bombard her with questions of her own. Questions that had gone unanswered for so many years.

She’d been making molasses crinkles when there was a knock at the door. It was rare for Adele to have unannounced visitors—especially in the winter.

Suzanne’s long brown hair had hung in waves around her shoulders, flowing out of a multi-colored stocking cap Adele imagined she’d made herself.

The little girl she’d known and loved all those years ago had grown into a beautiful woman. Adele pulled her into a tight hug, and in a flash the memories came back: The day Meg came home with new friends after she’d spent months hating her for moving them to Sweethaven from Nashville. The scrapbooking slumber
parties Suzanne had insisted on. Meg’s announcement that Suzanne wasn’t coming back to Sweethaven—that she’d abandoned them all.

“Hi, Adele.” Suzanne’s face brightened. She’d always had a vibrancy about her, but in that moment, her light flickered.

“What is it, darlin’?”

Suzanne sighed. “Can I come in?”

Suzanne carried an oversized bag on her shoulder.

“Would you like some coffee? Tea?” Adele led her into the living room.

“Those are awfully grown-up drinks, Adele.” Suzanne grinned as she took a seat in the blue armchair.

“Hot cocoa it is.” In the kitchen, she filled the tea kettle with milk and set it on the flame. As she put the carton back, she glimpsed Meg’s photo on the side of the refrigerator. Her daughter should be here. She should be the one talking with Suzanne over warm drinks.

Adele brought a steaming mug to her young friend. “Feels like a whipped cream kind of day.” She handed Suzanne the mug and sat on the sofa across from her. “What is it, darlin’?”

Suzanne sighed. “Cancer.”

Adele gasped. Just like her Teddy. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m at peace with it now.” Suzanne sipped the cocoa.

“But you still have your hair.”

“Chemo wasn’t an option for me.” Suzanne looked tired. Especially around the eyes. “So, I am living it up while I’ve still got the time.”

“Oh, sure you are, and that’s why you’re here to see me—the life of the party.” Adele laughed. A forced laugh. She wondered if Suzanne noticed.

“I wanted to talk to you about why I left.”

“I know why you left, darlin’. Meg showed me the picture.”

Suzanne’s face reddened, and she looked at her feet. “I didn’t have a choice, Adele. My mom wasn’t going to bring me up here with a new baby. It was bad enough that our friends at home found out about it. But Sweethaven was my mom’s favorite place to pretend. She could be picture-perfect with her pastor husband. But I was a failure.” She set the drink on the coffee table. “I really let them down.”

Poor girl. She’d been carrying this pain for years.

Adele took Suzanne’s hands in her own. “You listen to me. I will not judge you. My good Lord Jesus tells me not to judge. I am only here to be your friend.”

“Thank you.” Suzanne pulled away. “I know the girls were mad at me. They didn’t really know my parents. I think they were mad I wouldn’t tell them everything, but I was just so ashamed.” Even now, all these years later, she wrung her hands, eyes focused on the floor.

Shame. Powerful demon, that one.

“They were upset, I suppose, but they loved you, Suzanne. They would’ve been there for you. I would’ve been there for you.”

“Adele, the people who were supposed to protect me the most couldn’t even be there for me. They kicked me out. Told me if I didn’t marry the father, I shouldn’t come back. My child wasn’t welcome in their home.”

Adele cringed. She’d suspected Suzanne’s parents—especially her mother—had been unsympathetic, but she had no idea how badly it had hurt Suzanne.

Suzanne fidgeted with the edge of a pillow at her side. “I went to Jane. I would’ve told her everything that night, but I couldn’t. Bad timing. I didn’t want to push my problems on her. A few months later, I got a stack of scrapbook pages in the mail. I figured it was her way of saying they’d all decided they were finished with this foolishness.”

“That could be, sweetheart, but isn’t it just as likely they wanted you to know they couldn’t continue without you? The Circle was broken.
I
am the one who insisted they divide that scrapbook, darlin’. I felt like that book needed to be with each of you, and the only way to do that was to give everyone a portion of the pages. They picked your pages so carefully, making sure to get the ones they thought you’d love most.”

Suzanne shook her head, almost as though it hurt to imagine she’d gotten it wrong for so many years.

“I need a favor.”

“Anything, hon.”

“I need you to send these cards to the girls after I’m…”

“Suzanne.” Adele touched Suzanne’s knee. “No.”

“Yes, please. You’re the only one I trust to do this.”

“Darlin’ listen. I know a little something about regret, and I can tell you if you don’t find these girls yourself and say good-bye, you will regret it. And so will they.”

“Too much time has passed, Adele. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“You could start with ‘hello.’ You don’t know what they’ve all been through, hon.”

“Exactly, and I wasn’t there for any of them. I left. In their minds, I died a long time ago.”

Adele sat back in her chair. “That’s just not true, Suzanne.”

“Can you honestly tell me if I called Meg right now we could just pick up where we left off?” Suzanne stared at her, but Adele said nothing. “Can you?”

“I can’t tell you much of anything about Meghan these days, I’m afraid. We haven’t spoken in a long time.”

Suzanne’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“She left Sweethaven a few years ago, and I haven’t seen her since.”

Suzanne crinkled her forehead. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s a long story, but it would be better if you tried to reach them yourself.”

“Please, Adele. I don’t have a lot of time left. I need to spend it all with my daughter. I am praying the girls will understand.”

“I have a better idea. Why don’t you all come up here for a weekend? You can get everyone back together. You can introduce them to your daughter. You can tell them how much you love them face to face.”

Suzanne sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Come on, darlin’. A reunion is long overdue. I vote for the first weekend in May.”

“Blossom Festival.” Suzanne smiled. “It does seem perfect, doesn’t it?”

“So you take those cards home and rewrite them. Invite everyone back for the Blossom Fest.”

As she spoke, her stomach fluttered with anticipation. Would Meghan return if her dying friend invited her?

“But I don’t want Campbell to come.”

“Why ever not?”

“I want to tell her about this place, but not everything. Some things would just hurt her. I won’t let that happen.”

“She’s a grown woman now, Suzie-Q. Don’t you think you oughtta let her decide what she does and doesn’t want to know?”

Suzanne shook her head. “She’s felt enough rejection over the years. Her father has his own life. My family—well, you know how that all turned out.”

“But your history is her history.” How could Suzanne deny her daughter the beauty of this little town? “Just think about it.”

“If she gets a hold of the scrapbook, she will be at your front door within a day,” Suzanne said.

“Fine by me. I’d love to meet her.”

“Adele. It’s a bad idea. Sweethaven is part of my past. Not part of Campbell’s future.”

“Sweethaven has a lot to offer, my dear. And I think that daughter of yours might benefit from a little bit of this town’s magic. Don’t you?”

Adele sent her home with a box of molasses crinkles and prayed she would make it to the first week of May. Now, she mourned the loss of her young friend and wondered why so many things in life seemed unfair.

Jane gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. Five hours in the car with nothing to do but think.

Alex
. She forced his face away every time it danced through her mind. She had to or she’d start crying.

Twice she’d called Graham to explain why she needed to come back home. Both times he’d talked her into getting back in the car and continuing on to Sweethaven.

“Are you worried I can’t handle the kids?” he asked, his tone light.

“You know I’m not.”

“Good, ’cause I’ve got it under control. The cottage is empty, hon. You could use the time to yourself.”

Time alone seemed like the last thing she needed right now. This trip had already dredged up pain she’d long since buried—and she hadn’t even reached the town limits yet.

She exited the interstate and turned left on Main. A wave of familiarity washed over her. She inhaled deeply and let out a slow breath. Maybe she should’ve packed a paper bag. Just in case. She wouldn’t go down to the Boardwalk. Or even glance in the direction of the beach. Would that be enough to keep the pain at bay?

She picked up her cell and dialed home but hung up before it rang. She could do this. She needed to do this. Graham had offered to come with her. In an unexplainable moment of strength, she’d refused.

She regretted that now.

As she drove down Main Street, she noticed some of the changes they’d made over the years. Old-fashioned lampposts. New brickwork that matched the original. No wonder tourists flocked here for the seasonal festivals. The Reindog Parade each winter. The Venetian Festival over the Fourth of July. And the Blossom Festival always on the first weekend in May. This weekend.

She could almost smell the pink blooms on the crabapples that lined both sides of Main Street. The vineyards would be open, offering samples of their very best wines, and an old-fashioned carnival would be held all weekend down by the Boardwalk and the carousel. How appropriate for Suzanne to suggest this weekend for a reunion.

But then, cancer didn’t care what season it was.

She turned on Elm toward Adele’s cottage. Always warm and inviting, Adele Barber had been the glue that held them together on more than one occasion, the mediator in their silly arguments. Adele’s freshly baked chocolate chip cookies seemed to cure all the world’s ills. Suzanne’s and Lila’s mothers were busy with their luncheons and social functions, Jane’s mom had younger children to tend to, but Adele had nothing but time to get into their business. Even after Luke was born. Meg pretended to hate it, but the rest of them wouldn’t have had it any other way.

She pulled into the driveway and admired the potted plants that flanked Adele’s front door. Clothes on a clothesline in the side yard waved in the wind.

She turned off the engine and said a quick prayer. As excited as she was at connecting with her old friends, it was another wretched day that haunted her. She prayed that, for now, she wouldn’t have to face the old demons that lurked in the shadows.

She grabbed her purse and opened the car door. The sooner she could get this over with, the better.

As she stepped out of the car and slung her purse over her shoulder, a silver Mercedes pulled over and parked in front of Adele’s house. Surely Adele didn’t have a silver Mercedes. She tried not to stare, but quick glances didn’t award her any knowledge, and there didn’t seem to be any movement inside the car.

Seconds later, the door popped open and a blond woman with a thin frame appeared.

Lila
. She wore oversized sunglasses, a crisp, white button-down, and a pair of black dress pants. As Lila stepped away from the car, Jane saw pointy heels peeking out from the bottom of her pant legs. Jane glanced down at her own tennis shoes and looked away.

Lila walked to the end of the driveway and removed her glasses. “Aren’t you gonna say anything?”

Jane closed the car door and took a step toward her old friend, then took Lila’s hand. Her mouth went dry as cotton and she struggled for words. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

“You’re gonna cry, aren’t you?” Lila hugged her.

Jane pulled away and studied Lila’s face. She looked almost exactly the same, only a bit older. Jane ran her hands through her hair—anything to make herself more presentable. “It’s so good to see you here. How long has it been?”