But then, cancer didn’t care what season it was.
She turned on Elm toward Adele’s cottage. Always warm and inviting, Adele Barber had been the glue that held them together on more than one occasion, the mediator in their silly arguments. Adele’s freshly baked chocolate chip cookies seemed to cure all the world’s ills. Suzanne’s and Lila’s mothers were busy with their luncheons and social functions, Jane’s mom had younger children to tend to, but Adele had nothing but time to get into their business. Even after Luke was born. Meg pretended to hate it, but the rest of them wouldn’t have had it any other way.
She pulled into the driveway and admired the potted plants that flanked Adele’s front door. Clothes on a clothesline in the side yard waved in the wind.
She turned off the engine and said a quick prayer. As excited as she was at connecting with her old friends, it was another wretched day that haunted her. She prayed that, for now, she wouldn’t have to face the old demons that lurked in the shadows.
She grabbed her purse and opened the car door. The sooner she could get this over with, the better.
As she stepped out of the car and slung her purse over her shoulder, a silver Mercedes pulled over and parked in front of Adele’s house. Surely Adele didn’t have a silver Mercedes. She tried not to stare, but quick glances didn’t award her any knowledge, and there didn’t seem to be any movement inside the car.
Seconds later, the door popped open and a blond woman with a thin frame appeared.
Lila. She wore oversized sunglasses, a crisp, white button-down, and a pair of black dress pants. As Lila stepped away from the car, Jane saw pointy heels peeking out from the bottom of her pant legs. Jane glanced down at her own tennis shoes and looked away.
Lila walked to the end of the driveway and removed her glasses. “Aren’t you gonna say anything?”
Jane closed the car door and took a step toward her old friend, then took Lila’s hand. Her mouth went dry as cotton and she struggled for words. “I can’t believe it’s you.”
“You’re gonna cry, aren’t you?” Lila hugged her.
Jane pulled away and studied Lila’s face. She looked almost exactly the same, only a bit older. Jane ran her hands through her hair—anything to make herself more presentable. “It’s so good to see you here. How long has it been?”
“Too long. I haven’t been back since Tom and I got married. How about you?”
Jane’s face fell.
“I’m sorry, Janie. Forget I asked.” Lila turned away.
“Do you think Suzanne and Meg are here yet?”
Jane’s heart leapt. What if Meghan had already arrived? She glanced at the bay window at the front of the cottage. What if she sat inside peeking at them through barely parted curtains? “I suppose there’s only one way to find out.”
* * * * *
Campbell
“Whoever could that be?”
Campbell followed Adele’s gaze up the hill, where she saw two women standing on Adele’s front lawn. After a brief walk to the farmer’s market with Adele’s old dog Mugsy, Campbell still didn’t have any answers. These two women could change all that.
“I’m not expecting anyone till tomorrow.” Confusion laced Adele’s tone.
“But you weren’t expecting me either,” Campbell said.
Adele reached an arm around her and squeezed. “But you’re family now, so you’re welcome any time.”
The warmth of her voice, her touch, reminded Campbell of her mother. How nice to feel wanted again.
Would her father want her too? Maybe he didn’t even know she existed. Had Mom even told him? If not, that would explain his absence from her life.
And make her feel a little less rejected.
Adele picked up the pace, practically dragging Mugsy in the direction of their house. The poor mutt whimpered at the strain.
“Come on, you old coot.” Adele yanked the leash. “My girls are home.”
“I’ll take her, Adele, you go on ahead.” Campbell might not be a dog person, but even she felt sorry for the poor animal.
“Thank you, hon.” Adele bustled up the sidewalk, hurrying to meet her company.
The dog’s panting slowed, and she settled into a nice trot at Campbell’s side.
From a distance, Campbell couldn’t make out the facial features of the short, plump woman Adele pulled into a warm embrace. She didn’t actually know any of the girls well enough to determine who it was, but she gathered it wasn’t Meghan because this woman’s hair wasn’t the fiery red of Adele’s daughter. She guessed the other woman, tall, thin, and blond, was Lila Adler. That meant the first woman must be Jane.
Hope sprang in her chest. These women could lead her to her father.
Mugsy whimpered as they reached the driveway.
“Fine, Mugs, you can get off the leash, you big baby.” Adele took the leash from Campbell. She unhooked it and sent Mugsy back to the garage. “Campbell, these are your mom’s friends, Jane Atkins and Lila Olson.”
Campbell studied Jane’s face until she finally found the teenager behind the wide eyes and cropped dishwater hair. In every way, the woman epitomized a soccer mom.
Jane stepped closer, and Campbell saw the tears in her eyes. “Campbell! It’s so nice to meet you after all this time. I had no idea you’d be joining your mom for this trip, but I’m so glad you’re here.”
Campbell’s eyes stung as she swallowed hard, not knowing what to say. She turned to Lila, who pulled her into a stiff hug and patted her back. “It’s so nice to meet you both.”
“We are the lucky ones.” Lila turned to Adele. “Where’s Suzanne and Meghan? Are they both inside looking through old scrapbook pages or something?”
Campbell watched Adele. Her eyes filled with tears.
Lila’s smile faded, her eyes darting between Campbell and Adele. “What’s going on, you two?” She looked at Jane, whose face had gone stark white. She looked away.
Adele glanced at Campbell and then turned to the two women in front of her. “Girls,” Adele said, “she’s gone.”
Jane shook her head. She pulled Campbell into a hug.
“I am so sorry, hon,” she said.
“Just like that?” Lila asked. “We didn’t even get to say good-bye?”
Awkwardness hung in the air. Finally Campbell said, “The funeral was Tuesday.”
“But the letters…” Jane’s took a step back.
“I found them on the counter at my mom’s house. I think she was planning to send them last week—maybe even before that—but she took a turn and ended up in a coma.” Campbell willed her voice to remain steady.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Jane still shook her head, her mouth agape.
“This is so unfair. We came here to say good-bye to her. We deserved that much.” Lila wrapped her arms around her waist and stared at the ground.
Adele stepped forward. “I think Suzanne was hoping for a joyous reunion, and I think that’s what we should give her. You’re right. We didn’t get to properly say good-bye, so we’re going to have to have a memorial service of our own.”
Jane nodded. “I think that’s a great idea.”
Adele and Jane exchanged a look and then Jane wrapped an arm around Campbell, rubbing her back like a mom does. “You look a lot like her.”
“You think so?” Adele cocked her head. “I wasn’t seeing it right away.”
“I think it’s the eyes. They smile and dance just like Suzanne’s. Suzanne always had the best eyes. I was so jealous of her long, dark lashes. I got stuck with these short, blond things.”
Lila straightened. “They make stuff to help with that, Jane. It’s called mascara.”
“It’s good to know you haven’t changed, Lila,” Jane said.
A split second of tension hung in the air, and then Lila’s face broadened into a smile. Jane covered her mouth with her hand and laughed.
Campbell smiled. “I’m really glad you both came.”
“Come in, come in.
Let’s have some tea.” Adele walked toward the house, Jane and Lila on either side and Campbell following close behind. “I’m makin’ my world-famous pork chops tonight. Can you stay?”
Adele laced her arms through theirs, squeezed.
“I think so. I won’t be in town for long, but I can stay for your pork chops.” Jane turned around and looked at Campbell. “They’re world-famous, ya know.”
Campbell laughed. She liked her mom’s friends already.
TEN
Campbell
Inside, Campbell listened as the conversation danced from Adele to Jane to Lila and back again. She waited for a lull and then pulled the old scrapbook pages out of her bag.
“Do you know anything about these?” She looked at her mom’s friends.
Jane’s eyes widened. “Oh my.” She gingerly took the pages. Her eyes filled with tears. “The Circle.” She carefully flipped through the pages.
“Do you have pages like this?”
Jane nodded, her attention still on the scrapbook. “I do.”
“And you do too?” Campbell asked Lila.
“Somewhere. I think they’re in my hope chest.”
Jane glanced up from the pages and met Lila’s eyes. “You don’t know where they are?”
Lila shrugged. “I’m not very sentimental, what can I say?”
Jane held her gaze for a long moment and then returned to the pages in her hands.
“Do they tell more of the story?” Campbell asked. “More about The Circle, my mom…who my dad is?”
The surprised expression on Jane’s face dashed Campbell’s hopes in a nanosecond, but before she could respond, Campbell’s phone buzzed in her purse.
Great timing.
She fished it out and answered.
“Campbell, it’s Tilly.”
Tilly Watkins, Mom’s best friend. She glanced at the three pairs of eyes staring at her, then stood and walked into the next room, holding one finger up as if to say she’d be back in a minute.
“Hi, Tilly. What’s up?”
“I was just calling to check on you mostly. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you after the funeral.”
Campbell felt guilty for leaving without so much as a word to Tilly—a woman who was like the aunt she always wanted and never had. In some ways, Tilly was the only family she had left.
“I’m good,” she said. “I’m actually in Michigan.”
“What are you doing there?”
“I found some of Mom’s old stuff. I guess I just wanted to see where she grew up.”
“She grew up in Chicago, hon.” Tilly sounded confused.
“But she spent her summers here. In a little town called Sweethaven. I’m there now.”
“That’s right. She did mention it a few times.”
“She did?” Jealousy twisted in her gut. Mom had told Tilly about this place but not her?
“Just in passing. Mentioned a charming little beach town where she spent some of her summers. What do you think of it?”
“It’s like she said. Charming.”
“Hon, I know it’s the last thing on your mind, but I wanted to ask you if you’d given any thought to the house and the will?”
Campbell frowned. “What will?”
Why would Mom have a will? She didn’t have anything worth leaving to anyone—and she didn’t really have anyone to leave anything to, except for Campbell.
“Yes. You should probably call her lawyer when you get a chance. They may need you back tomorrow for the reading.”
“Thanks. I’ll call him. I guess if he thinks it’s urgent that I come back, I’ll cut my trip short.”
“I’m sure we can work something out. You take care of yourself, Cam.”
“I will.”
Campbell returned to the kitchen and felt like she’d just walked into a cloud of awkward. The phone call couldn’t have come at a worse time—she’d posed the question about her father and then walked out of the room. Judging by the looks on their faces, they’d been discussing it—and the pit in Campbell’s stomach told her their answer wasn’t a good one.
She returned to her seat.
“Sweetie,” Jane said. Adele handed her a tissue. She dabbed at her eyes and then wadded it in her hands, tore pieces from it, and stacked them in a pile.
“You don’t know, do you?” Campbell stared at her folded hands.
“None of us do. Your mom never told us. It was part of why we all stopped talking, I think.” Jane frowned. “I was so hurt that she didn’t tell me.” Her eyes glassed over. “Sometimes I wonder if I hadn’t been so jealous of her secrets, would I have made a point to stay in touch? Would she have?”
“Jane, stop beating yourself up,” Lila said. “People grow up. They go their separate ways.”
Jane looked at her, and Campbell could see by the expression on her face that their lack of communication had been due to more than the typical “drifting away” that happens as you age.
“Can I look through your pages? Would you mind?” Campbell had to at least look at them. Her curiosity would never leave her alone if she didn’t.
“Sure you can. Mine are buried in my luggage. I brought them with me. How silly is that?” Jane laughed. “When I got your mom’s letter, I had to get them out again. How about if I bring them tonight to dinner?” She smiled. Sniffed. Wiped her eyes again.
Campbell nodded. “Sounds good.”
“I’ll see if I can find mine. Mama probably threw them away. You know she has no tolerance for anything sentimental,” Lila said.
“I appreciate that,” Campbell said. She forced a smile, but sadness had settled in her heart. If none of them knew—why stay? Sweethaven had nothing to offer a girl looking for the father she felt she’d never have.
ELEVEN
Adele
While Adele prepared the pork chops, she kept her ear tuned to the conversation going on between her young guests.
Campbell—on a hunt to find her father. Jane—to make peace with the past. Lila—still carrying the pressure of being an Adler.
Would any of them find what they were looking for?
Sweethaven held the answers for all of them, though she wondered if they’d be too stubborn to see it. Still, she couldn’t ignore the fact that in spite of her excitement over having the girls in her house, a sense of dread had been following her around ever since she found out about Suzanne’s death the day before.
Adele knew Suzanne’s letter could potentially draw Meghan home. She hated to see this reunion tainted with her own insecurities. She reminded herself Meghan most likely wouldn’t make it back anyway. Why was she worried?
But knowing the possibility existed planted a balled-up knot low in her stomach.
“I think I’m going to go lay down for a while.” Campbell pushed her chair away from the table and stood.
Adele turned and saw the sorrow in the girl’s eyes. When Jane and Lila admitted they didn’t know her father’s identity, they’d shattered Campbell’s very reason for being in Sweethaven. Adele saw that plain as day.
“All right, hon. Take as long as you need.” Adele watched her go.
Jane ran her hands over the wet glass of sweet tea in front of her. “Did you know McDonald’s has sweet tea now?”
Lila gasped.
“Don’t get me started on McDonald’s sweet tea. Some things you can’t franchise and good sweet tea is one of ’em.” Adele laughed.
“You tell her, Adele,” Lila said.
“You girls want some scones? I just made ’em fresh this morning.” Adele set a saucer in front of each of them. The smell of the blueberry scones wafted to her nostrils. She hoped her girls would feel as comforted by them as she always was.
“What about you, Adele? You have to eat with us.” Jane’s smile looked forced.
“Don’t you worry about me. I plan on joining you.” Adele laughed.
Lila took a bite and closed her eyes. “These are incredible. You should open a restaurant.”
“I have my antiques to keep me busy.”
“What antiques?” Jane covered her mouth with her hand as she chewed.
“Why, I am a business owner, girls. I have a little antique shop out on the edge of town.”
“Adele, that’s wonderful. You were always so great at finding the real gems in those junk places.” Lila scrunched her nose.
“I beg your pardon? Junk is about as handy as a back pocket on a shirt. My shop is full of honest-to-goodness treasures.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
Silence hung in the air, and Adele felt her smile fade.
“How’ve you girls been?”
Jane smiled, but she didn’t fool Adele. “Good. Real good. We’re all doing really well now.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” She sat across from Jane. “If it’s the truth.”
Jane’s eyes welled with fresh tears. So many tears the woman had cried through the years.
“Sad about Suzanne.” A trail of moisture dashed down her cheek.
Adele set the tissue box in front of Jane.
“It’s unfair that she didn’t get to say good-bye.” Jane pulled a tissue from the box. “Why didn’t she send the letters before she was gone?”
“I think that’s what she was tryin’ to do, hon. Campbell found a trunk with all the Sweethaven stuff in it. Paintings she’d done, the scrapbook, photographs. I think she was planning to tell her daughter everything about this place—maybe even the name of her daddy.”
“You can’t hardly call him a daddy,” Lila said. “He sure didn’t do right by Suzanne.”
“If he even knew.” Jane patted her cheeks dry.
Lila frowned. “You think she never told him?”
“She didn’t tell you girls, right?” Adele said. “Maybe she was too embarrassed to tell him too.”
Jane shook her head. “I wish she’d have trusted me with her secret. That girl deserves to know who her father is.”
A Sweethaven Summer Page 7
