A Sweethaven Summer

by Courtney Walsh

  “Thanks, Adele.” She knew his appreciation wasn’t relegated to a slice of cake and a cup of coffee, but she simply smiled.

  Silence fell between them, and Adele suddenly didn’t feel right about telling him to go to Campbell and make things right. She’d planned to tell him to stop beating himself up for a twenty-five-year-old mistake, but he almost seemed too fragile to hear it.

  “What’s she like?”

  His question caught her off guard. Her face must’ve shown it.

  “She’s a pretty thing. Doesn’t look exactly like Suzanne, but still stunning, don’t you think?”

  A glimmer of something flashed in his eye—hope? nostalgia? pride?

  “I do. My son does too, I think.” Adele took another bite. “I imagine she could have her pick of young men.”

  He didn’t respond.

  “She might need a little guidance, though. From a wise old man like yourself.”

  “You’re not fooling anyone, Adele.”

  “What?” Adele knew she didn’t feign innocence very well, but she tried.

  “You think this will be an easy fix, like the end of a Hallmark movie, but people aren’t as forgiving in real life as the movies paint them out to be. She will be hurt when she finds out what we did. There’s no ‘happily ever after’ here.” He pushed his plate away.

  “She’s a lot like Suzanne.” Sadness filled the room at the mention of her name. Adele reached in her purse and pulled out a small slip of paper. She slid it across the table. “You can do what you want with this, but I thought you should have it.”

  “What is it?”

  “Her contact information.”

  He stared at the paper, unmoving.

  “She’s a good kid, huh?”

  “A great kid.” Adele spent the next several minutes telling him her impressions of Suzanne’s daughter. His eyes lit as he listened. “She strikes me as the kind of person with a great capacity for forgiveness.”

  His face fell. “Some things don’t deserve to be forgiven. I know you understand that, Adele.”

  She looked away.

  “It’s your choice, Michael. You can wallow in your own self-pity like you’ve been doin’ for the past Lord knows how long, or you can hand it over to that God who you claim to know so well. He doesn’t want you to carry this burden anymore. His yoke is easy and all that jazz.” She stared at him. “At least that’s what my pastor used to say.”

  Michael smiled. “Leave it to you to throw my own sermons back in my face.”

  “Call her.” Adele stood and covered the cake. “That’s yours.” She nodded at the cake. “Make me proud and eat it all.”

  She turned to leave.

  “Adele?” The Reverend’s voice stopped her. “What if she doesn’t want to know me?”

  She shook her head. “She does. Even if she doesn’t know it yet. Just reach out to her. Take a chance.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  Campbell

  For hours, Campbell walked up and down the beach, sat on the park bench and watched seagulls, studied the lighthouse from every angle. The sunset came and went, and still she sat, questions tumbling around in her head like clothes in a dryer.

  She dialed Information.

  “City and state?”

  She searched her brain. She had no idea if the man lived in Sweethaven or Harbortown or Timbuktu. “Um. Sweethaven, Michigan?” It was worth a shot. “Could I have the number for Tony Angelotti?”

  “I’m not showing a listing for an Angelotti in Sweethaven.”

  “Could you try Harbortown?”

  “Nothing, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

  “All right, thank you.” Campbell hung up, frustrated.

  Was she willing to risk more hurt—more pain—if it would lead her to her father?

  She got back into her car and drove aimlessly. When she’d woven her way back to Main Street, she glanced at the clock. The time had flown. It was already 10 p.m. She hadn’t even told Adele where she was going; could she even think about going back there? She certainly wouldn’t win any etiquette awards with her poor manners lately. The old-fashioned street lights cast golden hues across Elm Street, and Campbell decided if Adele’s house had a light on, she’d knock. If not… . She hadn’t quite thought that far ahead yet.

  Campbell parked across the street from Adele’s cottage, which was dark except for the flickering blue light of a television in the front room. She supposed that counted as a light on. Maybe Adele liked to stay up late watching old movies. Like Mom.

  Quietly, she got out of the car. Only one way to find out.

  She crept up the stairs and listened at the door. Before she could knock, the porch light came on, and she jumped like a burglar caught with a fistful of jewels. The lock clicked. Too late to run away now.

  The door opened, and Luke stood on the other side.

  Did he live here? He hadn’t stayed there the night before.

  Strange how his lazy smile comforted her.

  “Hey.” He pushed open the screen door.

  “I’m sorry to show up here so late.”

  “Don’t be silly, come in.” He held the door open with his backside and she passed by him, then stopped in the quiet entryway of Adele’s house. “We were wondering when you’d be back.”

  Campbell glanced at him and wondered if he’d been waiting up for her, hopeful she’d return. She quickly pushed the thought aside. It had been inconsiderate of her not to call Adele. She’d been so confused by what she’d discovered, but that was no excuse to be rude.

  “What are you doing here?” She wondered if he shouldn’t be the one asking her that question. She wrapped her arms around herself.

  “I came over for dinner and I guess I’m the last to leave. The TV’s out at my place.” He shrugged. “Mom’s old. She goes to bed early.”

  She smiled. “I’m gonna tell her you said so.”

  A soft silence fell between then. She noticed it lacked the awkwardness of forced conversation.

  “Come in, sit down.” He must’ve sensed her insecurity.

  She’d reached a crossroads and now she had a choice. She could keep probing—keep searching for answers. Or she could leave and continue to live in ignorant bliss. There was something to be said for make believe.

  He walked into the living room, clearly expecting her to follow. “Come on, you’d really be helping me out with the old lady.”

  “I am tired. Maybe I could just sit down for a while.” She followed him into the living room.

  “Do you want something to drink?” Luke had turned off the TV and now folded an old afghan that had been strewn across the couch.

  “No, I’m fine. Thanks.” All day without eating, and she still had no appetite. Campbell sat in the oversized chair and watched him stick the blanket in a basket behind the couch. “Were you sleeping? Did I wake you?”

  “I might’ve dozed off a little.” Luke sat down in the recliner.

  “Do you sleep here a lot?” He’d mentioned his own place, but now she wondered if he was too embarrassed to tell her he lived with his mother.

  “No, I don’t live here.” He laughed, as if he’d read her mind. “Mom asked me to come to an estate sale with her tomorrow morning. You know she has an antique store on the edge of town?”

  “She mentioned it, yeah.”

  “She buys these crazy heavy pieces and then doesn’t have any way to get them home. That’s where I come in.” He grinned.

  “So you’re the muscle of the operation.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, I kinda like that.”

  She smiled.

  “It’s just easier to sleep here. Besides, I might get a home-cooked breakfast out of the deal.”

  She grew quiet as exhaustion set in. With all the driving and the funeral and the secrets and the questions, she’d managed to completely wear herself out.

  “You have something on your mind.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “I have a lot on my mi
nd.” She sighed.

  “Anything I can help with?”

  Campbell told him what she’d found out that morning.

  The ticking of the clock above the mantel filled the otherwise silent space.

  “So you’ve got a benefactor?” Luke asked after a few too-long moments.

  “You don’t think my grandfather…?” She couldn’t even say the words. She felt ridiculous suggesting that a man who didn’t even want her in his family would actually find a way to take care of her.

  He leaned back on the couch. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  She met his eyes. “No. I can’t ask him.”

  “Why not? You have nothing to lose.”

  “I can’t. I can’t face that man.” In a flash, she returned to the night before, standing face-to-face with her grandfather—a perfect stranger.

  But she had no proof her grandfather had paid for the house or put money in the account.

  “I think you should pay the old man a visit,” Luke said. “I’ve known him for years, Campbell, and I think you’d regret it if you didn’t get to know him.”

  Anger rose from a place down deep. “I’m not the one who tried to get rid of him, remember?” She hated that a man she’d never met could inflict a wound that still hurt after all these years. “Look, knowing that man is up the street changes nothing for me. I’m still as alone as I was yesterday and the day before.”

  “But he is up the street. What if he wants to get to know you?” Luke’s quiet tone told her he didn’t mean to hurt her. He couldn’t possibly understand.

  She hesitated and then said, “I can’t, Luke. I guess I was hoping I could ask your mom. Maybe she knows something—maybe my grandfather mentioned it to her. She said they were friends.”

  Luke nodded.

  “I just want to know whose money it is before I decide whether or not I’m going to keep it.”

  He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You are crazy. It’s your money.”

  “Not yet it’s not.”

  “Your mom obviously put it aside for a reason. She wanted you to have it. She didn’t want you to struggle. It’s a gift—just take it. Doesn’t mean you owe him anything.”

  She looked away. Didn’t it? If she took his money, wasn’t she saying she forgave him?

  She hadn’t. Not now. Maybe not ever.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Adele

  Adele awoke before the birds. She flipped on the lamp by her bed, said a prayer, and then hurried to get ready. She’d been looking forward to the Marvin Estate Sale ever since she heard old Dirk Marvin—Lord rest his soul—had taken his last breath.

  Luke’s empty room told her he’d either gotten himself up already or he hadn’t slept there after all. Surely he knew how important this sale was to her. She wouldn’t be able to move that old credenza by herself.

  She resisted the urge to push open the door of the guest room and check on Campbell. She didn’t fault her young guest for keeping her whereabouts yesterday to herself—she had a lot on her mind, after all. Still, Adele had found herself nodding off in the chair waiting for her to return before she finally gave in and went to bed.

  Downstairs, she spotted someone on the couch underneath the old afghan she’d made after she had Luke. Had Luke slept down here? Probably fell asleep watching SportsCenter again. But as she entered the room she realized the blond head underneath the covers wasn’t her son.

  Campbell? What on earth was she doing on the couch?

  The smell of coffee pulled her attention to the kitchen where two long legs stuck out behind the doorway.

  She cleared her throat.

  Luke glanced up. “Mornin’, Ma.”

  “You’re up early.” She couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up before her. She sat across from him.

  “You said you wanted to leave by seven. Figured I needed a good jolt of caffeine if I’m gonna keep up with you all day.” He grinned at her. She still saw the kindergartner in that grin. Warmed her heart.

  Campbell appeared in the doorway, looking disheveled and tired. Luke looked at her and then at Adele.

  “Hon, come sit down. Want some coffee?”

  Campbell sat in the chair between Adele and Luke.

  “It’s not a latte, but it’s caffeine,” Luke said as he poured her a cup. Adele’s eyebrows shot up. By golly, her son seemed more smitten with this pretty little blonde than he had the day before.

  “Honey, I’m so glad you’re here.” She covered Campbell’s bony hands with her own and flashed her a smile. The girl’s face brightened, but only for a moment.

  “Let me get you some coffee cake.” Adele cut two good-sized pieces and put them on her favorite plates, vintage gold-rimmed floral saucers.

  “This is Me-maw’s recipe,” she told Campbell. “You would’ve loved my Me-maw. She was somethin’ else.”

  Luke rolled his eyes. “Here we go.” Luke frowned and ran his hands over his belly, which, if she was honest, hardly existed. He’d eaten her out of house and home for years and still maintained all those muscles. The injustice of it didn’t escape her as she glanced down at her thighs spilling over the sides of the chair.

  Apparently they wore cinnamon streusel differently.

  Campbell took a bite. “I went to Harbortown yesterday. I ended up at the community college.”

  “Oh?” Adele didn’t know whether she was surprised or impressed by Campbell’s gumption. Maybe a little of both.

  “I have a name.”

  Adele set her fork down. “A name?” She studied Suzanne’s daughter. Had she found her father?

  “Tony Angelotti.”

  Adele stared at her for a long moment and then burst out laughing. “Tony Angelotti.”

  Campbell’s eyes darted to Luke, then back to her, and Adele tried to regain her composure. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I know Tony. Well, I did.”

  “You do?”

  “He’s not your daddy, darlin’.”

  “But, how do you know?”

  The heartbreak on Campbell’s face halted Adele’s amusement. “He’s older than me, for one thing. Tony fancied himself an artist, but the truth was, the man had no talent.”

  “That’s what the professor said.”

  Adele covered Campbell’s hands with her own. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. But be thankful. Eliminatin’ names from your list is just as important as addin’ ’em.”

  Campbell’s shoulders slumped as she took another bite of streusel. “Any word from Meghan? Did she respond to my mom’s note?”

  Adele knew Campbell would eventually start asking about Meghan. Why had Jane and Lila come back but not Meghan? Why were they congregating at her house if Meghan wasn’t even there? Why had she allowed so many years to pass without speaking to her own daughter?

  “I don’t know if we’ll hear from Meghan anytime soon. I don’t know if she can get away. She’s so busy.” Luke’s raised eyebrows tormented her from across the table. She cleared her throat.

  Campbell frowned. “That’s too bad. It would be good to have the entire scrapbook put together. It seems strange she wouldn’t at least call.”

  How did Adele explain her greatest heartache without reliving the sins of the past? “It’s complicated.”

  “Seems like everything is complicated, doesn’t it?” Campbell’s sad eyes gazed down at the table. “Would you be able to call her maybe? See if she’s coming? I’d hate to miss her if she does show up.”

  Adele glanced at Luke. “Have you talked to your sister lately?”

  “Been about a month.”

  “What aren’t you telling me?” Campbell asked.

  Adele grabbed the coffee pot off the counter. “I need a fresh cup.” She poured more coffee into a nearly full mug.

  “Adele. What’s going on?”

  “It’s hard to explain, hon.”

  “Try.” Campbell stared at her.

  “Well, I haven’t talked to Meghan in a long time. We had a sort o
f fallin’ out, I guess you’d say.”

  “How long?”

  “Six years.”

  Campbell’s eyes widened.

  Adele sighed. “Suffice it to say—I am not her favorite person. And all of my attempts to make things right with her have gotten me nowhere. She’s stubborn, like her daddy.”

  Luke scoffed.

  Adele shot him a look. “Fine. Stubborn like me.”

  “But she still doesn’t know Mom’s gone,” Campbell said. “Don’t you think we should tell her?”

  Adele did think they should tell her. She’d been thinking about it since she first found out about Suzanne, but hadn’t worked up the courage. “I suppose we should think about that.”

  “There’s still a chance she’ll show up, right? I mean, Blossom Fest lasts all week. Maybe she’ll come?” Campbell’s eyes were full of hope. Naïve, Adele thought.

  “We’ll see.” Suddenly, Adele didn’t feel hungry. She didn’t know what she feared more, the idea of being face-to-face with her daughter or the realization that if this didn’t bring her home, it wasn’t likely that anything would.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Campbell

  Adele glanced at the clock. “We should get going, Luke. Would you like to come along, Campbell? It’s an estate sale, so it won’t be thrilling, but they can be fun.”

  “I don’t know if that’s my kind of thing, but thank you.”

  “Come on,” Luke said. “You can keep me company. I know it’s not my kind of thing, but I don’t have a choice.” Luke smiled an almost sympathetic smile. Did he feel sorry for her? Did he feel the pain oozing from every fiber of her being?

  “That’s okay, thanks.” She had to admit, she wanted to spend the day with him. She didn’t want a repeat of yesterday, wandering the beach alone, directionless.

  “I’ll throw in a free latte. With whipped cream.”

  She met his eyes. “Well, if you put it that way…”

  Adele clapped. “Oh, good. Thank you, son, for speaking her language. Now, run get dressed, darlin’. You look like you just woke up.”