Where did this idea come from? God, is that You talking again? There was nothing for it but to say it out loud.
“What would you think about trading houses with me?” There. He’d said it. He had voiced the idea that had come to him not two minutes ago.
She sat there for a moment, pondering. “Are you serious, Tom?”
“I am. I don’t want to see the house go out of the family if it doesn’t have to. I love this place.”
“I love it too, but Tom, I don’t want to burden you with this place. It’s too much. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Don’t waste it working on an old house. It’s just a house.”
“Relax, Mama. Number one, it’s not a burden. I want to raise my kids here. And don’t worry, I won’t waste my life doing anything I don’t want to. I want to help you, and I want to help me too.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to be like my mama. She wouldn’t even consider losing this place, and look what it did to me and your daddy.” Her voice grew rough with emotion.
“Mama, you are not your mama, and I’m not you or Daddy. I’m me.”
She put her hand on his cheek and looked, as best she could, at his face. He knew she could see shapes, and sometimes glimpses, close-up. “Sweet boy. You are your own man, aren’t you?”
“If I’m not now, I won’t ever be.” He laughed and kissed her on the cheek. “To be honest, I’d be happy if you let me sell my house and you stay here with me.”
“Absolutely not. If I do that, you’ll never get married.”
“All right, then, shall we make a deal?” He spit in his hand and put it out for a shake.
“Thomas Sumter Livingston, did you spit on your hand and expect me to shake it?”
“Mama, you changed my diapers and washed my face with your spit. What’s the difference?”
“The difference is you’re a grown man and I’m a grown woman and we’re doing a business deal. How about we hug on it?” She leaned into his hug and squeezed him back. “Good doin’ business with you, son.” She patted his face again and smiled. “Now somebody needs to call that realtor and take this house off the market.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She got up from the swing and started into the house. When she entered the front room, she shouted up the stairs. “Charlotte Anne, we have a change of plans.”
“You didn’t?” Jared laughed with Tom, reliving the business deal he made with his mother. “I thought you were all for modern, neat, and, more than anything, clean?”
“Aw, the old house is clean. As for neat, I guess when you start thinking long-term about your life, you realize life is pretty messy anyway. May as well learn to live with it.”
Tom knew he was sounding out of character, for him. “Let’s keep it on the down-low for now.”
Jared narrowed his eyes. “Any particular reason?”
Tom looked out at the back lawn of Pilot Oaks. “Maybe. Nothing I’m ready to talk about yet.” He smiled. “I’m glad to have you back.”
“Me too.”
They sat in companionable silence on the patio, Tom in a rocker and Jared comfortable in a chaise lounge. It was everyone’s job to keep Jared as immobile as possible, and Tom took this mission seriously. “You want me to bring pizza for the game tomorrow?”
“That would be awesome. Prudie’s making wings, and teaching Sarah how to do it.”
Tom grinned. “Sounds like a good skill for her to have.”
“You bet. For a self-proclaimed non-cook, she’s good at it.”
“Better watch the waistline.” Tom stretched and patted his flat stomach.
“I’ll leave that to you guys on the most-eligible-bachelor list.”
Tom chuckled. “Yeah.”
His mind went to the lady that was most likely to challenge his status in that category. Lucy. He had never had a “type” of girl he went for. It was always what they were like. Not that he didn’t notice a pretty girl. He wasn’t that virtuous. Lucy bowled him over the first time he met her, which had made him suspicious. It wasn’t like him to be entranced, and that’s what it was like when he was with her. He was entranced by everything about her, from her looks to her high-pitched giggle, to her love of everything organized.
And there was that pink tool belt. His face relaxed into a smile that went all the way from head to toe.
“Tom?”
He looked at Jared and knew his face was red. It wasn’t from the sun. “Did you say something?”
“I did, and you were totally out to lunch.” Jared’s laugh deepened his embarrassment.
“Sorry, I got sidetracked.”
“Derailed, more likely. I was asking about the relief fund case. Any word?”
Tom sobered. “I recorded my deposition the other day, and Lucy won’t have to testify. His arraignment was this morning.” He shook his head sadly. “He pled guilty.”
“I guess that’s a good thing?”
Tom weighed his words. “I suppose. Since it’s not a big dollar amount, he may only get probation. Sentencing is scheduled for early November.”
“Is he still in jail?”
“Yes. The fact that he was a cop has made it a little dicey for him.”
“They’re not making it easy on him. That’s good.” Jared looked down for a minute. When he looked at Tom, his eyes looked tired. “He admitted to hitting Annabelle?”
Tom noted the hurt in Jared’s eyes. Time heals wounds, but it doesn’t always reduce the trauma. He knew Jared had forgiven Annabelle years ago, not only for cheating with another man, but also for lying to him. Jared kept her secret out of respect for her family. Now that the secret was no longer hidden, it was like reliving it all over again.
“He did. And he had the gall to accuse you of murdering her in that accident. You know you have grounds for a libel case against him.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I know.” Jared shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “I think we’ve all been through enough. Half the town thought I was the cause of her death anyway, and the people who know me, know it was an accident. Now more people will know there was more to it without me having to drag the family through more tragedy.”
Tom looked him in the eye. “I would do the same.”
“One of these days, though, I’d like to talk to Sam. He may not want to talk to me, but I’d like to meet him face-to-face.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
The weather report for the week of Jared and Sarah’s wedding was wide-open sunshine and warmth, something that didn’t always happen in October, considering they were still officially in hurricane season.
Lucy stretched as she woke in the guest room of Sarah’s beach house. Today she and Tom were helping move in Jared’s things, most of it new, because his house had been destroyed in the hurricane. There were also shower gifts, until now stored at Pilot Oaks, to un-box and put away.
The original plan had been for them to move to Jared’s beach house until the remodel of their dream house on Pilot Oaks Road was finished. The hurricane changed that plan in an instant. Now they would stay here at Sarah’s beach bungalow.
Lucy still wasn’t sure what she should do. Post-hurricane activities had kept her busy, and she hadn’t spent much time planning for “after.”
That was unlike her. In normal circumstances, she would have had her life planned out months in advance, but this had been an unusual year. Without a school year to focus on, she was adrift. The most she knew was that after the wedding, she was going to visit her grandmother for a few weeks. After that? Only God knew, and she was okay with that.
She smelled fresh coffee brewing. Sarah wasn’t organized, but she was a creature of habit. And one of the best habits, in her opinion, was her love of coffee in the morning. The smell of java and the sound of the surf pulled her out of bed. Her robe lay across the chair in her room, and she put it on and slipped into her mules. It was wonderful to be where it was actually around sixty degrees first thing in the morning, in
October. No fuzzy slippers here.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Sarah smiled as she poured scrambled eggs into the skillet.
“Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?” Lucy gave her a mock-glare and sat at the counter, chin in hand.
Sarah smiled. “I hope Jared doesn’t think I do this every morning. I couldn’t stay in bed any longer. I woke up at six-thirty raring to get things unpacked and in the cabinets.”
“Good. I didn’t want to have to recant all the warnings I’ve given him about how to treat you early in the morning.”
“Please don’t. I don’t think I could sustain this.”
Both young women laughed and startled when the timer went off.
“My biscuits are done. You get to be the judge for my first solo attempt.”
“What? Remember our biscuits in freshman Home Ec?”
Sarah pulled the sheet out of the oven. “I do. I think these look a little better, don’t you?” She turned and showed Lucy the light, fluffy, very tall biscuits. “Please take a picture and send it to my mother.” When Lucy just looked at her quizzically, she said, “No, really. She’s got to see these.”
Lucy laughed and complied. “They’re beautiful. Didn’t you say she tried to teach you how to make biscuits once?”
“More than once. It didn’t take. I asked Prudie to teach me, and I guess I needed incentive. Jared’s pretty good incentive, don’t you think?”
Lucy smiled at her friend. “He is. Oh, Sarah, this time next week, you’ll be married. You’ll be Mrs. Jared Stuart Benton!” She squealed, and then clapped her hand over her mouth. “Did I just squeal like a schoolgirl?”
Sarah giggled. “Yes, you did, and I hope you do it for every event in my life. Promise?”
She arched a brow and tilted her head. “Sounds like I do it naturally, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”
“Speaking of squealing, how are things with Tom?” She dished scrambled eggs onto a plate, along with crisp bacon. “Want some jelly? Or honey?”
“Honey, please.” Lucy busied herself putting butter on her biscuits. After that, she poured a dab of honey on her plate to spoon onto the biscuits one bite at a time. “I’m not sure. About Tom, I mean.”
“Okay. Would you like to elaborate? And would you like to eat this on the patio?”
“I’ll try, and yes, definitely, on the patio. Let’s pray first.”
“Yes.” Sarah said a prayer of blessing and thanks. They picked up plates and cups of steaming coffee and went out the French doors to enjoy the sunshine. Balancing her plate on her mug, Sarah grabbed the extra biscuits, and Lucy did the same with the butter and honey. “We might need more.”
“I’ll say.”
When they got settled into their seats and began eating, Lucy took a swig of coffee. “About Tom. It’s hard to pin it down. One day he seems like he’s very interested in me. The next day he acts like a big brother. I know he’s a friend I can count on but anything more? I would say the ball is in his court.”
“How do you feel, Lucy?” Sarah’s hazel eyes bore into Lucy’s blue ones.
“Me?” She hadn’t talked about her feelings, except to God. Was she brave enough to voice her innermost thoughts when they might not work out?
“Yes, you.” Sarah gave her a withering look.
She put her mug down and played with the eggs and bacon on her plate. “Do you want the grown-up Lucy version I would give to my grandmother, or the ever-an-adolescent version I would give to my best friend in a note folded like a paper football?”
“Um, the latter, please.”
Lucy spooned up a bit of honey and used her biscuit to clean it off before taking a bite and closing her eyes in pleasure. “Oh, Sarah. This is amazing.”
“It’s lard.”
“What?” Lucy’s eyes flew open in confusion. “Lard?”
“I put lard in the biscuits instead of shortening. Makes a world of difference.” She waited for Lucy to finish chewing and swallowing. “You were saying?”
“I was saying. Yes.” She had a hard time meeting Sarah’s eyes, and she came to the conclusion Sarah was going to wrangle it out of her if she didn’t spill her guts. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend my time with.”
“Or your life?” Sarah’s eyes grew wider by the moment.
“That would be up to him.”
“Oh, come on. I want to know about you. How do you feel?” Sarah narrowed her eyes as if trying to draw the information out of her.
Lucy scrunched up her face, considering what to say. She tilted her head as her gamine grin came out, one-sided. She couldn’t keep it in. “When I think about Tom, I get tingly all over, and I want to giggle. Satisfied?”
“Very much so.” Sarah folded her napkin and placed her elbows on the table. She leaned toward Lucy with a conniving grin. “What are we going to do about it?”
Lucy drank the last of her coffee, folded her napkin, and stood up. “We are going to do nothing but wash new dishes and put them in cabinets, and then we’re going to that last fitting for my dress and meet up with the sisters and kids for their final fittings.” She felt more light-hearted than she had in days. She grinned at her best friend. “After all that, maybe we’ll talk about it.”
Tom walked in the door of the bridal salon in time to see the prettiest bridesmaid in the world. The dusty rose chiffon swirled around her as she twirled on the riser in front of the mirror. For a moment, there were no other people in the room, and she hadn’t seen him yet. When the flower girls, also dressed in their tulle-and-chiffon dresses, began to twirl and giggle along with Lucy, he couldn’t help but laugh along with them.
“Tom!” Sarah walked across the room to greet him, but his eyes were still on Lucy.
He looked down when Sarah crossed his sight-line. “Oh, hi, Sarah. Emmaline wanted me to come in to have the hem on my pants and sleeves checked.”
“Awesome. We’re finishing up. Lucy had to have her dress taken in, and the little girls had their final fitting. We’re good to go!” She leaned in with a whisper. “Can you believe the wedding is this weekend?”
“Crazy, isn’t it?” He tilted his head to see around Sarah’s head. Lucy was looking right at him, smiling. “How was the bachelorette party Saturday night?”
Sarah sighed. “Amazing. The pampering was just what we needed. After the spa, we went to Captain Dan’s for a seafood feast and watched a romantic comedy at my house. Total relaxation.” She smiled, following Tom’s gaze. “Doesn’t Lucy look great?” Sarah’s arched eyebrow was not lost on him.
He looked down and grinned. “She does.” When he looked back up, she was gone, and Jessica and Susan were out. He was sure his disappointment was showing on his face because Sarah patted his arm and laughed.
“Have a seat. I’m sure the alterations lady will be calling on you soon. Too many girls back there right now.”
“I’ll wait until the estrogen level goes down a bit.” He smiled at the radiant bride-to-be. “Everything going okay with the wedding preparations?”
She smiled through a mist of happy tears. “It couldn’t be any better. I wouldn’t care if there was nothing but Jared, me, our family and friends, and the preacher, but Lucy has gone out of her way to make this the wedding of my dreams. Thank you for all your help too. We’re blessed.”
Tom hugged Sarah and handed her his handkerchief, which made her smile. “Anything I can do for you and Jared, ask. I’m available.”
“I know you are. Everybody has been great. Now if you could get Jared’s hair to grow a little faster.” She laughed.
“Sorry, can’t help you there. We’ll just have to be glad he’s here, crew-cut and all.”
“Oh, believe me, I am.”
Lucy walked up to them, hearing their conversation. “Isn’t it amazing how much Jared looks like his dad with the shorter hair?” She grinned. “At least you know what he’ll look like when he gets old.”
“Tom’s here.” Sara
h pointed out the obvious.
“No kidding?” Lucy arched a brow at her friend. She turned to Tom. “Hi, Tom. Here to get your sleeves and pants checked one last time?”
“Yes. Does Emmaline think I’ve grown or something?” He was enjoying seeing her face flush when she turned to him.
“No, it’s only that the extra tall like you and the extra small like me are more prone to have something either too long or too short. It never hurts to double-check.”
“I understand. You had to have more alterations? Been on a diet?” Maybe if he teased her a little, she would loosen up.
It was working. She gave him a mock-glare. “No, Detective Livingston, I have not been dieting. I’ve been a tad busy, if you will recall, roofing houses, chasing outlaws, and planning a wedding.” She poked him in the stomach. “I could say the same thing for you.”
“No dieting here.” He sucked in his gut and took a deep breath. “Real men don’t have to diet.”
“Oh really?” She raked her gaze up and down his lean frame. When she looked back into his eyes, she blushed furiously.
“No, we drink extra water and do extra runs, and the pounds come right off.” He raised his eyebrows. It was fun baiting her, and she took the bait so easily.
“Ugh. Men. If I never hear about the famous ‘water diet’ again, I’ll be perfectly happy.”
“Mr. Livingston?” The seamstress came from the back. When he held up his hand, she continued. “We’re ready for you now, if you’d like to try on your pants and jacket?”
“I guess we’ll see if I need any alterations now. You girls have fun.” He made his way to the curtained-off hallway, and turned when he heard Lucy.
“No high-water pants, Tom, you hear?” She batted her eyelashes.
He gave her a slow smile and winked. “If they’re too short, I’ll be sure to wear me some great socks.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Lucy walked around Pilot Oaks. Everything was ready for Sarah’s wedding. The wedding dress hung in her parents’ bedroom, where Jared wouldn’t get a glimpse of it. Extra furniture had been moved out of the double-parlor or rearranged into small conversation areas. The patio was being strung with café lights, and on Friday the extra tables and chairs would be delivered. The final decorations wouldn’t go out until Saturday morning, the day of the wedding.
Carolina Mercy (A Southern Breeze Series Book 2) Page 20
