“I’m sorry, sir, but I decline the honor,” Booker had said. “Regan’s GPA has been higher than mine for the past four years. It’s not fair for me to take that honor away because she was in an accident.”
“I’m delighted to hear you say that, young man. While I stand by my belief in healthy competition among students, this is one time I’m willing to bend the rules. Regan’s GPA has been only a fraction of a point ahead of yours throughout your high school careers. You deserve to share the honor of being valedictorian.”
Draped in their hunter-green caps and gowns, Regan and Booker delivered their valedictorian addresses with grace and eloquence. Willa knew Regan’s speech by heart from listening to her practice. And she’d also heard a preview the previous afternoon of Booker’s address when he’d stopped by the house with his mother, requesting an audience to rehearse.
Afterward, Nell had commandeered the kitchen and taught Regan and Booker the secret to making May May’s delectable cheese biscuits. “It’s all in the cheese,” Nell said. “Cracker Barrel’s extra-sharp cheddar is the key.” But she showed Regan and Booker a special way of rolling out the dough that Willa and Lady weren’t privy to.
One bite of biscuit brought back memories for Lady, Nell, and Willa, and they’d spent the next two hours drinking sweet tea and telling Regan and Booker tales of old times.
Regan spoke to the graduation audience about the importance of family while Booker encouraged his classmates to never let anyone or anything deter them from following their dreams. His was a message intended for his father, who sat two rows back and whom Willa met briefly after the service but did not invite to the celebratory lunch she was hosting at her home in honor of the graduates.
A week after the accident, when her headache had finally dulled, Regan had called her father and confronted him about his mistreatment of Nell. To no one’s surprise, he’d denied any knowledge of any impropriety. At his daughter’s request, Daniel had agreed not to come to her graduation. He’d sent a gift instead, a shirt box covered in silver paper that remained unopened on the dining room table. There was a lot Willa still didn’t know about the night of Lady’s sixteenth birthday. Things, she’d decided, it was best for her not to know. Whatever Daniel had done to Nell had shaped all their lives for the last thirty-seven years, and Willa would never forgive him for depriving her of the chance to spend that time with her daughter and grandchild.
Tears sprang to Willa’s eyes—not the first or the last of the day—as she gathered with her family around the table on the piazza. She’d never dreamed this day was possible—not only to have Nell back in her life but to be blessed with such a loving grandson.
Everyone contributed to the celebration. Lady made a hot chicken salad casserole, and Nell brought a honey-baked ham and mixed green salad. Willa ordered a Lady Baltimore cake from Sugar Bakeshop and helped Lady set the table with linens, china, and the season’s first blue hydrangeas from their garden.
The conversation over lunch was lively. With the exception of Willa, who was grateful to be alive and momentarily cancer-free, they were all embarking on a new path in life. At the eleventh hour, Regan had changed her mind about UNC and decided to join Booker at USC in the fall, where they would attend the Honors College together.
When she announced her decision, Booker had jokingly said, “A new race is on for valedictorian. And this time, Regan, I’m not cutting you any slack. May the best man, or woman, win.”
With the guidance of her two new mentors, Lady was charging full steam ahead with her life. Kate Jensen had agreed to be her sponsor for Alcoholics Anonymous, and they met a couple of times a week for meetings. And Penny Yates was guiding Lady toward a career as a geriatric aide. She’d formally offered Lady a job with Lowcountry Home Health Care, but Lady declined. She wanted to pick and choose her clients. She preferred driving them to doctor’s appointments and social functions over taking care of their physical needs. So far, she’d had business cards printed and converted the old upstairs apartment, where Nell and Mavis had once lived, into an office. Penny had sent her several referrals, and she was networking with friends and acquaintances to get the word out about her services.
Of those gathered at the table, Nell beamed the brightest. She’d put her house in Mount Pleasant on the market and made a down payment on the Rutledge Avenue dollhouse. She was all set to move in mid-June. She’d confided in Willa that she’d never been happier in her life. “I finally feel free to just be me.”
Lady was slicing the cake when Booker waved his phone in the air and let out a whoop. “Guess what! I got off the wait list at Harvard!”
Regan’s face fell. “Congratulations, Booker. That’s what you’ve always wanted.”
Booker sent an elbow to her side. “I got off the wait list, silly. That doesn’t mean I’m going.”
“If this is about money, sweetheart, we can figure something out,” Nell said, her face pinched in concern.
“And I’d like to help,” Willa said, smiling at him from across the table. “You’re my grandson, Booker. I would be privileged to pay your tuition.”
Booker’s jaw dropped. “Wow, Willa, that’s awfully generous of you. But I can’t accept. And it’s not because of the money. Harvard is not the right choice for me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled I got accepted. I mean, seriously, think of the bragging rights. But I’d rather be at the top of my game at Carolina than struggling to stay afloat at Harvard. That’s not to say the curriculum at the Honors College won’t be rigorous. But I don’t think the admissions office would’ve awarded me scholarship money if they didn’t have faith in me.” His eyes traveled the table. “Besides, I don’t want to be that far away from my family.”
“You’ve made a fine choice, Booker. But I’m going to pay your tuition anyway.” Willa shifted her gaze to her granddaughter. “And yours too, Regan. Your mother reminded me recently that my parents, who bestowed this wealth upon me, would’ve wanted me to enjoy it while I’m still alive. And paying your tuitions will make me very happy indeed. As will helping the two of you.”
She locked eyes with Lady first and then Nell. “Lady, I want you to fix this house up any way you’d like. It’ll be yours one day. We might as well make the improvements now so we can enjoy them while I’m still alive. And, Nell, I want you to own your dollhouse free and clear. I’m going to reimburse you the money you spent on the down payment and pay the balance on your mortgage.”
Exchanging glances, Lady and Nell started to object, but Willa cut them off. “Hush! It’s all been taken care of. I already met with my accountant, and he’s working out the arrangements. Who knows how much longer I have to live, but I’m blessed to be able to spend my dying days with the four of you.”
After dessert, when Regan and Booker headed off to a round of graduation parties that promised to last through the evening, the three women retired with coffee to the upstairs piazza.
Willa lay back on the chaise longue and listened to Nell and Lady talk.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you, Lady, how’s Mindy? Does she still live in town?”
“She got married right out of college, divorced two years later, and now lives in Seattle,” Lady said. “I understand from mutual friends that she’s remarried with children.”
“What about Hank?”
“He still lives in Charleston. On Tradd Street, I believe. He’s married to a really nice girl. They have a son two grades below Regan and Booker.”
“I had a crush on him, you know,” Nell admitted.
Lady laughed out loud. “Didn’t we all?”
Nell and Lady talked on about their divorces and how quickly the years had flown, Nell’s nursing career and Lady’s new career endeavor, the kids and how strange it would be when they left for college.
“But you’ll be living so close,” Willa said to Nell. “We’ll get together at least once a week for dinner.”
“I’d like that very much.” Nell set her coffee cup down on the table beside
her. “I know we’re trying to move past everything that’s happened between us. But I feel like I need to say it one more time. I am so sorry for the way I behaved. I was trying to find my way, but now I realize I was never really lost. My place has always been right here with you.” She took both of their hands in hers.
Lady swatted at a tear. “And I’m sorry too, Nell. You were right. I truly was a brat back then.”
Nell cocked an eyebrow. “Back then?”
“I admit it!” Lady threw her free hand in the air. “I’ve always been a brat, and I’ll always be a brat.”
They all shared a laugh.
Nell squeezed Willa’s hand. “Thank you, Miss Willa, for never giving up on me.”
“We’re together now,” Willa said. “That’s all that really matters. I can live out the rest of my days a happy woman.”
“Forever . . . ,” Nell said, and Lady joined her in reciting their pact. “Together, forever. Let nothing or no one ever come between us.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’m grateful to the many people who helped make this novel possible. First and foremost, to my editor, Patricia Peters, for making my work stronger without changing my voice, and my agent, Andrea Hurst, for her guidance and expertise in the publishing industry and for believing in me. To Danielle Marshall and her team at Lake Union Publishing as well as Mariette Franken at Kindle Press. A big thank-you to my beta readers—Alison Fauls, Mamie Farley, and Kathy Sinclair—for taking interest in my work and providing invaluable feedback. I’m always appreciative to Tim Galvin, Richmond architect, for answering my many questions about architecture, and Leslie Rising, of Levys of Richmond, for offering fashion advice for my characters. To Betsy and Moultrie Dotterer and Catherine Kresken for location information about the Charleston area. A heartfelt thank-you to the staff at MUSC for taking amazing care of my mother during her recent extended stays. The nurses who work grueling hours and tend their patients with compassion provided inspiration for Nell.
I am blessed to have many supportive people in my life who offer the encouragement I need to continue the pursuit of my writing career. I owe a huge debt of gratitude to my advanced review team for their enthusiasm for and commitment to my work. Love and thanks to my family—my mother, Joanne; husband, Ted; and the best children in the world, Cameron and Ned.
Most of all, I’m grateful to my wonderful readers for their love of women’s fiction. I love hearing from you. Feel free to shoot me an email at [email protected] or stop by my website at www.ashleyfarley.com for more information about my characters and upcoming releases. Don’t forget to sign up for my newsletter. Your subscription will grant you access to exclusive content, sneak previews, and special giveaways.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2018 Maguire Neblett Photography
Ashley Farley is the bestselling author of the Sweeney Sisters series as well as the stand-alone novels Sweet Tea Tuesdays, Magnolia Nights, Beyond the Garden, and other books about women for women. Her characters are mothers, daughters, sisters, and wives facing real-life situations, and her goal is to keep readers turning pages with stories that resonate long after the last word.
In addition to writing, she is an amateur photographer, an exercise junkie, and a wife and mother. While she has lived in Richmond, Virginia, for more than two decades, part of her heart remains in the salty marshes of the South Carolina Lowcountry where she grew up. Through the eyes of her characters, she captures the moss-draped trees, delectable cuisine, and kindhearted folks with lazy drawls that make the area so unique. For more information on the author and her work, visit www.ashleyfarley.com.
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