Fireflies and Lies (A Summerbrook Novel Book 4)

by Vicki Wilkerson

  “Hey, big guy!” She stood there for a moment. Amazed. “You look great.”

  “Is that for me?” he asked, his eyes lighting his face.

  She smiled. “Of course.” She handed the game to him and put the tote on the chair behind her.

  “Another football game? I loved the last one you bought me.” He started tearing into the box.

  “Well, aren’t you the strong one,” she said as she glanced at her best friend. Who had a huge smile on her face. Ben was so special to April. And to her.

  “Well, let’s get back to the way you look. And feel. So, I hear the bone marrow transplant went well.” She put her purse down beside the tote.

  April nodded, still staring at Ben.

  “But it hurt,” he said. “Felt like I’d been climbing a hundred trees.”

  She chuckled. “I know, little buddy, but they had to do it for you to get better.”

  “Yeah, they say I can go back to school in the fall.”

  “That’s why I brought by these books and games…for entertainment and to hold you over until then. Cause you’re not going to need me any longer.”

  “Miss Jenna, you still have to come by my house to visit me.” He got the cartridge out and pushed it into his device.

  “Oh, baby, I will. I just won’t see you as often. And that’s a good thing. Cause you’re getting better.” It saddened her a little, but this was not a time for any sadness from anyone.

  The three friends visited for a while, until Jenna and April headed to the cafeteria for a late lunch.

  After picking up a couple of salads, they found an empty table in the corner of the open dining room. Ivy hung down from the planters on the second story.

  “So, Miss Secretive, what is up with you today? You know you’re acting weird. Right?” April picked at her salad with her fork.

  “Just tying up loose ends in my life.” It felt good to say that. So many things needed to be settled. And there wasn’t one time this whole afternoon that Jenna had thought about counting in French.

  She inhaled a deep breath of bravery. “I need a favor. You know like the ones I did for you for the fundraisers—the auction, the golf tournament and the bike rally.”

  “Which went off amazingly well, I might add,” April said between bites.

  Jenna took a bite of her salad. “Remember. You were the one who got me all tied up in this whole thing anyway. Even after I tried to rescue you.”

  April smiled. “Ask. Maybe I could help.”

  “Well, I’ve got to move forward and get my affairs settled one way or another. Things are all messed up at the plantation, and I have to make sure everything is going to be okay. For my parents and for Jasper and Amberlee.”

  “I know, sweetie. I’m so sorry you’re having to face all that.” April put down her fork and gave all her attention to Jenna. “How are Hogan and Savannah doing?”

  She let out a long, sad breath. “His ex-wife Bentley is out there with them now. Not exactly sure what’s going on there. I need to give them space to see how things work out—even though I have an idea about the way things will turn out in the end.” She glanced out the large window beside them at one of the tall steeples that decorated Charleston, which was also known as the Holy City. If only the city were holy enough to wash them all clean from their sins. But Charleston was—in reality—even less holy than Summerbrook, and she tried to stay away from the likes of the Charleston Ladies League and people like Bentley. They were snakes of a different sort.

  April shook her head. “I wish I could help.”

  She flattened a smile. “Good thing is…physically, Hogan and Savannah are both doing very well. Hogan’s hip gets stronger every day. And you could hardly tell that anything ever happened to Savannah.” She brightened. “You should have seen the way the little angel took to me. Attached to me.” Tears filled her eyes. “It was like she was…mine.”

  April reached out and touched her hand.

  “So, what’s going on with you and Hogan?”

  She shook her head. “Don’t really know.” She closed her eyes. “You know I went out to the farm to give him back his ring.” She looked down at it.

  “I see that you didn’t.”

  “Didn’t have time. The accident happened and…there never seemed to be the right time.”

  “Kind of like how Hogan never seemed to find the right time to tell you about Savannah…and Bentley…and the farm.”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  “And if I’m guessing correctly, I bet you never fully told him about your brother. And your therapy.” She paused. “And your…difficulties.”

  She nodded.

  “We all have timing issues sometimes, Jenna. You. Me. Hogan.”

  Yep. This was all about timing. And Jenna was running out of it.

  April took a few more bites of her salad. “Anyway, how can I help you?”

  “Okay. This is what I need. You know that fashion show I got roped into. The one at the motorcycle shop?” She pointed her fork at April.

  April ran her fingers along the pearls at her neck and nodded.

  With a full mouth, she said, “Well, I need you to help me tonight. With rehearsal.”

  Her best friend nodded. “Okay. I’ll be your assistant.”

  This was easier than she thought. “And model on Saturday.”

  “Wait a minute.”

  Hmmm. Maybe not. “And Bull, too.”

  April let out a huge laugh. People beside them looked their way. “You’ve got to be kidding. “Bullworth Clayton? Model? Are you serious?”

  “You asked what I needed.” She straightened and touched the firefly that was around her neck. “That’s what I need. Hogan’s walking like a pirate right now with his hip.” A sexy pirate, but a pirate, nonetheless. “There’s no way he can do it. Everything we make goes to help pay Ben’s hospital bills. Ultimately.”

  April closed her eyes for a moment. Then opened them and shook her head and took out her cell phone. “This is going to be…fun.”

  She hit a speed dial number.

  April gave Jenna a stern look. “Hi, Bull. First of all…sit down. And don’t say no before you hear me out.” April stood and walked to the window to finish her conversation with Bull.

  She glanced at her best friend pacing at the window. She should have been worried about April falling through, but she wasn’t. In the end, when it was important, they always came through for one another. And April owed her.

  April walked back to the table and put the phone down. “You are not going to believe this, but he’s going to help. Bull said he’d be one of your models.”

  “Then it’s all settled.” Well, almost everything. “See you two tonight then.”

  She checked off one more thing on her laundry list. The remaining item wasn’t going to be so easy, though.

  ⸙

  A fashion show with a bunch of bikers was the last thing Jenna wanted to do. But she felt the responsibility pull at her, and for the first time in her life, she was responding. Because for the first time in her life, she was adulting—if that was even a word. Taking responsibility for her life—in every way—felt like the right thing to do.

  She wanted her entire field to be cleared for the new crop, as it were.

  All the calls had been made. All the favors had been called in. All her friends were helping.

  Jenna arrived at Thorpe’s Custom Cycles. She inhaled the deepest breath she’d ever inhaled. Here goes nothing. She pulled out the box for the fashion show from her trunk and entered through the front door.

  The mullet crew were all leaning behind the front desk with what looked like…snarls on their faces. At least they’d put up the stage she’d ordered.

  “Someone get that box from the pretty lady,” Buck said. No one rushed to help. Just then Colton came up behind her and grabbed the container.

  “I’m afraid my brother wouldn’t like it if he saw you guys just loitering behind that counter when so much
work needs to be done,” Colton said.

  Each one lumbered toward the stage at his own pace. Sea Pig last.

  Jenna was so glad to see Colton’s friendly face. “What did you tell Hogan?”

  “He already knew about the show, of course. Saw it advertised in the paper and on the TV.” He paused. “He asked about you.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I lied. I told him I didn’t know how you were doing.”

  Something kicked Jenna in the gut. She was responsible for that lie.

  “I’m sorry I’ve put you in that position. I’ll fix everything. Eventually.”

  “Well, I hope so. I’ve never lied to my brother before.”

  She knew the feeling.

  “Anyway, he knew he couldn’t help, couldn’t be in the show.” He paused. “He’s worried that you hate him.”

  She snapped around. “You know that’s not true.”

  “I only know what I’ve been told, and you’ve told me not to say a word about your…Super secret, remember?”

  “I’m going to make it okay with him. Let me just take care of some things first.”

  She desperately wanted to ask him how Bentley was working out, but she didn’t want to sound…desperate…or nosy…or jealous, which she was.

  “Bullworth!” Colton put down the box and headed over to April’s biker.

  April came through the door next—along with Charlene, Hanna, and Callie. Her friends, the people she could always count on in a pinch.

  She hugged her friends and then Lydia Stroble, who had started this whole thing, walked through with her entourage. At least Jenna had enough participants for the show.

  After greeting them all, Jenna enlisted Hickey to help her set up the speaker system they’d rented, and she climbed upon the stage.

  She told them all about where to stand, when to walk out, and how to turn at the end of the runway.

  The mullet crew grumbled, and the ladies all nodded.

  She asked Dickey to set out the tape to mark the spots she showed them.

  She handed Wilder the CDs for the show, and he rifled through them with a disappointed look on his face. “Is this all the music you have?” he asked.

  “Yeah. We’ve used those before for the boutique.”

  “This here ain’t no boutique,” he said. “And this ain’t gonna be like no fashion show for fancy ladies in fancy hats. We got a lot of bikers comin’ to this shindig.” He tossed the CDs by the sound system. “I’ve got some more appropriate stuff in my office. I’ll be right back.”

  “Heavens to Betsy,” she said as she looked at April.

  April shrugged her shoulders. “You’ve just got to go with the flow.”

  Jenna huffed. Then she thought. Somehow, going with “the flow” felt like the right thing to do. Jenna could no longer micro-manage everything into the perfect world she had once wished it to be. Life is messy.

  Wilder returned with a strange grin on his face and sat down beside the speaker system’s control panel and loaded up the CDs he’d retrieved. He looked at Jenna.“Ready when you are, boss.”

  She lined up the participants at the back and gave them their instructions. It was time for the dry run. “Hit it, Wilder.”

  He pressed the power button. Over the sound system, boomed the song “International,” one of the tunes from Zoolander. Great. They were all taking it as a joke.

  ⸙

  The next morning Hogan awoke to Bentley rustling around in the kitchen. He lay in his bed and listened to the whining.

  “Hogan. Hogan, is anyone going to come in to make coffee today?” Bentley yelled.

  She had no idea how hard it was for him to still move around with his healing hip. He slowly moved one leg over the side of the tall rice bed and then the other. He used the antique steps to maneuver to the floor.

  He needed to get in there to make the coffee for her, or he’d never hear the end of it.

  “Hogan, don’t you have one of those little coffee pod machines?” He heard her call out from the kitchen again.

  A cell phone rang in the distance. He was sure it was Bentley’s.

  “I’m coming, Bentley.” He put on his robe and grabbed his cane. He’d been spoiled by Jenna, who’d been bringing him coffee in bed—until Bentley had shown up. He had been getting sort of used to it.

  He heard Bentley’s heels flip flopping on the hardwood floor of the hall, heading into the guest bedroom. She was squealing something into the phone in her “fake excited” voice.

  He lumbered into the hall and stopped by Savannah’s door to check on her. She was staring out the window. All locked up. As usual. Things were back to normal without Jenna. Their bad normal.

  In the corner was the pink princess house she and Jenna had painted. His little angel had been spending more and more time in it, trying to soothe herself.

  Bentley came out of the guest room with her purse, keys dangling and checking her cell with her free hand. “Hogan, I’m going into town to get some Starbucks.”

  “Starbucks? But Bentley, that’s a long way to go for coffee.”

  She looked up and bent her head and held up her phone. “Just got a text. The Charleston Ladies League cookbook committee chose me last night to chair the committee this year. It’s such an honor.”

  “Bentley, seriously. You don’t even know how to make coffee. And you’re going to steer the cookbook committee?” Hogan had absolutely no patience with this woman.

  “Silly, you don’t need to know how to cook. You just need to be able to organize, direct, and motivate.”

  Bentley couldn’t even do that really. Now, if they needed someone to socialize, gossip and boss people around, Bentley would be their girl. When he thought about it, that was what Bentley meant by organize, direct, and motivate. She’d simply do it by socializing, gossiping, and bossing people around. Perfect.

  Her cell rang. “Hi, Peaches! Oh. My. God. Yes. I got your text, and I’m on my way.” She paused and looked at her watch. “Forty minutes tops.” She listened. “Oh, nothing important. I’m out in the sticks.” She laughed. “Actually, there’s hardly even any sticks out here. Mostly hay and corn.” She laughed. “Yes! I’m so excited. See you in a bit.” She fake kissed into the phone’s receiver.

  He stared incredulously.

  “So, congratulate me and wish me luck!” She leaned toward him to give him a hug or an air kiss on his cheek or something, but he pulled back to look into Savannah’s room again.

  “Aren’t you going to say goodbye to your daughter?”

  “Well, I can. But she won’t hear me anyway. Never does.” She put her cell phone in her purse. “Is she going to grow out of this…thing—this state she’s in?”

  “Our daughter has autism. And no. She’ll never grow out of it. All we can do is help her with it. Help her survive it.” But all this leaving and change and turmoil was never going to help.

  And then she was gone, too.

  And Hogan and Savannah were alone again.

  Without Jenna.

  ⸙

  The next day arrived, and Jenna stopped by the shop to pick up the dresses they’d put aside for the show.

  “How’d things go?” Mrs. Legare asked.

  “Oh, they went,” Jenna said. “I’ve got to get to the showroom and put the correct outfits in the correct offices, uh, dressing rooms.

  “Jenna, dear, I knew I could count on you to make everything go off without a hitch.”

  “Oh, Mrs. Legare, they’ll go off without a hitch all right.” A hitch was like a hiccup to Jenna. This wasn’t going to be a hiccup. No, this was going to be a full-blown disaster.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I close the shop, dear. I can’t wait to see all our new arrivals on the models.”

  Jenna put down the dresses in her arms. “You do know that the guys who work in the motorcycle are going to be modeling the stuff from their shop, right?” Her insides were a mess. The funny thing was that she still hadn’t count
ed in French. And she hadn’t even tried to organize a thing. What was up with that?

  “Dear, I know precisely what I’d gotten into when I signed up. Let’s not forget why we are all doing this. Ben’s hospital bills. And I get a lot of free publicity. Right?”

  “Right. But is this the kind you need for the shop?”

  Mrs. Legare grabbed Jenna by the arms. “Look. You let me worry about that. My regular customers won’t go anywhere. The mayor’s wife was in here the other day, pouring over the dresses and was so excited that she could hardly contain herself. That lady wants to be on a catwalk more than…Right Said Fred.”

  They burst out laughing. “Well, it’s too late to worry about it now anyway.”

  “Exactly. And I’m hoping it’ll bring in more business, outsiders who don’t usually shop in expensive little French dress shops who offer free tailoring.” Mrs. Legare pulled the measuring tape from her neck. “Sit down, dear.”

  They both took a seat on the round lipstick-colored tufted sofa in the middle of the store.

  “You look…different, dear. Is everything all right?” The older woman had a furrow between her brows.

  “I am different, Mrs. Legare. In a good way. Though it may not look like it right now because I have so many irons in the fire, I am different inside. I finally have…focus. Real focus.”

  “Does it have anything to do with that handsome man that sent you all those lovely flowers?”

  Jenna thought about her answer carefully. “Yes, he was the catalyst, the thing that inspired me. I got some ideas while I was taking care of him and his little girl on his farm. But it goes way beyond that.”

  She nodded. “That is wonderful, dear. I’ve often worried about your…direction. And when you came in here without your Louboutins…”

  Jenna looked down. She was wearing her duck shoes. That showed her where her head was this morning when she left home. She simply laughed.

  ⸙

  The marquee by the road at the shop blinked: Leather and Lace Fashion Show, Tonight at 7 pm, All Proceeds go to the Ben Evans Fund.

  It was happening.

  As soon as she walked into the motorcycle shop showroom, she saw all the displays pushed up against the walls, and all the chairs had been set out. At least the guys were on top of things. She found Hickey by the helmets and asked him to show her the ladies motorcycle boots. She picked a pair of Harley-Davidson’s—Alexa Performance Boots. Why not look like her models and mix the leather and lace? She slipped on a pair of size sevens and took a look in the mirror at the end of the aisle. Not a bad look. In fact, she loved the juxtaposition of styles. Way more practical than Louboutins.