The Lights of Sugarberry Cove

by Heather Webber

  I watched him closely as he talked, and I stifled all the questions that sprang to mind. Not about the wallpaper, but about him. Last I knew, he’d been a biology major who was planning to follow his daddy’s footsteps into pharmacology. How had he ended up with a construction company? What had he been doing these last eight years? Did he still live here in Sugarberry Cove? Why, oh why, had he broken my heart?

  I reached for the laundry. “Thanks for the tips. I should get back to work.”

  He didn’t let go of the basket. I gave another tug.

  He still didn’t release it. He simply looked at me, his gaze intent on mine. There was a plea in the depths of brown. “Sadie, I … um.”

  The vacuum fell silent. We both glanced at the stairs as Leala started down them. She took one look at us, then turned around and went back up the steps. I had little doubt that she was eavesdropping.

  I tipped my head, waiting for him to say what he had to say, not entirely sure I wanted to hear it after I’d waited so very long to hear anything from him at all. The last time we were together was two weeks after my accident. I’d dropped out of school, had endured the looks of pity in the community, felt their disappointment in me, and knew I had to leave town, get away, find myself, find the reason I was still alive. When I told him, he’d been quiet, barely looking at me the whole time, but supportive. He’d promised to text and call often, which had been a balm to my hurting soul, because I knew out of everything, I’d miss him most of all. But his calls never came. And mine went unanswered. My texts, too. He completely ghosted me, leaving me grieving not only for the loss of my best friend, my first love, but for my old life altogether. I hadn’t seen him or heard from him in eight years. Until today.

  Giving his head a quick shake, he abruptly let go of the basket and picked up the piece of trim that he’d leaned against the bannister at some point. “I should get back to work, too. It’s good to see you, Sadie Way.” He tapped the board against his palm, then added, “You’ve been missed.”

  With that he turned and started for the front door.

  You’ve been missed? What did he mean by that? Missed by him?

  Halfway out the door, he stopped suddenly, and I stiffened, bracing myself.

  He turned around. “Do you want to get a drink tonight? Catch up a little?”

  I gripped the laundry basket tighter, feeling the wicker digging into my fingers. There was a little flutter in my chest as I sorted all the reasons to say no, trying to decide which to use. There were easily a dozen. But then I saw that plea in his eyes again, floating on nothing but hope, and I wanted more than anything to say yes.

  But the high emotional cost that would come with spending time with him and taking a trip down memory lane was too high a price to pay. I needed to keep my distance for my own peace of mind.

  “Thanks for the offer, but between helping Mama and the wallpaper … I don’t have any free time. I’m only here till Monday.”

  Disappointment fell across his face as he pressed his lips together. He gave a brisk nod and disappeared through the doorway.

  Blinking away a sudden, unwanted wash of tears, I stood frozen, watching him once again walk out of my life, wondering how it was possible that it could still hurt when I’d spent only ten minutes with him, tops. Wondering why, for the millionth time, the lady of the lake had taken away my ability to feel physical pain but not emotional pain. Right now I’d give just about anything to trade.

  “You can come down now,” I said.

  Leala barreled down the steps. “You’ve been missed? What was that supposed to mean? Was that his roundabout way of saying that he missed you?” She tsked loudly. “I never took Will Lockhart for a coward.”

  Sometimes I loved my sister more than I could ever put into words. I took a deep breath and one last look at the door before heading for the laundry room. “I’m not sure. But it doesn’t really matter one way or another, does it? Nothing would’ve come of spending time with him but heartache. Plus, I’m leaving soon, so it’s best not to stir up old troubles.”

  Come Monday morning, I would be on the road again, headed south, away from old memories, old pain, and everything and everyone I loved.

  Including Will.

  Chapter

  9

  Leala

  “You missed a spot, LC,” Mother said from behind me as I squeegeed a window on the back porch. Sadie and I had established a steady rhythm as we tackled all the windows on the first floor. With a rag, she wiped the window with a mixture of warm water, dish soap, and vinegar, and I followed behind her with the squeegee for a streak-free shine. It was amazingly effective, and between the two of us, the work had gone quickly.

  Mother had woken from her nap on the wrong side of the bed, and as I was her favorite target, she’d been nitpicking my window-washing technique since she’d come downstairs and insisted on helping us. It was getting harder and harder not to snap back at her. Doing so would only lead to something that decidedly would not be calm. So for her heart’s sake, I bit my tongue. Fortunately, Sadie and I were almost done, just one window left, because my tolerance was running on empty.

  I swiped the offending streak, Mother humphed in satisfaction, and Sadie shot me a sympathetic look as she dunked her rag into the bucket, then wrung it out.

  “When was the last time you washed windows, LC?” Mother asked as she ran a cloth over the windowsills.

  With the window open, the cries of nearby blue jays floated in along with a wave of heat and humidity. The lake looked invitingly blue, and if I had any extra time, I’d have happily escaped in a kayak. But free time wasn’t to be had. After we finished the windows, Sadie and I were going to start on the entryway makeover. Well, Sadie was—she’d tasked me with running into town to pick out paint swatches and supplies, and I couldn’t wait to have a few minutes to myself, even if it was to run an errand. And while I was out, I planned to stop at home, since I’d yet to hear from Connor. At the thought of seeing Tucker, I worked faster.

  “Doesn’t your fancy cleaning lady do that for you now? I’m surprised you remember how,” Mother added when I didn’t answer straight off.

  I gritted my teeth and told myself to let the comment go. Just let it—“It’s probably been as long as it’s been for you by the looks of these windows.”

  Sadie sighed, and I faced Mother, silently daring her to keep picking, when the doorbell rang, placing the care of her heart in her own hands, because I was done accepting her not-so-thinly-veiled insults.

  “I’ll get it!” Sadie said quickly, sounding a little too eager to get away from us.

  “No.” Mother set her rag on the sill. “I’ll go.”

  As soon as she was out of earshot, Sadie whispered, “Holy hell. What is it between you two? It’s so much worse than I remembered.”

  That was because it was worse. Sadie had always been our buffer, our peacemaker. Plus, it seemed the more I distanced myself from Mother, the testier she became. Being here, all of us together this weekend, had been bound to bring all our old hurts to the surface.

  I glanced toward the front door—it looked like it was yet another flower delivery. “You know she’s never forgiven me for wanting a life completely different from hers. She passive aggressively needles my lifestyle every chance she gets. I can’t tell you the amount of times she comments, out of the blue, about people getting above their raising. It’s obvious that she’s talking about me.”

  What Mother hadn’t realized was that I was trying to forget my raising. I tried every single day, yet the memories lingered. Of Mother being too busy to attend a school concert or celebration. Or too busy to tend to a scraped knee. Or too busy to tuck us in at night. The list was endless. I’d grown up promising myself that I’d never be someone who gave more attention to the strangers staying at her bed-and-breakfast than to her own children. The more Mother had left Sadie and me to our own devices growing up, the more I had dreamed of a different life for myself. One that put family first, abo
ve all else.

  On the day he was born, I’d promised Tucker I’d never let him down, and that I’d always be there for him, and that I’d be the best mama in the whole wide world. And I’d done my best to keep that promise … even when the regrets about quitting my job had started creeping in.

  Often lonely and overwhelmed, I was struggling with staying home with him full-time, even though it was something I always thought I wanted. It hurt, that inner betrayal of my lifelong dreams.

  “Have you ever thought about sitting down with her to talk about everything?” Sadie asked as she finished wiping the last window. “I mean really talk? A good heart-to-heart?”

  My head was starting to ache as I put down the squeegee and started closing the windows we had opened. “Honestly, I’m worried it’d do more harm than good.”

  “I can mediate if you want.”

  I glanced at her and smiled. “It’s best to let her heart heal first, don’t you think? She’s bound to get all wound up. Maybe at Christmastime…”

  With a big smile on her face, Mother returned carrying a large vase of lilies. “Well, look at this arrangement. Isn’t it lovely?”

  “They are,” Sadie said. “Who sent them to you?”

  Mother set the vase on the table, poured herself a glass of cucumber water from the pitcher on a side table, and then sat down, her gaze holding steady on me. “Oh, they’re not mine. They’re for LC. Sorry, I read the note before realizing.”

  Of course she had. I plucked the card from the vase and read the message with Sadie peering over my shoulder.

  33°44.034'N, 86° 32.424'W

  Now and forever. I’m sorry.

  —C

  Warmth flowed through me, a sense of love and happiness all wrapped up in one. Carefully, I tucked the card back into the torn envelope and slid it into my pocket.

  Mother was about to say something I was sure I didn’t want to hear, but Sadie cut her off. “What are the coordinates, Leala?”

  “It’s where Connor proposed to me,” I said, not wanting to share the whole story. It was too special to subject to any mocking, especially from Mother.

  The coordinates marked the historical marker for the Cahaba Heart River up in Jefferson County. In a flash, I was back in time, a junior in college seeing Connor sitting in the school library, so intent on his books and notes that he didn’t notice for fifteen minutes that I had taken a seat at the same table. Eventually, we got to talking and I found out he was writing a paper on Alabama’s historical markers. That night he asked me out for coffee. And that weekend, I went for a drive with him to document one of the markers for his paper. We did the same thing the weekend after that and soon became inseparable. Toward the end of the school year, when his paper was coming due, he had only one more marker he wanted to document. The Cahaba Heart River marker, and the lilies were just about to bloom, too, so we planned to make a whole day of it with a picnic.

  Cahaba lilies were something special. A stunningly beautiful white lily, they bloomed in the water every May in only a few of Alabama’s rivers, because the flowers needed just the right environment to bloom, amid rocks and swift currents and full sunshine.

  Connor had been incredibly nervous when we pulled onto the side of the road, and he started rambling about the river being the heart of Alabama but how his heart was with me, now and forever. He got down on one knee and pulled out the ring.

  Thinking of it now made me feel warm and sappy, and though the lilies he’d sent weren’t Cahaba lilies, all lilies had become our flower, the one that represented how we’d bloomed and found love despite our adversities.

  Sadie tipped her head to the side and asked, “How come I don’t know the story of how he proposed?”

  I shrugged. “You never asked. No one asked. No one cared.”

  Sadie’s eyes instantly filled with tears. “I’m so sorry, Leala. I like Connor—I do. Back then, I was just so mad that he was taking you away from me. You were always with him, and I never saw you anymore, and I just—I was jealous. I’m sorry.”

  Seeing her teary made me teary. I needed time to think about what she had said about being jealous, because it didn’t make sense to me. It was the second time she’d mentioned it, though, and suddenly I had an uneasy feeling that maybe she was right.

  “What’s Connor in the doghouse for?” Mother asked, nodding to the flowers. “Why’s he sorry?”

  I certainly didn’t want to hear her gloating, so there was no way, no how I was telling her the reason. “It’s nothing we can’t work out.” I hoped.

  Mother tipped her head and studied me so intently that I thought she could somehow see the truth anyway, as if it floated around me like a guilty haze. Her gaze softened. “I’m sure you will.”

  I searched for sarcasm and found none. I didn’t know what to do with this unexpected kindness, or how to feel.

  “Leala, why don’t you head into town now to get the supplies at the hardware store?” Sadie said brightly, apparently wanting to end this conversation on a high note. “I’ll finish cleaning up here.”

  “Town?” Mother set down the glass of water and stood up. “We’ll all go! We can get some lunch while we’re out. At the Dockside Café? Their fried catfish would hit the spot right about now.”

  “All of us?” Sadie said. “No, no. You need to rest and not eat fried foods and I need to—”

  “Hush. You need to hush.” Mother clapped her hands. “Finish up and let’s get going. Uncle Camp can watch over the cottage.”

  Sadie shook her head. “We don’t all need to go.”

  I snapped a look at her. Surely she wasn’t going to suggest Mother and I go alone.

  “I can stay here,” she finished, throwing me to the wolves. “There’s so much to do.”

  Oh hell no. I wasn’t going alone with Mother. “I think you should come with us,” I said, smiling sweetly.

  It was her turn to give me a dirty look. “It’s just—How many people does it take to pick out a paint color?”

  Mother clapped her hands again. “That’s enough, girls. We are all going into town.”

  “But,” Sadie said.

  Mother narrowed her eyes. “Are you going to argue with your mama who just had a heart attack and nearly died?”

  I wanted to argue the “nearly died” part but recognized that it was to my benefit to take her side in this conversation.

  Sadie looked helplessly at me. “Well, I mean…”

  Mother coughed pathetically.

  Picking at the end of her braid, Sadie pressed her lips together in a fine line of resignation.

  “So it’s settled, then. Good, good.” Mother picked up her glass to take into the kitchen. “And oh, the cucumber water was delightful, Sadie. Adding the hint of thyme was a nice surprise. Quite refreshing.”

  Behind Mother’s back, Sadie acted out a fisherman reeling in a big catch. “I like it, too, but people are so accustomed to bottled water. They don’t know what they’re missing out on.”

  “I just had a thought.” Mother turned around and snapped her fingers.

  I nearly laughed when Sadie’s hands abruptly dropped to her sides, and suddenly it felt like we were little girls again, the two of us against the world. When had that changed? I thought back, trying to find an event, a date, something. And I suddenly realized it was when I met Connor. He’d consumed my life from the moment I saw him sitting at that library table, which had nothing to do with him and everything to do with me.

  Sadie had been right. I’d all but abandoned her to chase after love, to chase after the dreams I harbored of a perfect family, and in doing so I managed to damage the most loving relationship I already had.

  Mother hurried into the kitchen and started opening cabinets. “I could replace the bottled water in guest rooms with pitchers of water. Oh, I like that idea. I have a stash of quart-size pitchers around here somewhere.”

  Feeling queasy with guilt, I stepped in close to Sadie and kept my voice low. “That was impre
ssive. Maybe you should talk to her about her finances.”

  “Finances are where you shine, not me.” She picked up the bucket of water to dump out in the laundry room’s utility sink. She brushed by me, then glanced over her shoulder. “And for what it’s worth, Leala, I’m not sure what all is going on between you and Connor, but I know how much you love each other. That counts for something.”

  It counted for a lot. I glanced over my shoulder at the lilies on the table and thought of the apology in the note. For the first time in a long time, I felt a little flicker of hope.

  Chapter

  10

  Leala

  Sugarberry Cove’s hardware store was located a block east of the Landing. Sadie, decked out in sunglasses and a big hat that hid her hair, had volunteered to drive Mother’s truck, and I wasn’t sure if the offer was in deference to Mother’s health or because she was a notoriously bad driver, often running over curbs and shrubs and, once, a fire hydrant in front of the middle school. If it had been possible to die of embarrassment, I was certain I would have gone to glory on that particular day.

  I’d expected a full-on argument from Mother about the driving arrangement, but she’d agreed peacefully, docile as could be. I should’ve known she had ulterior motives. The five-minute drive had taken nearly an hour, because Mother had made Sadie pull over every time Mother spotted someone she knew to chat about her near-death experience, the fact that both girls were home and taking care of her, and the surprising delight of adding cucumber and thyme—thyme, of all things—to plain old water. Sadie and I grinned and bore the slow torture. Especially Sadie, who put on the tightest smile imaginable each time Mother said, “And did you see our Sadie is back in town? Isn’t she a sight for sore eyes? She’s only staying a few days this time around, but with any luck she’ll be back soon! She’s got to get back on the road. You know about A Southern Hankerin’, right? On that internet. Isn’t it fabulous?” Then Sadie had to get out of the truck to give hugs, accept kisses, make small talk, and show that yes, she still had glittery silver hair, and no, she hadn’t developed any special powers like being able to grant wishes like a genie.