by Susan Sands
“It was funny. Like, off the charts hilarious, Cammie. If Jessica Greene had been seriously injured instead of howling like a banshee at you for messing up her hair, it wouldn’t have been nearly so comical. Her problem right now is that she looks the fool, not you.”
“That’s what Jason says.” She sighed. Her phone was turned off because she was in the hospital. He’d likely tried to reach her.
“Jason does sound good for you, perfect or not.”
“He’s a great guy.”
“So, when do we get to meet him?”
“At the wedding, if I have my say.” She was only partly joking.
“Oh, come on. We’re not that bad. Or maybe you’re worried we won’t like him.” Her handsome brother’s dark eyebrow’s furrowed. “When’s the wedding, by the way?”
“We haven’t set a date.” This was one of the conversations she’d hoped to avoid. Ben was way too perceptive.
“Are you waiting because you aren’t sure, or because he hasn’t met your family?” Ben asked.
“No, it’s definitely you people and your bad behavior I’m concerned about.” They would eat Jason, and his slick-city self, alive down here in po-dunk Alabama. With everything else happening, sitting down and discussing dates just hadn’t happened yet. Maybe Jason had tried and she hadn’t been ready at the time. She couldn’t remember why.
“Grey Harrison is available if you think Jason won’t measure up,” he said.
She shot him another nasty look. “That’s low, even for you.” She knew better than to take his poor humor seriously. “The man just lost his wife.” While Cammie hadn’t lived in Alabama for years, her siblings hadn’t kept her completely in the dark regarding her former best friend’s death.
It was one of the emotional scabs she’d hoped might one day fade into a barely discernable scar. No chance for the two women to gain or give forgiveness. It all lay squarely on Cammie’s heart. Deb had rarely crossed her mind anymore, until she’d died a year ago.
*
The doctors were satisfied that Mom’s surgery had gone exactly as it should and she wasn’t in danger, so everyone besides Jo Jo left the hospital for the day. Jo would take the first shift at Mom’s bedside after the anesthesia wore off. Cammie headed back toward Evangeline House with the intention of first showering.
Her stomach did a sickening little flip at the knowledge that Grey might still be there when she arrived back at the house. How could she face him daily? The old questions she’d shoved down in the stinky sealed pit of their shared past began to nag at the edges of her thoughts. She guessed it was normal, since it was the first time they’d seen one another after all this time.
Cammie was happy now with her love life, but that big, awful painful break with Grey had changed the course of her life, and now they were thrown together again after so many years, and the pain seemed far fresher than she would have imagined.
Grey and Cammie’d been so young and crazy in love. Sure, they’d argued the night he’d turned to Deb, but it hadn’t been a huge blowout. When her best friend had turned up pregnant out of the clear blue with his child, Cammie had simply run from the horror and humiliation of the situation, refusing to talk to Grey. She hadn’t even wanted to know why. His betrayal had just been too painful.
As she pulled into the drive at Mom’s, she noticed two things—Grey was out in the front yard, and he was with a young girl. Cammie felt like she’d been hit as realization struck. The child looked like him. How could she have forgotten about his and Deb’s daughter? More like, she’d avoided thinking about her so far.
Lucy, her niece, was also there. Great. Lucy and Grey’s daughter must be about the same age. Perhaps they were friends.
Lucy turned with a giant grin when she recognized her aunt inside the car. By the time Cammie climbed out, Lucy was waiting to greet her.
“Hi, Aunt Cammie.” The child flung her arms around Cammie’s waist.
She returned the enthusiastic greeting, though it continued to baffle Cammie how huggy her entire family had always been. They considered Aunt Cammie the least outwardly affectionate of the bunch. Everyone loved her, but she just wasn’t the touchy-feely type. That was how they often described her, anyway. It wasn’t a compliment.
“Hi, Lucy. I think you’ve grown a foot since I saw you at Christmas.” She took in her lovely, young niece’s auburn hair and startling blue eyes. Her oldest sister, Maeve, was the only other one in the family who’d come into those blue eyes from somewhere back on the family tree.
“My mom had to buy me a bunch of new clothes when school started ’cause all my jeans were too short.” Lucy did seem rather tall for ten years old.
“Well, that’s not such a bad thing.” Cammie continued to try to ignore Grey.
She really did love her nieces and nephews. They were the closest thing she had to her own children. Sadly, she didn’t get back to Ministry as often as children should see family members. It was entirely her fault—though it had been easy to blame her high-flying career—until now.
“Aunt Cammie, this is my friend, Samantha. She moved here when school started.” Samantha took a few steps toward Cammie for the introduction. She raised her eyes shyly. Cammie was stunned at their deep green, so like Grey’s. Her hair was straight and silky and black as midnight—Deb’s hair.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Samantha.” She extended her hand toward the child, who reciprocated.
She was an undeniably gorgeous little girl. A perfect combination of her parents, without a doubt. Cammie turned as Grey approached them. “Sammie, are you ready to head home?”
Sammie to rhyme with Cammie slapped her in the face—hard. Cammie and Grey’s starry-eyed teenaged plan had been to name their first born child of either sex Sam or Samantha. He and Deb had taken that special plan and made a mockery of it. Hadn’t she shared the name with Deb once? Just one more insult to Cammie via Grey and Deb.
Disgusted by the grimy memories, Cammie turned her back on Grey and excused herself to go inside. Hearing his daughter’s name made it impossible for her to even muster the courtesy of a greeting. As she entered the house through the front door, Cammie stomped straight inside with the rest of her bags and spent the next couple hours unpacking and playing mindless games on her laptop and watching TV in her room. She’d given up on social media since it’d become her worst nightmare.
Ben was picking her up later, and they planned to visit with Mom and go out for a quiet dinner to catch up. Though, here in Ministry and surrounding areas, having a quiet dinner with her brother was an unlikely event due to his almost obscene popularity with the locals, both women and men, but mostly women.
Once Mom was out of the hospital, Cammie would be doing double-duty running Evangeline House and helping out with her care, so her time visiting with Ben would be sparse at best. In addition to his bizarre local popularity, which amused them all greatly, he remained continuously slammed with his family law practice. Busy to the point of nuts. From neighborly disputes over cattle to defending criminal cases, his was a wide and varied caseload.
Avoiding Grey for several weeks might be tricky if he was underfoot inside the house; but it was a really big house. This lingering animosity wasn’t bringing out the best in her. She wondered at her surge of fresh anger over the past. Ten years seemed like yesterday.
Chapter Three
‡
“No, I’m fine,” She again reassured Jason. Cammie’d been so happy to hear his voice this morning.
“Just checking. So, what’s on your agenda today?”
“I’m getting started on things here in Mom’s office and then heading to the kitchen to check out the supplies.”
“I figured you’d have gone straight to the food first thing.”
Mom had told her not to worry about the food for the upcoming events, which seemed strange. Evangeline House had an excellent reputation for its strong catering menu.
“Gee, thanks.” She laughed, but understood hi
s meaning. The kitchen was her thing, her love. She was in her creative element there. “I really haven’t had a chance yet. I even left yesterday without coffee, if you can believe it.”
“Was there a fire?” Of course she didn’t say what had her so upset she’d left her mother’s house without her shot of caffeine.
She often wondered how she had gotten so lucky with Jason. He seemed not to care that she was odd and from the real-life setting of Deliverance. He found her adorable—after really getting to know her, and he continued to proudly escort her out in public despite her infamous fall from grace.
“I want to fly down south in the next couple of weeks.”
“It’s not winter yet. You might not have all your feathers.”
“Funny.”
“I thought so.” She had to find a way to talk him out of this madness of meeting her family.
“No really. I want to catch a flight down to Alabama and meet your family.”
“Not if I can help it.” She joked, sort of.
“Oh, come on, they can’t be that bad.”
“My family will eat you alive and pick their teeth with your bones.” There wasn’t a trace of laughter in her tone.
“Lovely image,” he said.
“You’ve been warned.”
She heard someone call his name in the background. “Sorry, hon, I’ll call you later. Keep your head up. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
She was still smiling when the phone rang on her mother’s desk and startled her out of her happy bubble. “The Evangeline House, how may we assist you?”
Her morning went along, as might her mother’s, making appointments, providing answers to questions she was able, and promising to call back those she couldn’t immediately satisfy. Half the day slipped by somehow, and as Cammie ended a call regarding particular provisions for petting zoo animals as part of a themed outdoor wedding reception, a ruckus caught her attention.
A little girl with bouncing blonde curls, no older than three, came shrieking around the corner with a barefoot boy hot on her trail. The boy, maybe seven, held the largest bullfrog Cammie had ever seen, the long legs dangled below its body, and bored and bulging eyes stared blandly amidst human excitement.
Spotting Auntie Cammie behind Granny Maureen’s desk, Blondie seized her opportunity. The tiny tot obviously understood the universal unspoken law about girls sticking together when threatened by boys and slimy creatures.
The tot launched herself across the desk into Cammie’s arms, wailing and begging for protection. Cammie instinctively wrapped the shaking, little body in a tight embrace. She could feel her harsh breathing and sensed real fear of the harmless frog. Flashbacks of torture by slimy creatures from her own childhood prompted instant empathy for this frightened child.
The little boy stopped dead at the door’s threshold, causing the big-eyed toad’s legs to sway. He seemed—flummoxed. “Well, dang it, Susie. This little fella can’t hurt nobody. You didn’t have to go runnin’ to the grown ups.” He admonished his sibling, then turned to Cammie.
“Pardon us, Aunt Cammie.” He flushed under his freckles, head hung.
Cammie made a quick decision on how this would go. She pried the little girl’s face from the front of her blouse and looked down into gorgeous, saucer-sized blue eyes.
First, a proper greeting. She smiled what she hoped was an unintimidating smile, “Good morning, you two.” She’d not seen them in awhile, but knew her mom wouldn’t allow them to run around, frogs a-flying, with potential clients in and out.
“Mornin’, Aunt Cammie.” They replied in unison.
“Does Granny Maureen let you run around here while she conducts her business?” At their grimaces, she figured not.
“Well, she won’t hear about this from me if you promise not to come tearing through here again, especially carrying creatures that belong outside.”
Both children heaved a sigh of what she took as relief. Hoping to smooth out the situation, Cammie added, “I do believe that bullfrog is a girl.”
“She is?” This from Susie, whose eyes grew even rounder. She adorably lisped every ‘s.’
Cammie continued, “She might even have babies of her own.” Shame appeared on the face of her nephew.
“I didn’t mean to keep her away from her babies. Just looked like a plain old frog to me.” He defended his position.
Cammie nodded at Dirk and turned to his sister. “Susie, your brother is right. This bullfrog won’t hurt you. She’s not very pretty, but she doesn’t bite or sting, or anything. Dirk, bring her over here so Susie can have a closer look. It’s alright, I’m here.” Susie wasn’t totally convinced, but she appeared less afraid.
“Perhaps we should give her a name,” suggested Cammie.
“Could I name her?” Susie asked.
“What do you think, Dirk?” Cammie deferred to her nephew.
“Sure—I guess. But I never named a frog before.” Dirk tried his best to hide his skepticism for what Cammie figured he believed a ridiculous idea.
“Penelope. Her name is Penelope. Her’s not so ugly.” Everyone eyed the amphibian in question. Penelope continued to quietly dangle from Dirk’s grasp, eyes bulging.
Cammie had to agree. “No, she’s not. Would you like to go with Dirk to take her home in case she has tadpoles or baby frogs looking for her?”
“Yesth. C’mon, Dirk, but you still have to hold her. Her might jump ’way from me.” Susie hopped out of Cammie’s lap and sidled up next to her brother.
“Thanks, Aunt Cammie. We promise not to go tearin’ through here no more,” Dirk said.
“Yes, we promise,” agreed blue-eyed Susie.
“Good. And, do you promise you’ll stop in to visit after you’ve cleaned up a bit and checked to see there aren’t any cars parked outside?” They both nodded.
After the pair trotted away, toad in tow, a wistful smile continued to play about Cammie’s lips. The scent of little girl tears, sweat, and the sweet essence of baby shampoo clung to her blouse, triggering an unexpected longing for—something she didn’t want to think about right now. She and Jason hadn’t gotten that far.
*
So far this morning, Cammie hadn’t noticed any signs of Grey’s presence. No obnoxious hammering outside her window to start the day, thank goodness. Maybe he was home with Samantha instead of spending the day under her feet or up on a ladder.
After making a couple of lists and notes in the calendar’s margin for the next few days, she decided to check stock for catering. Amazingly, Cammie hadn’t yet entered the main kitchen since her arrival so early yesterday. She’d made coffee in the caterer/butler’s nook outside the family dining area and grabbed a yogurt from the mini fridge there early this morning. So, now it was time to get a handle on how things were running around here if she was going to be in charge for the next few weeks.
As she entered through the swinging door and flipped the light switch, Cammie could hardly process the scene that greeted her. It was a proverbial ghost kitchen. Normally, the bustling heart of this thriving home and business, it was dark, quiet, and devoid of all supplies—save a few half-empty staples on the sadly deserted open pantry shelving.
Her mother hadn’t put a great deal of money into overhauling the entire kitchen area in a while, but until recently, it had been in nice shape. She’d fixed problems as they’d arisen, replaced appliances as needed, and maintained a neat and workable space for a business that served memorable food and catered the largest events in town.
This—this was disturbing. One of the ovens was obviously not working, judging by the items stored inside. There were folded dishtowels stacked, clean, but sitting atop the counter. The open pantry space, normally full to overflowing with staples for making fresh pastries, cakes, and hors d’oeuvres gaped with empty spaces. A few bags of flour, rice, and some large cans of tomato sauce hunkered in an otherwise bare shelf. But all the fresh items were either sadly dried up or absent.
&n
bsp; She made her way to the subzero refrigerator and discovered milk, eggs, and a few of the normal items one might have inside, or for a single person’s sustenance.
Confusion gave way to frustrated anger. Why had no one told her about this? How were they still catering events? It was obvious just then—they weren’t.
“H-hello?” She was jerked out of her shocked, angry state by a timid and uncertain sounding young voice.
Naturally assuming she would come ’round to face one of the many related kinsfolk the place was so often virtually teeming with, Cammie found herself at a loss.
She hadn’t expected Grey Harrison’s daughter in the kitchen just now. “Samantha. Can I help you?”
“I was looking for Lucy. I didn’t mean to interrupt—” She was a tiny thing, with silky, straight, and black-as-midnight hair. Her emerald green eyes appeared huge against translucent skin and prominent cheekbones that promised great beauty. She was stunning, but thin and angular, in that ’tween stage where nothing fits together quite right. And she probably thought Cammie looked like she was ready to take off someone’s head—which she had been.
“I haven’t seen her in here, but I can help try and find her if you’d like.” Having some notion of what the child had been through recently, she’d never take the chance of embarrassing her or making her feel unwelcome. After all, she was a child.
“Thanks.” Sam’s young voice was barely above a squeak.
“There you are, Sam!” Lucy came scuttling in sideways on one foot from a full run, rounding the corner inside the doorway. “Hey, Aunt Cammie.”
Then she turned to her friend, “C’mon, Sam. Let’s go play Frisbee.”
Cammie understood two things. If Samantha was in her home, so must her father be nearby. And judging by the state of this kitchen, her doggone family had misled her about more than what they’d admitted so far.
