I miss you, Janie. I miss our friendship. I miss those carefree summer days down on the Lake, burying our toes in the sand and working on our suntans. I’ve made so many mistakes in my life, but one of my biggest was losing touch with you.
A knock on the car window startled her. She looked up to find the vice principal, Darla Gray, motioning for her to move the car forward. She mouthed the words “I’m sorry” and pulled ahead three places. She heard the bell ring and wondered if she should wait to finish Suzanne’s letter until later—once Sam was in the car she wouldn’t be able to concentrate. She didn’t want to rush through it; it felt like an unexpected treat in the middle of the week. She folded it closed, but curiosity got the better of her. Why would Suzanne choose now to get back in touch? After all this time? Why the change of heart after she’d been so deliberate in leaving?
I don’t know everything you’ve been through in the past twenty years—even Adele won’t go into details, but I do know that there’s still something magical here in Sweethaven, and I wish I could bottle it up and take it everywhere I go. Don’t you miss it, Janie? Don’t you miss walking down the street and knowing everyone? Don’t you miss picking out your fruit at the farmer’s market and the smell of grilled burgers every night? Don’t you miss the four of us—all the fun we had?
Jane stopped. They’d all pretended to hate that their parents dragged them to Sweethaven every summer, but once the four of them found each other it became the thing she looked forward to throughout the entire school year. Real life here in Iowa became the thing to dread.
Even now, she knew Sweethaven promised the kind of life most people only dreamed of. Simple. Warm. Inviting. And yet she’d cut Sweethaven out of her own life like a malignant tumor.
It felt like it all happened so long ago, but if she thought about it, she could put herself right back on that beach with her friends. She could smell the air, the suntan lotion mixed with the sweetness of summer—a light sweat and mosquito repellent. She hadn’t thought of it in so long.
I know I am at fault for what happened. I know if I hadn’t left maybe we all could’ve worked through everything and we would still be a part of each others’ lives today. Maybe. I guess some questions are bound to go unanswered.
Jane realized she was shaking her head as she read. Suzanne’s leaving had nothing to do with the rift that had separated them. Like aftershocks of a monumental earthquake, things just kept happening to drive them apart.
I just wanted you to know that I love you, and I will always love you. And I’m sorry I didn’t get in touch sooner. See, Janie, I’ve got cancer—and, well, it doesn’t look like I’m going to win this battle.
Jane gasped, then squinted through cloudy eyes.
When I get to heaven, I’m going to look down on you and make sure good things come your way. I’m writing in hopes that you will come to Sweethaven for the Blossom Festival. Meet me there. Eat a funnel cake with me for old time’s sake. And we can catch up and I can see you in real life one more time before I see Jesus.
Suzanne was dying?
Jane wiped away a tear. Her throat swelled around the lump that had grown. Swallowing suddenly seemed an impossible task. If only she had her sunglasses. She checked her eyes in the rearview mirror and blinked to force the tears away.
I wish things had turned out differently for all of us. I wish I’d come to my senses sooner, and hadn’t missed out on so many years of knowing everything about you. Take care of each other, Janie. Please. I hope I see you in May.
And I hope you always remember Sweethaven.
Suzanne was dying. And she wanted her to come back there.
Her friend had no idea what she asked of her. Jane swore she’d never go back to Sweethaven.
No matter what.
Sam popped the door open, startling her back to reality. She wiped her eyes one more time and tucked the card in her purse. Now that she knew what it said, it felt very precious.
“Hey, Mom.” Sam struggled to heave his backpack and lunchbox into the van.
Jane wondered how he managed to make a private school uniform look so disheveled.
“Hey, buddy, how was school?”
“It was the best day ever, Mom.”
Jane smiled at him in the rearview mirror. He said that every single day. He leaned forward.
“You okay, Mom? Your eyes look all red.”
“I’m good.” She put on a smile. “Get buckled, mister.”
Jane thanked God every day for Sam. Their little miracle baby. With his dark brown curls and scattered freckles across his nose, he epitomized the word “joy.” His delight in everything he did infected the rest of them. God knew exactly what they’d needed. She sometimes wondered if He sent Sam specifically for the purpose of bringing oxygen back to her lungs.
She glanced up at him in the mirror and saw he’d already lost himself in a book. She loved that about him. Suzanne would’ve loved her children. They would’ve loved her. She’d have been Auntie Sooze. And Jane would’ve been Auntie Jane. It’s what they’d always planned. Grow up. Buy houses next door to each other. Spend holidays together and summers in Sweethaven.
But none of that had happened. And now it was too late.
FOUR
Jane
That night, after the kids were in bed, Jane took Suzanne’s card out and held it in her hand, aware that it could very well be the last connection she had to her friend. She couldn’t go to the Blossom Festival, but she could call. She had a list of questions. What had Suzanne done with her life? How had things turned out for her? And her daughter? How old would she be now—twenty-four? An adult. And Jane had only ever seen her once.
“I think they’re all down for the count,” Graham said, entering the kitchen. He stopped when he saw her standing against the counter staring at the card. “What’s that?” A look of concern crossed his face.
Jane handed it to him. Though he’d never met Suzanne, he knew all about her. He knew how they’d all grown up together in that tiny town—a sort of safe haven that seemed to shelter them from the rest of the world. She’d made sure to tell him because they were so important to her. Yet, if they were so important to her, how had she let them all slip away?
“You should go.”
His words jarred her from her sorrow. “What?”
“You should go back.”
She stared at him, then shook her head. “No. Graham, I can’t.” The raw lump that had filled her throat all day stifled her ability to swallow. “There’re too many reasons to stay away from Sweethaven, and you know it.”
Graham paused. Sometimes his resolve annoyed her. How could he have moved on and forgiven? Why was he so good?
“Do you want to see if you can track down the others? At least see if they’re going before you make a decision.”
Just like that, he’d steadied her again.
“I can’t see Meghan making this trip—and Lila? She won’t go back either, Graham. Suzanne’s going to be at the Blossom Festival alone.”
“They might surprise you.”
She shook her head.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug.
She savored his strong arms around her and noticed she’d been completely disarmed at his touch. How did he do that?
He wiped a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb, then kissed her forehead. “Let me know if I can help, okay?”
She nodded.
“I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up too late.”
“I won’t.”
With the house quiet and her to-do list out of sight, Jane’s mind started to meander through her childhood—stories that almost always included Suzanne. Her friend had shown her what unconditional love was, at a time when she needed it most. Her mind drifted to the summer of 1983.
The smells of cotton candy and buttery popcorn floated in the air, blending perfectly with the breeze off the lake. The happy music from the carousel at the amusement park echoed across the beach as
the horses spun round and round. Jane licked her ice cream cone, wishing for just one ride.
The park bench bit into her legs, but inside the melody of the carousel matched her heartbeat.
“How’s that ice cream cone, Fatso?”
“It’s gonna go straight to your big old butt.”
Jane shrank in her twelve-year-old skin as she glared at the two girls standing in front of her. She’d been friends with Leanne and Lori last summer, but this summer something had changed. They stood, hands on hips, staring at her, as the blue moon ice cream melted all over her hand.
“Eat up, Porky.”
Tears stung Jane’s eyes, and she blinked to keep them from falling.
“At least she isn’t gonna need a plastic surgeon for her face.” The voice came from behind Jane. She spun around and saw a skinny brunette with a curly ponytail staring at the two girls. “You must know what it’s going to cost to fix those cartoon noses of yours?”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Jane’s friend. And you’re not—so get out of here.”
Leanne and Lori, as if on cue, rolled their eyes and sauntered off in the direction of the Boardwalk.
“I’m going to ride the carousel,” the dark-headed girl said. “Wanna come with me?” She wore an orange bathing suit and a pair of white terry-cloth shorts.
Jane turned away. The girl sat on the park bench beside her.
“Finish your cone and then we’ll go.” The girl twirled a strand of hair and made an I-know-what-you-want grin. She blew a large pink bubble with her gum and let it pop on her face.
“I’m not going on a dumb carousel.” The ice cream stuck in her throat, almost gagging her. Blue moon was her favorite and now she watched it turn to liquid in her hand.
“Don’t let those stupid girls get to you,” the girl said, pulling the sticky gum from her lips. “You don’t need them anyway. You’ve got me now. Once I’m your friend, I’m your friend for life.”
Jane watched as the girl pulled her legs up on the bench and crossed them in front of her.
“What’s your name?” Jane licked her ice cream just before it dripped on her hand.
“Suzanne. And you’re Jane.”
Jane frowned.
“My mom knows your mom. They met at some tea or something. My dad’s the pastor at Sweethaven Chapel this summer.” Suzanne looked at the cone in Jane’s hand. “You’re dripping.”
“Oh.” Jane licked the blue ice cream off her hand and tossed the cone in the garbage.
“I would’ve eaten that, ya know.”
“I licked all over it.” Jane scrunched her face.
“So? I don’t believe in germs.” Suzanne grinned. “You ready for the carousel or what?”
Jane pressed her lips together. “Thanks for that.”
Suzanne’s eyes widened. “For what?”
“For sticking up for me.” Jane looked away. “No one’s ever done that for me before.”
Suzanne grinned. “That’s what friends are for.”
Jane sat up straighter in the kitchen chair and realized she’d been crying. She wished she’d kept the entire scrapbook. She wished she had those photos—the four of them on the day they met, surrounded by all four souvenir tickets and their journaling about that day, written only a few months later at the end of the summer. By that point, she felt like she’d known Suzanne, Lila, and Meg her entire life, and none of them could wait to return to Sweethaven.
Maybe she could convince Suzanne to meet her somewhere else. It wouldn’t be this weekend, but soon.
But what if Suzanne didn’t have the time? What if she was too frail? This weekend could be the last chance to see her.
No, she couldn’t go back. She’d promised Alex. Suzanne was right—Sweethaven did have a certain magic to it, but for Jane, the magic had died a long time ago. Now, with Suzanne dying, the last bit of enchantment seemed to float away.
FIVE
Lila
Lila waved good-bye to Priscilla. In her black Lexus, she headed toward home, where she would begin to assess Priscilla’s latest changes. Designing the décor in the woman’s plantation home had originally excited Lila, but the more she worked with the woman, the less she enjoyed this job.
She’d opened her own interior design business years ago, back when she and Tom first started having trouble getting pregnant. She realized then that she needed something to occupy her days—and sipping tea with Mama’s friends wasn’t going to cut it.
She grabbed the mail and pulled into the driveway. Vast and spacious, the house seemed to taunt her barren womb every time she walked in. They’d bought the house with the intention of filling it with children.
Now in her forties, she wondered if they should consider downsizing.
Tom’s parking space was empty. His flight was due in over an hour ago, so she expected him anytime. She’d fix dinner. They’d eat. They’d ask each other about their days. He’d go into the living room to watch basketball, and she’d go to the study to work. After a couple of hours, she’d head to bed, stopping by his recliner to wake him.
This was her life.
She turned off the ignition. As she pushed open the door, Lila smelled a mixture of lemon and bleach. The cleaning lady had been there that morning, and once again, Lila had forgotten to ask her to dust the blinds in the study. She’d have to make a note to have her do it next week.
As she sorted the stack of mail a plain white envelope fell onto the floor.
She picked it up and turned it over. She opened the envelope and pulled out the card inside. On the front was a beach scene, hand painted and signed by someone with the initials SC.
Suzanne.
It had been years. Over twenty years, but Suzanne’s art seemed to have a voice that transcended time. So many of her paintings had been of their favorite places in Sweethaven.
She opened the card, but before she could read it, the garage door sprang to life.
Tom.
He entered through the back door, his tie loosened around his neck. Seeing him in that uniform always caused her heartbeat to quicken—no matter how great the expanse between them.
He frowned as he met her eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing. I was just about to read this.” She held up the card.
“What is it?”
“It’s a card—from Suzanne.”
“Suzanne Carter?”
As kids, Tom and his friends had seized every opportunity to terrorize the girls. They’d dug night crawlers from rich, black soil, waited until the girls weren’t looking, and then placed them in whatever spot would garner the loudest scream. Lila had endured crickets, frogs, a raccoon tail they swore they’d cut themselves—all at the hands of those boys. Ironic she’d ended up falling in love with Tom after that trauma.
She hadn’t thought about it in years.
“Seems strange she’d be writing after all this time. After leaving the way she did.” If she thought about it very long, jealousy would overtake her. Getting pregnant had been a burden for Suzanne, the same way not getting pregnant had burdened Lila.
“Yeah.” Tom grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and took a long drink. “Are you gonna read it?”
She opened it and read the words slowly. “ ‘Dear Lila. It’s been so long—too many years have passed and I should’ve written ages ago. I hope you are well. I hope you are happy. I am sure you are just as beautiful as ever.’ ” She paused for a moment, as if she expected Tom to agree with Suzanne, but he said nothing.
“ #x2018;I’ve had a lot of time lately to think about my life, and I realized that when I thought of happiness, I kept thinking about our summers in Sweethaven. I kept thinking about the homemade ice cream in the Commons and the fireworks on the Fourth of July. I kept thinking about you—about the four of us. About how easy and simple and wonderful things were back then.’ ” She looked at Tom. “She certainly knows how to romanticize things, doesn’t she?”
&nb
sp; He shrugged. “Maybe not. There is something special about Sweethaven.”
“I guess so.” She turned her attention back to the card. “ ‘I do have regrets, though. I’m sure you can imagine. I regret so much of what happened the last summer I was there, but most of all, I regret the fact that I allowed our friendship to dissolve. I have so much more to say, but sadly, I am running out of time.’ ” Lila realized there had been a question in her voice. She scrunched her eyebrows together.
“ ‘It’s cancer.’ ” Lila stopped, surprised at the sorrow that welled from somewhere down deep. “ ‘The doctor isn’t giving me much longer.’ ”
Through clouded eyes, she kept reading.
“ ‘Do you still go to Sweethaven? Do you still spend your summers standing on the beach, digging your toes in the sand? Do you find the time to let the wind mess up your perfectly styled hair? Do you watch the kids on the carousel or maybe even go to those crazy dances they used to have in the Commons? If you don’t, will you come back for the Blossom Festival? It’s still the first weekend in May. It might be my last chance to say good-bye. I pray you come. I pray you find that magic—that magic we all felt there. I pray you can find it in your heart to forgive the sins of the past, and when you think of me, I pray you’ll find a way to smile at all we once shared. I love you, Lila. Suzanne.’ ”
Unable to speak, she whispered Suzanne’s name. It hung in the air between them, tangible, thick, and dense as fog.
“Cancer,” Lila spat. “I can’t believe it. She’s so young.”
“Cancer doesn’t seem to care,” Tom said, shaking his head. “Do you want a glass of wine?”
Lila nodded and he poured.
“I’m sorry you can’t go.” He handed her the Chardonnay.
“Why can’t I?”
“Doesn’t Priscilla need you here?”
Lila frowned. “I think this is a little more important, isn’t it?”
“Is it? You haven’t spoken to Suzanne in over twenty years.” Tom removed the tie from his neck and put it on the counter.
A Sweethaven Summer Page 4
