Sweet Tea at Sunrise

by Sherryl Woods

  He spent several days with Mary Vaughn Lewis looking at town houses and the few condos that had sprung up outside of town. They had the advantage of being new with little need for upkeep, but to his surprise, he realized he wanted a real home. He wasn’t sure why he yearned for a house, when up until now any four walls would do.

  After the tenth walk-through listening to Mary Vaughn chat up granite countertops and walk-in closets, he finally said enough. “This isn’t what I want,” he told her.

  “But you said you wanted something small with no upkeep,” she said, regarding him with bewilderment.

  “I know. It’s not your fault. I guess I didn’t realize what I wanted until I spent so much time looking at what I don’t want. These little cookie-cutter places aren’t doing it for me.”

  “You want a house,” she concluded. “I can do that. Do we need to go through another process of elimination, or do you know what kind you’d like to see?”

  He laughed because she said it so cheerfully, without the faintest hint of impatience or resignation. “You’re a trouper, you know that?”

  “So they tell me, but I hope you’ll make a decision before I go into labor seven months from now.”

  He regarded her with surprise. “You’re pregnant? What’s going on in this town? Is it catching? Jeanette is, too.”

  She laughed. “I know, but at least she’s not going to be as old as the grannies most of the other kids have. I should not be having a baby at my age.”

  “But you’re ecstatic, just the same. I can tell.”

  “Actually, I am, and Sonny is over the moon. I think Howard would have posters printed up with the announcement, if we let him.”

  “Don’t let him,” Travis said. “It’ll give Tom ideas. Jeanette’s already worried he’s going to come on the air at the radio station one day to announce it. She’s made me swear I won’t let him near a microphone.”

  “I think it’s kind of sweet the way all these men are so excited. I doubt they’d feel that way if they were the ones with morning sickness, though. Which reminds me, if we’re going to look at houses, we should get to it. My morning sickness tends to kick in around noon, which means this baby is going to be as perverse as his or her granddaddy.”

  “We can wait and start tomorrow,” Travis said.

  “Nope. I want to show you two houses right now. They’re at opposite ends of the spectrum in terms of style. Your reaction will give me some idea of what I need to zero in on.”

  The first was in a new development on the outskirts of town. Though the lots were large, the houses overwhelmed them. All of the trees that might have offered shade or charm had been ripped out during construction. Travis refused to even leave the car.

  “This isn’t it,” he said, waving her on.

  “Okay, then, we’ll stick to Serenity proper. How do you feel about Tom and Jeanette’s house? I sold it to her, you know. In fact, she stole it right out from under Tom, and he didn’t utter a single protest. That’s when I knew they’d wind up living there together.”

  “I love their house,” he admitted, “but I doubt they’ll let me have it.”

  She chuckled. “But you do like the cozy little cottage style?”

  He nodded. It felt like a real home, not like the mansion he’d grown up in or the sterile places he’d lived while he’d played ball. He wanted a house where he could envision raising a family, which was ironic since he had no intention of ever having one.

  “Then I know just the place,” she said, “but I won’t be able to show it to you until tomorrow. The owner’s still living in it, and I need to schedule appointments a day in advance. She hates being there when people are walking through. She says it makes her sad to think of moving away.”

  “Then why is she going?”

  “Her son’s made arrangements for her to move to an assisted living facility closer to him. Even though she hates the idea, she doesn’t want to fight him on it. Of all her family, he’s the only one who lives nearby. She tends to listen to him.”

  Travis bristled. “He shouldn’t be forcing her to do something if she’s going to be miserable.”

  “She’s eighty-two. Managing a house is getting to be too much for her. It’s sad, but that’s reality,” Mary Vaughn said. “Do you still want to see the house tomorrow?”

  He nodded. “Where will she go when we come by?”

  “To play cards at the senior citizens’ center. She and her friends play gin rummy.”

  At least she was still active, he thought. And had friends. In her eighties, that was something.

  He told Mary Vaughn to schedule the appointment for ten-thirty, then vowed to tell Sarah about the senior center. Some of the members might make great interviews. Heck, maybe he’d go by himself. They could even do a remote from the center one day, he thought, excited about the idea. He’d never really known his own grandparents, so he liked listening to the older generation talk about the way things used to be.

  As he headed for the station, he thought about the way he was becoming a part of Serenity bit by bit. He cared about the community. He liked the people in it. It should have felt like home, or the way he’d always imagined home should feel.

  However, even he knew something was missing. Worse, he suspected it was more than just owning a house. And he was very much afraid that even though that something might be within reach, he wasn’t going to be brave enough to try to grab it.

  14

  Travis fell in love with the cozy little three-bedroom house that Mary Vaughn took him to see in the morning. On a tree-lined street in an older neighborhood, it boasted a screened-in side porch that was shaded by a giant oak, a brick-paved driveway and planters spilling over with bright flowers on either side of the front steps.

  The house itself was filled with comfortable, if somewhat shabby furniture, but the colors were bright, and every available surface was covered with framed photos. On the mantel a wedding photo, clearly taken years ago, showed a man and woman whose eyes sparkled with mischief despite the solemnity of the occasion.

  “What’s her name?” he asked Mary Vaughn, gesturing toward the picture.

  “Elizabeth Johnson,” she said. “She likes to be called Liz.”

  “She looks like a real pistol.”

  “She certainly was in her heyday,” Mary Vaughn confirmed. “She led protests against segregation and challenged everyone she knew to do the right thing. Serenity wasn’t as slow to come around as some cities in the South, and that was partly due to Liz. She took her maid to lunch at Wharton’s and practically dared Grace’s mother-in-law, who ran the place back then, not to serve her.”

  It sounded to Travis as if it would be a real loss to Serenity if she moved away.

  “Want to see the rest of the house?” Mary Vaughn asked, a sparkle in her eyes. “I have a surprise for you out back.”

  He was figuring there’d be some sort of humongous gas grill or something, but it turned out to be a tiny guest cottage, just one bedroom with a bath and a kitchen that consisted of the basics—a small stove, refrigerator and sink.

  “So, what do you think?” she asked him. “Isn’t it perfect? You could use it for guests, or as a rental.”

  The whole property was perfect, but somehow Travis couldn’t see himself making an offer. It would feel too much like snatching this remarkable woman’s home right out from under her, especially when he knew she wasn’t anxious to leave.

  “It’s definitely the best house we’ve seen, but I need to give it some thought,” he told Mary Vaughn.

  “It won’t be on the market for long,” she warned him. “Not even in this economy. The asking price is reasonable. It’s been priced to sell.”

  “I don’t question that,” he said. “It sounds more than fair.”

  “Then tell me your reservations. Maybe I can help.”

  “Thanks, but I need to work through this on my own. Just let me know if another offer comes in before I get back to you. Can you do that?” />
  “I’ll do what I can, but I’m obligated to take any offers to Liz.”

  “I know that, but if I tell you I might be willing to top such an offer, then you’d be obligated to get back to me, right? It would be in her best interests.”

  She studied him curiously. “Travis, what’s going on? If you like the place that much, why not put in a bid?”

  “You’ll just have to accept that I’m not quite ready,” he said, not sure he could explain it himself.

  He left her staring after him, then drove to the station, where Sarah was winding up her show. The second Bill took over and she left the studio, Travis caught her.

  “I need you to come with me,” he said. “No questions for once, okay?”

  She regarded him with bewilderment. “What’s going on?”

  “There’s somebody I want to meet and I want you along. It’s not a ploy or a date or whatever else usually gets your hackles up. Okay?”

  “I guess,” she said, grabbing her purse and leaving the station with him.

  “Are you planning to give me any clues at all?” she asked as he drove through town.

  “Nope. Just keep your eyes and ears open.”

  The Serenity Senior Center was a small pink-brick building on a grassy lot. It had white columns and a portico in front and white shutters on the windows. Ironically, it had once been a funeral home, but the funeral home had outgrown the space and built a much larger facility a few blocks away.

  Inside there were two front parlors on either side of the door. One was book-lined and filled with comfortable chairs. A flyer posted next to the doorway listed upcoming programs that would be offered, including a lecture series by professors from a nearby community college. The other room had been set up with card tables, and even now there were a dozen or so seniors playing canasta, bridge and gin rummy at the different tables.

  “Why are we here?” Sarah asked, glancing curiously around the foyer, which had a faded Oriental carpet on the floor and a table that had been polished to such a shine that the vase of hydrangeas sitting in the middle reflected in the wood.

  “I’m looking for Elizabeth Johnson. Do you know her?”

  “Everyone in town knows Liz,” she said at once. “She’s right over there. She’s playing cards with Flo Decatur—that’s Helen’s mother—and two people I don’t know.”

  She directed his gaze across the room to a woman with snow-white hair that curled softly around her lined face. Her blue eyes sparkled alertly as she studied her cards, then snatched up the previous player’s discard and triumphantly declared, “Gin” as she spread her cards on the table.

  “Not again,” another woman at the table moaned. “I don’t know why we even bother playing. You always win, Liz.”

  “Well, of course I do. I pay attention to the game, instead of Jake Cudlow over at the next table.”

  The other woman flushed. “Will you keep your voice down, please? You’re embarrassing me.”

  “You’re an embarrassment to yourself, Beverly,” Liz countered. “If you’re interested, just invite him to dinner and stop ruining our card games by not concentrating.”

  Travis chuckled. “You know, it’s really amazing,” he said, lowering his voice. “I saw an old picture of her as a young woman and got this idea in my head of what she’d be like now. She’s exactly the way I expected her to be—feisty and full of life. Do you actually know her? Can you introduce us?”

  “Sure, but I’m not sure I understand why.”

  “I’m not a hundred percent sure myself. I just know I want to get to know her. I’m also thinking she’d be a great guest for your show. She must have an amazing perspective on the history of Serenity.” Travis had forgotten to keep his voice low as he said this, and he saw the object of his speculation gaze right at him.

  “I may be old, young man, but I still have excellent hearing,” Liz called out to him. “And just so you know, I don’t go all the way back to the days of the slaves, and that’s when this town was founded.” She beckoned to him. “Come over here.”

  Travis grinned at having been caught talking about her. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Liz’s gaze assessed him from head to toe. “You’re that boy who bought the radio station, am I right? I recognize your voice. You have quite a way about you on the air.”

  “Thank you.”

  She turned to Sarah. “Don’t hang back there, Sarah. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, but I’d know you anywhere. You look just like your mama did at your age.”

  She introduced the two of them to her companions, then turned back to Travis. “I gather you wished to speak to me. Any particular reason?”

  “As I was telling Sarah, I thought perhaps you’d like to come to the station one day and talk about your memories of Serenity.”

  “And? You have something else on your mind, too, don’t you?”

  Travis needed more time to decide if he could trust his instinct on the rest. “I do, but let’s start with the show, if you’re willing.”

  “Oh, there’s nothing Liz likes doing more than talking,” her friend Beverly chimed in with a wicked glint in her eyes. “Isn’t that right, Liz?”

  “True enough,” Liz said, clearly not offended. “Whom will I be talking to? You, Sarah?”

  Sarah nodded. “I would love it.”

  “Perhaps, if you’re finished with your card game, we could have lunch at Sullivan’s and discuss the topics the two of you might cover,” Travis suggested. “Do you have the time, Liz? May I call you that? Or would you prefer Mrs. Johnson?”

  Liz’s eyes twinkled. “Liz is perfectly fine. Something tells me the two of us are going to become great friends. It’s been a long time since I had a man your age courting me.”

  “Their loss,” Travis said. “Would the rest of you like to join us?”

  “Wouldn’t dream of intruding,” Beverly said. “Liz was always a bit selfish when it came to keeping her men to herself.”

  “Besides, Beverly has her eye on Jake Cudlow,” Flo Decatur countered. “She’s hoping he’ll invite her out for ice cream after he finishes this hand of bridge.”

  “Another time, then,” Travis said, giving Beverly a wink. He leaned closer and whispered, “Good luck with Mr. Cudlow.”

  Liz Johnson drew herself up to her full five-feet-two-inches and walked out with him and Sarah. Though she carried a cane with a silver handle, she clearly didn’t rely on it.

  In the parking lot, she took one look at Travis’s bright red convertible and her eyes lit up. “You are going to put that top down, aren’t you?” she asked eagerly.

  “If you’d like me to,” he told her.

  “It’s the only reason to have a convertible, don’t you think? Seems a waste not to have it down.” Her expression turned nostalgic. “My late husband had a convertible when we met. We used to take a spin in it every evening. I think that’s why I married him, because I loved that car so much.”

  All the way to Sullivan’s, she regaled them with stories of her courtship and the rides they’d taken in Henry Johnson’s baby-blue convertible with its white top.

  Though Travis encouraged her to sort through a variety of topics they could discuss on the air, Liz kept slipping surreptitious glances his way. At the end of the meal, she put her napkin down on the table and looked him in the eye.

  “Okay, young man, what is this really about? You’re not trying to butter me up so I’ll lower the price on my house, are you?”

  Sarah’s gaze shot to him. “You’re buying her house?”

  Travis flushed guiltily. “I looked at it this morning, but I haven’t put in an offer.” He regarded Liz apologetically. “And I swear to you this was only about meeting you. When Mary Vaughn was telling me about your circumstances and then I saw your property, I had this crazy idea, but I wasn’t sure it could work. Now I’m convinced it can, if you’ll just hear me out.”

  Liz regarded him with suspicion, but she nodded. “I’ll listen.”

>   “First, let me be sure I have my facts straight. Your son wants you to move to an assisted living facility?”

  She made a face. “True enough.”

  “And you don’t want to go.”

  “Of course not. My friends are here, but he does have a point. The house is getting to be too much for me. And the rest of the family is scattered. He’s the closest, but he’s in Columbia. It’s inconvenient for him to be driving back and forth over here every time I sneeze.”

  Travis hadn’t planned to do something this impulsive without giving the matter more thought, but since Liz had called him on having ulterior motives, he had little choice but to float the idea here and now.

  “Would you consider staying on in the guest house?” he blurted. “I’ll buy the property, but you’ll continue to live there for as long as you choose. Rent free, of course.”

  Sarah stared at him in shock. Liz’s eyes immediately filled with tears.

  “Why would you even suggest such a thing?” Liz asked, but the hopeful note in her voice told him she desperately wanted to believe the offer was sincere.

  “It just seems wrong to make you leave your home when you’re not ready to do it,” he said. “I’m sure your son’s heart is in the right place and he’s looking out for your interests, but when Mary Vaughn filled me in, none of it set right with me. Then, when I saw the guest cottage, it seemed to me there was another solution.” He met her gaze. “If you’re interested.”

  Liz’s frail hand covered his. Only a faint tremble gave away how moved she was by his suggestion. “Young man, I think you may be the most generous, kind-hearted person I’ve ever met, but I think we both need to take some time to think about this. We’ve just met. By morning you might regret being so impulsive.”

  “I won’t,” Travis said flatly. “But if you want some time, take all that you need. You’ll want to speak to your family, too, I’m sure. Why don’t Sarah and I take you home, and then I’ll stop by tomorrow morning and we can discuss this some more.”