Secrets over Sweet Tea

by Denise Hildreth Jones

  He was grateful for them, even though her words stung deep and real. “Sweetie, I’ve made some huge mistakes. And one mistake I’ve made is that I haven’t been the father I should have been. I haven’t been present with my girls the way I should, even when I lived at home. And I can tell you right now, that’s going to change. I’m not here to put blame on your mother. I’m here to figure out how to put my family back together. But first I have to put Daddy back together.”

  Lacy reached over and put her hand on top of his. “Daddy, I love you just the way you are.”

  He turned his hand to clasp hers. “I love you too, honey.”

  “I want you to come home,” she said, her eyes filling with tears of her own.

  “I’m going to try my hardest.”

  Joy wiped her nose with her napkin. Lacy got control of herself and picked up her fork again. And Zach finally exhaled. If change went forward in baby steps, he had just taken one tonight. All he could hope was that a lot of baby steps made for one giant one. Because he had a long way to go.

  Grace looked at the teleprompter, but this time the screen was blank. There were no notes for this. No scrolling white letters. Just her and the camera. She was surprised that her only feeling was excitement. Well, a touch of anxiety, nervousness about what lay ahead. But she had expected sadness, tears maybe, and there were none. Just a feeling in the very soul of her that something beautiful was on the horizon.

  “I want to thank you for being faithful companions over these last ten years. I have enjoyed waking up with you and meeting you on the street, at the mall, and in restaurants. You have made getting up at an ungodly hour actually enjoyable,” she said with soft laughter. The guys behind the camera smiled at her words.

  “But I am starting a new adventure,” she went on. “I am leaving the station to fulfill one of my dreams. Not someone else’s dream for me. Not what seems practical. Instead, I’m jumping off a cliff into a great unknown. I seem to have been doing a lot of that lately. But I truly believe you can’t get anywhere in life without some leaps of faith. So if you’re ever in the Franklin area and need some sweet tea, hot or cold, some warm conversation and Southern hospitality, and maybe a scone or a muffin, I hope you’ll come by and visit me at my new tearoom downtown. Watch for my ads; we’re opening this fall. Thank you again, and God bless each one of you.”

  With that a montage of Grace’s years as a reporter and news anchor began to play on the monitor—everything from an interview with the governor and coverage of a devastating Nashville flood to a kiss from a monkey during a visit to the zoo and her falling out of her chair at the anchor desk. Leo had done an amazing job putting it together. And as she watched, tears fell. The staff had thrown a sweet surprise dinner for her the night before and given her a handsome plaque and a gift card to a spa. Leo said she deserved to be pampered.

  “Great job, Grace,” he said as she walked off the studio floor.

  She looped her arm through his as they made their way to her office. “Thanks, Leo.”

  He put his chubby fingers atop hers and patted them gently, his rough palm rubbing her knuckles. “What if I asked you not to go?”

  “I’ll still make you free food anytime you want it. I’ll just have a larger kitchen.” She let go of his arm and entered her office. She pulled a box out of the pile by the wall and set it on her desk. She unsnapped the middle button of her orange-and-white geometric-patterned sweater and draped it across the back of her chair.

  “It’s not about the food. You know that.” He sank down into a chair across from her desk.

  “I know. I’m joking. I don’t want to cry, Leo. I did enough of that last night.” One thing she was learning was to be present wherever she was. And apparently right now, being present with Leo meant talking, even if it hurt. “You’ve become a wonderful friend to me. I’ll miss you.”

  His eyes didn’t leave hers. “Is there anything I can do to make you stay? More money? Bigger window?”

  She laughed and perched herself on the edge of her desk. “You know why I’m leaving.”

  “I do. And I want you to be happy. I’ve seen a light come on in your eyes even when the cameras are off.”

  His words struck her. Even when the cameras are off. “Is that what you saw? That I was able to turn on a spark for the camera?” It wasn’t an accusation. It was a sincere question.

  “Sure I did.” He tried to cross his ankle across his opposite knee, but it slid right off. He tried again, grabbing his ankle and holding on to it. “I’d see you come in here some mornings looking ten years older than you are. It was a tired so deep that sleep couldn’t fix it. But when that red camera light came on, you would come to life. I never knew how you did it.”

  Grace had never really thought of herself as a performer. Not until that moment. Not until those words. Newscasting was her job, a job that demanded professionalism no matter what went on at home. But Leo’s description was true, wasn’t it? She had come in some mornings hurting badly, but she’d never let on.

  Rachel was the only one she’d shared her pain with. To everyone else, her world had seemed perfect because that was what she had wanted them to believe. Or at least that was what she thought she’d convinced them of. But Leo knew. He saw. “I guess I’ve been a phony.”

  He swatted his free hand at her. “Nah. You aren’t a phony. You’re as sweet as that sweet tea you’re always fixing. You just never wanted anyone knowing all your stuff.”

  He was being gracious. It was more than that, and she knew it. It wasn’t that she didn’t want people to know her stuff. She didn’t want people knowing she had any stuff. That’s why she’d always worked so hard to put up a good front—stylish clothes, chic hair and makeup, winning smile, happy marriage. She’d had this desperate need for people to think she had it all together. And thinking of how untogether her life had been for so long made the whole thing feel like a charade.

  Shame in that moment threatened to capture her again. But these days she wasn’t giving in to that relentless pursuer.

  She slapped her hands on her legs. “Leo, I’m messed up.”

  He showed her a wry smile. “We’re all messed up.”

  “But I’m messed up, messed up.”

  His belly shook when he chuckled, and his hand lost its grip on his foot. He let it fall off his knee. “Grace, I’m telling you—so am I.”

  “Yes, but you’ve told me about all your stuff. I know that Helen kicked you out of the house and why. I know about Darius’s issues with pot and him being arrested. I know about the financial challenges you’ve had and what happened at your last family reunion when you found out your niece is really your baby sister.”

  He shook his head. “Oh, that was nasty. I mean, as ugly as you can get.”

  But she wasn’t through. “I know what your favorite foods are. I know what your favorite color is. I know where you buy your pants, Leo. I mean, seriously, I know everything about you.”

  He crinkled his brow. “Guess you do, huh?”

  She put her hands on top of her desk. “What do you know about me?” She felt her turquoise earring rub against her neck as she moved. “What do you know about me?”

  He moved his lips back and forth as if that helped him think. “I know things, Grace.”

  “What’s my mom’s name?”

  “Seriously? Lydia.”

  Yeah—he would know that. “That was a dumb question. She comes to the station every time she’s in town. What’s my favorite color?”

  “Red.”

  “That was a dumb question too. You see me almost every day. Where’s the last place I went on vacation?”

  He raised his finger. “Ha! You don’t go on vacation.”

  “I did three years ago with Tyler for our anniversary. We went to Seaside, down in Florida. But those are too easy. Did you know I desperately wanted children?”

  He hesitated before answering. “No. I figured you were more interested in your career.”

 
; “Did you know I wasn’t fulfilled here at the station?”

  “You gave this job 150 percent. You worked when you shouldn’t have. I thought you were addicted to this place.”

  “Did you know I’ve spent the last six years praying for a miracle in my home? See? I let you in on so little. I only offered what I wanted you to know.” The personal revelations kept coming. “I could have spent the last ten years of my life offering people more than I did.” She felt the impact of that statement, and her hand rose to her mouth. “I could have had ten years of offering my own life, my own failures and life lessons, my honesty to people. And all I’ve given them each morning was a smiling face and white teeth to look at.”

  Leo shook his head. “You’re being too hard on yourself.”

  Maybe. She was good at that.

  “You did give them something. You gave them real emotion. When you were moved by something, they knew it. That was real, Grace. You can’t fake that. Besides, a lot of them needed a smiling face. I mean, have you seen Buster the cameraman’s wife? I mean, oohwee, that brother needs someone smiling at him after waking up to that every morning.”

  “That’s awful.” She leaned over and gave him a playful punch. “But the thing is, I could have done more. Revealed more of myself.”

  “I guess you could have. But I did know a lot, Grace. I knew you were tired. I knew things with Tyler were hard. I knew things had been tough. You may not have said it all, but I knew.”

  “You knew because you’re such a great guy. You’re discerning.”

  He shrugged. “I just see what I see. And what I see is that you can do things differently from now on. Go out there and do what makes you happy and offer people more than you have before.”

  “So now you’re giving me permission to leave?”

  “As long as you promise you’ll still bake for me, I am giving you permission to go.”

  She smiled. “Anytime. Promise me you’ll come in.”

  “Every time Helen lets me. She thinks I’m on a diet.”

  Grace raised an eyebrow. “You still haven’t told her you’ve been giving your lunches to the intern?”

  “Are you insane? She kicked me out once. She’ll do it again. The woman’s a beast.”

  “You’re pitiful.”

  He stood and walked to the door. “You know me so well. Now don’t leave without saying good-bye.”

  She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

  It took her two hours to pack all her boxes. She kept getting sidetracked by memories that overwhelmed her as she was packing, so it was a miracle she finished that quickly. It didn’t help that colleagues kept stopping by, but she was glad to see them. There were a lot of hugs, a lot of tears, but she kept insisting they all knew where to find her.

  Two of her coworkers carried the boxes out to her car, and once they were stowed, she climbed into the driver’s seat. She brought the car to life beneath her and couldn’t help but feel a slight sense of panic as she pulled from the parking lot.

  The panic increased when her phone rang and she saw Tyler’s name and face pop up. She had to get his number off of there. But Accept or Decline were her options now, and she vacillated between them. They hadn’t spoken since the day before she went to court. He had given her space to do what she needed to do, and she was grateful. She had no idea what he wanted now.

  Accept won. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Gracie. It’s T.”

  T. was his friends’ nickname for him. She had never liked it, never called him that. “Hello, Tyler.”

  There was an awkward silence. Then his words rushed out. “I just saw you on television. You looked beautiful.”

  What could she say to that? “Thank you.”

  “Yeah, and I hope this is a wonderful move for you. I just wanted you to know I wish you all the best.”

  She felt a pain in her gut. It would be so much easier if this could be ugly right now. If he were yelling at her. Threatening her. Drunk out of his mind. At least she thought it would be easier. Because to have the man you love be so nice to you and yet know in your heart that he was content with his brokenness was one of the saddest and hardest places to be.

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.” She refused to cry on the phone. “Anything else?”

  “No. No, that’s all. Just happened to be awake and caught it.”

  He meant he had never been asleep.

  “Well, thanks for letting me know. I’ll talk to you later.”

  She clicked End Call before he had a chance to say anything else. Her hands gripped the leather steering wheel tighter, and she rolled her shoulders to loosen them.

  She might be driving off into her future. But in order to do that well, she really needed her past to leave her alone.

  Zach needed coffee. The day had been brutal. Fridays could be like that. He spent hours in a divorce mediation with a client whose wife was trying to clean him out. She wanted the house, the retirement account, the cars, and the children. At one point he had to ask for a ten-minute break, and it hadn’t been for his client’s sake. It was one of those odd moments when the reality of all that could be ahead for him sank in—or, more accurately, crash-landed on the nerve endings in his brain and overwhelmed him.

  Besides, he had nothing to rush home to tonight. Caroline had insisted the girls stay with her that weekend because of school. He had spoken to the girls every night since their last visit. Their attention spans gave him two minutes apiece, max, but he made a point of not missing that phone call.

  Sidewalk traffic had already picked up. The workweek seemed to be getting shorter and shorter these days. Everyone, it seemed, needed the weekend before five o’clock ever arrived. It was only four forty-five. By the time he reached the Starbucks at Five Points, he knew that whatever kind of coffee drink he bought, it was going to be cold. He could feel his undershirt wet against his back and under his arms.

  He looked at the familiar menu. Since he moved out, it had practically become his pantry. He had Starbucks for breakfast almost every morning—coffee plus a breakfast sandwich or sometimes a pastry. He was sure he had gained five pounds. He was eating out for every meal, drinking sugary drinks like they were water, and didn’t have a huge desire to run. It was strange to think about how motivated he had been a couple months earlier. That almost seemed like a lifetime ago.

  He ordered a grande mocha Frappuccino to go and sipped it as he wandered down the street, looking idly into windows. He walked more slowly these days. For some reason, even the hurry had left his step. And yet his senses seemed unusually acute.

  That was something he had noticed recently. When life swallowed you whole, it did something to your perceptions. There were moments when your senses were sharp, alert, when you caught the slightest nuance in a gesture or picked up a sound three streets down. And then there were times when you missed it all. The train wreck in your life could be such a force of energy that it blew away awareness of anything else.

  He was in one of those acute awareness moments when he saw her. Grace Shepherd. Through the window. She was standing in the middle of an empty store.

  He walked up to the window, and she looked up. Her blonde hair was piled in some semblance of a bun gone wild. She wore white shorts and a University of Tennessee T-shirt.

  She gave him a huge smile. He returned it.

  She came toward the front and opened the door, then poked her head out, her brown eyes shining. “Want to meet your new neighbor?”

  He lowered his drink. “What?”

  “Yeah. Come look.” She stepped back and opened the glass door a little farther.

  “I can’t.”

  Her face fell. “Why not?”

  “I don’t associate with people who have such poor judgment in football teams.”

  She looked down as if she had forgotten what she had on. When her head lifted, her smile had returned. Her beautiful smile. “Shut up. Who is your team?”

  “I’m a Georgia fan.”

  “B
ulldogs are ugly.”

  “Excuse me? What is a Volunteer?”

  “A very fine person. Now come look.”

  He scooted past her into the store. It was nothing but a wide-open space. She walked into the middle of it and flung her arms open. “It’s all mine.”

  He nodded and turned a full circle. “Wow. And you wanted all of this?”

  She dropped her arms. “I quit my job.”

  “You what?”

  She laughed. He wasn’t sure he had ever heard her laugh. And he knew he had never seen her like this. Smiling. Younger. Freer. Alive. She covered her mouth. “I know, right? It’s crazy.”

  He usually warned clients against making big changes so soon after a divorce. He must not have had that talk with her. “So what are you going to do?”

  “I’m opening a tearoom. A place where women and little girls can come in and put on hats and drink from fancy china and eat finger sandwiches and pretend they are in a London hotel or a charming English village.”

  “Hm. Have you ever owned a business before?”

  She twitched her nose. “No. But—” she raised a finger—“I have been owned by some painful stuff for the last ten years of my life. And I have decided I’m not going to do that anymore.” She stopped. Her shoulders dropped. “I am crazy, aren’t I?”

  He saw it immediately. The self-doubt, the fear—all of it settled on her in that instance. He didn’t want that. He wanted the Grace of just a few seconds ago back. Here. With him. He touched her shoulder. “No, you’re not crazy. I’m proud of you.” And he was.

  She smiled. “Yeah, me too. This is huge for me, Zach.”

  He nodded. “I know.”

  She paused and cocked her head slightly, kind of like Lacy did sometimes when a lightbulb was going off behind her eyes. “You do, don’t you. You know all my story, every dark and ugly and painful detail.”

  “I know I’m very glad you don’t have to live that way anymore.”

  “Well, sometimes it’s just a different kind of torment these days.” She lowered herself to the dingy carpet and crossed her legs like one of his girls would do. She patted the floor in front of her. “Sit.”