The Lights of Sugarberry Cove

by Heather Webber

  “I know. I saw her walk by earlier with Camp and a few others.” He took a sip of the tea. “This is tasty. Thank you.”

  He’d known she wasn’t going to be here and had purposely avoided her. I often wondered what had happened to them, and if my wish eight years ago had played a role in their breakup. After all, it had happened around the same time, only a day or two after I fell in the water. And although my wish hadn’t had anything to do with their relationship, I couldn’t help thinking the two events were related somehow. As if one thing had led to another. A snowball effect.

  Unable to suppress my curiosity, I said, “If you don’t mind me asking, Buzzy, what all happened between you two? I really thought you were going to get married someday.”

  For a moment I didn’t think he was going to answer, but then he said, “Let’s just say that we had a fundamental difference of opinion. Neither of us would bend.”

  I had no doubt Mama’s stubborn streak had struck again. “What kind of fundamental difference?”

  He stared into his glass like he was seeking guidance from the ice cubes. “It had to do with love.”

  With love? I hadn’t been expecting that answer.

  Tension pulled on the corners of Leala’s mouth as she stepped up beside me. “Maybe things have changed. People do change. Sometimes it’s for the better.”

  “Maybe so,” he said. “But then again, maybe not.”

  “Only one way to find out,” I offered up.

  “You need to talk to her,” Leala added with an encouraging nod.

  He laughed. “Why do I feel like I’m being double-teamed?”

  “What?” I asked innocently. “Would Leala and I do that to you?”

  We grinned at him. He rolled his eyes.

  Leala turned to me. “Oh! I know. Earlier Mother was talking about having a party. How about tomorrow night we have a cookout?”

  I opened my mouth to protest, and she held up a hand.

  “It’ll be a small gathering. A party is just the thing to break the ice between you two, Buzzy. That way talking to her isn’t such a big thing. It can be casual. Just to see if there’s anything still there that might be worth pursuing. What do you two say?”

  I thought about Buzzy and Mama and how they’d once seemed inseparable. Sometimes literally since they weren’t shy with their public displays of affection. He’d had a way of softening Mama’s hard edges, and she’d had a way of making him shine. “Okay. I’m in.”

  We both faced Buzzy.

  He took a long look at us and let out a little huff of defeat. “I never could say no to you two. All right. What can I bring?”

  “I’d personally kill for your potato salad,” Leala said. “It’s been years since I’ve had it. I miss it almost as much as I’ve missed Sadie, and that’s saying something.”

  My heart swelled and again I asked myself why it felt like I was punishing myself for staying away … rather than protecting myself.

  Buzzy smiled. “No need to go to such drastic measures, LC. Potato salad it is.” He glanced at his watch, then set his glass on the peninsula. “I should get going before everyone comes back. See you tomorrow.”

  As he headed out the back door, Leala said, “Why doesn’t it bother me when he calls me LC?”

  “I suspect it has more to do with Mama than the nickname itself.”

  She frowned, picked up his glass, and brought it to the sink.

  My head came up as I heard a car door out front. I walked over to the front window.

  “Hey, Leala?” I called out. “Doesn’t look like you need to run home after all.”

  “Why’s that?”

  I pulled open the front door. “Connor is here.”

  Chapter

  12

  Leala

  “Mama!” Tucker barreled up the steps and ran straight to me for a hug.

  He threw chubby arms around my neck and laughed as I picked him up and covered his face in kisses. He leaned back, took my face in his hands, and said, “Hi!”

  My heart melted. “Hi, buddy. I missed you.”

  I breathed in the scent of him, the baby shampoo and peanut butter and … Tucker. It wasn’t a smell I could describe, but my heart knew it. It would know it anywhere. I wanted to hold on to him and never let him go.

  He looked around and lifted his hands, palms up, in question. “Where Meemaw? Where Campy?”

  I adored how Tucker called Uncle Camp Campy, mostly because it sounded like Grampy. Fitting, since Uncle Camp had been a grandfather figure to Sadie and me our whole lives, and now he was filling that role for my little boy, too. They were best buddies whenever they were together. And even though we didn’t spend great periods of time with my mother, she had somehow managed to charm Tucker. He adored her, and I had to admit she was a different person when she was with him. Kinder. Gentler. Patient. As a grandmother, she was the mother I’d always wanted her to be.

  “They’re not here right now, but Auntie Sadie is. Say hi?” I pivoted toward the stairs so Sadie came into his view.

  Tucker buried his face in my collarbone and shook his head.

  “Hi, Tucker!” Sadie said in a high-pitched tone. “You’ve gotten so big. And you’re the cutest boy I’ve ever seen.”

  Tucker took another peek at her, then buried his head again.

  “Don’t take it personally. He gets a little shy around people he doesn’t know well.” I regretted the words the moment I saw her flinch. “That didn’t come out right. Sorry.”

  “It came out perfectly well.” She bent to gather the tarps that had been covering the stairs. “It’s true—he barely knows me.”

  “Well, it’s not too late to change that,” I said.

  She glanced over at me, the plastic bunched in her arms, and nodded. “No, it’s not.”

  Tucker wiggled and I set him down. “Moo?” he asked.

  I looked outside. Connor was taking a bag out of the trunk of his car. Tucker’s overnight bag. Moo was hanging out of one of the zipper pockets. “Daddy has him.”

  Why, though, was he carrying an overnight bag? Had he changed his mind about Tucker staying with me? So much for their bonding. Anger burned, low and hot in my stomach, as Connor came up the steps.

  “Hey,” he said when he saw me.

  He gave me a lopsided smile, and at the sight of it, some of my anger fizzled. Until I saw the bag in his hand again. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Didn’t you get my text?”

  I shook my head. “Didn’t you get my email?”

  His eyebrows dropped into a deep V shape. “I haven’t checked email since you left yesterday morning.”

  At that, all the anger drained out of me, evaporating nearly as quickly as it had come on. I rushed forward, throwing my arms around him. He hadn’t checked either of his email accounts, home or work. He’d kept his promise.

  “Hey now,” he said, dropping the bag to wrap his arms around me.

  I felt Tucker throw an arm around my leg and looked down to see him hugging both Connor’s and my knees. I blinked away sudden tears.

  Sadie coughed. “I’m just, uh, going to fold laundry. Hi, Connor.”

  “Hey, Sadie,” he said.

  Swallowing hard, I pulled away from him and explained about my phone. “What’s with the bag?”

  “Moo!” Tucker yelled and yanked his favorite stuffed animal free. I picked them both up, and Tucker wiggled again until I set him down. “Meemaw?” he asked.

  “She’ll be back soon, buddy.” To distract him from asking for my mother, I asked, “Do you want a snack?”

  With Moo tucked under his arm, he ran on stubby legs to the kitchen, and Connor lifted him onto a counter stool at the peninsula. As I made up a plate of leftover mini scones and raspberries, I noticed the laundry room door was open a crack and smiled. It was only fair if Sadie was eavesdropping, seeing as how I’d done the same to her earlier.

  Connor leaned a hip against the counter. “Round about noon, Tucker and I
were eating lunch, and he was throwing the pieces of his sandwich on the floor, and I hadn’t even cleaned up breakfast yet, or gotten dressed for the day, and”—he took a deep breath—“I don’t know how you do it day in and day out.”

  A part of me liked that he’d been overwhelmed by daily life with a toddler, especially one who probably took full advantage of not having me there. But I also recognized that because Connor had never spent more than a few hours alone with Tucker, he had been destined for burnout. He didn’t know our routines. He didn’t know when Tucker was pushing his limits, testing his boundaries, and when he was just being a little boy set on adventure. Connor had missed so much.

  “Is that why you came here?” I asked. “Because you were at wit’s end from caring for Tuck?”

  Connor flashed a shy smile. “I’m not going to lie, I was stressed out, but it’s not why we’re here.” He scratched at stubble on his cheek—apparently he hadn’t even found time to shave today.

  “At lunchtime I just kept staring at your empty seat at the kitchen table. As much as I said I wanted this weekend for just Tucker and me, it just didn’t feel right without you there, Leala. Life just isn’t right without you there. And since you can’t come home right now, I thought maybe Tucker and I could stay with you. Here, at the cottage. My bag is in the car.”

  I set the plate on the counter and Tucker grabbed a scone and shoved nearly the whole thing in his mouth. “Small bites, Tucker.”

  He was already reaching for another scone, and I couldn’t help but smile as he tried to feed it to Moo. My gaze lifted to Connor’s. “I want you to stay, I do. But—” From the corner of my eye, I saw the vase of lilies sitting on the dining table on the back porch. Now and forever. My heart hurt, and I closed my eyes against the ache.

  “I know,” he said quietly. “I realized today how often you must look at my empty seat at the table. How often Tucker sees it. And how did I not know that he doesn’t like apples? Or that he hums when he brushes his teeth? Or that he calls bubbles ‘boobies’?”

  Despite myself, I smirked at the last one. I’d been trying to break Tucker of that particular phrasing for a while now. It didn’t help that I laughed every time he said it.

  “Leala, I know there has to be a change,” Connor said. “Give me time to figure it out. Please. Just a little time.”

  I looked into his eyes, into that deep sea of blue, and saw a brief glimpse of the old him. It swayed my decision. “All right.”

  Slowly, he smiled and came around the counter. I willingly went into his arms, loving the feel of his hug. Loving him.

  It was good to have the old Connor back.

  The only question that remained was how long he would stay.

  Sadie

  “That one divorced not long after this episode first aired,” Mama pointed out. “And that one, too. Those two hate each other but pretend to be friends. Oh, that one. She’s a real piece of work. Manipulates her so-called friends to do her dirty work.”

  It was late, almost eleven, and I was bone tired. How Mama was still awake, I’d never understand. We sat in her bed, both of us propped up with pillows. She had a bowl of Tabasco-and-chipotle-flavored air-popped popcorn on her lap. I had salted and buttered popcorn and pretended not to notice when every so often she accidentally slipped her hand into my bowl instead of hers.

  I’d given up my bed to Connor and had been planning to sleep on the living room couch but Mama wouldn’t hear of it. I’d share her big bed and that was that. “Just like old times,” she’d said.

  But honestly, I couldn’t remember a time I’d ever slept with her. Not when I was sick. Or hurt. Or scared. I’d always sneaked into bed with Leala during those times, and she’d groan but pat my back and take care of me. Love me.

  “You do know this show is scripted, right?” We were watching one of the reality TV Housewives shows—and Mama was giving me a play-by-play.

  She swatted playfully in my direction. “Hush your mouth. Ooh, that one there is richer than God. Probably sold her soul to the devil to get all that money.” She crunched a piece of popcorn. “I might could sell mine for that kind of cash, too.”

  I jumped through the door she opened. “What would you do with that kind of money?”

  “What wouldn’t I do?” She laughed. “Give Camp a raise, first off. That man is a saint. Travel more, definitely. Get out and see the world.” She launched into an off-key version of “A Whole New World” from Aladdin, complete with flourishing arm gestures, and I had to laugh before shushing her when Nigel started barking. He clearly had a discerning ear.

  “What about the cottage?” I asked.

  “With unlimited funds? I’d hire a live-in manager. Make it more of an investment property. Give the old gal the upgrades she needs.”

  Ah. So Mama wasn’t blind to the renovations the cottage desperately needed, which made me even more worried about her having money troubles. I had to tread lightly. “Small updates don’t cost too much. Paint and such. I’m sure you could sweet-talk Will into cutting you a deal.” I was pretty sure she could sweet-talk anybody into anything.

  “Maybe so, maybe so. But I prefer the free labor you and LC are giving me.”

  “Our free labor runs out this weekend.”

  “Then I should take advantage while I can, no?”

  The way she dismissed Will’s involvement made me think Leala had been right about her protecting me. I wasn’t used to such loving gestures from Mama, and basked in the warmth of her caring enough to shelter my feelings.

  She grabbed another handful of popcorn and washed it down with a sip of Diet Coke. The ice cubes rattled as she set her glass back on the nightstand. With a nod to the TV screen, she asked, “What would you do with that kind of money? Spread your wings? Take your show across the pond, so to speak?”

  “My wings are happy staying in the South. And I’m not much of a spender. Leala would probably tell us both to invest it.”

  “Humph,” she said.

  “Mama.”

  Mama’s irritation with Leala hadn’t dissipated during her time away from the cottage for dinner. When she’d returned, she’d been downright gleeful at seeing Tucker and friendly with Connor, but she had continued to give Leala the cold shoulder. An ice-cold shoulder.

  “Did you know LC almost died?” Mama asked, the words coming out in an annoyed flutter.

  I poked around my bowl, looking for a piece of popcorn saturated with butter. “Found out today, same as you.”

  Mama tsked. “It ain’t right, her not telling us. Her almost dying and not telling her own mother.”

  “Actually, it is her right not to tell us.”

  Mama sat upright. “Don’t you go taking her side, Sadie Way Scott.”

  I gently pushed her back against the pillow. “Don’t go getting riled up. You’ll have yourself another heart attack.”

  “My heart’s just fine.”

  “Is that so? If you ask me, the cardiac unit of a hospital seems an odd destination for a vacation.”

  She humphed again.

  I sighed and tried to stay on point. “All I’m saying is that not everyone likes to share absolutely everything. Sometimes it’s too painful to talk about—and keep talking about.”

  “You should be able to talk to family about anything. Especially your mama. Or your mother as the case may be.”

  She’d sneered the word mother, and I had to fight not to roll my eyes. “Maybe so. But I know if I had the choice, no one would know about my accident. I don’t like thinking about it, let alone talking about it. Yet, eight years later and people do talk. Talk, talk, talk.” I gave her a pointed glare.

  She pursed her lips, then said, “Talking heals.”

  “Talking hurts.”

  “Hurting is how you know you’re healing.”

  Then I must be healing right this minute, I decided, because this conversation had become seriously painful. “All right, then, why don’t you tell me what happened between you and Buzzy
? Why did you break up?”

  “I don’t want to talk about that.”

  I couldn’t help myself. I laughed. Then Mama let out a snort of laughter, too. “Fine, Sadie. Your point is taken. Why would you even bring up Buzzy after all this time?”

  “I saw him today. Gave him a big ol’ bear hug.”

  She sat up again. “You did? When?”

  “He came by while you were at dinner. He heard about your heart attack and brought you some raspberries from his garden.”

  She sniffed as if disinterested; however, her body language and the light in her eyes told a different story. “He did? Well. That was nice of him, wasn’t it? I’ll be sure to write him a thank-you note.”

  Leala and I had decided not to tell Mama of our cookout scheme so she wouldn’t lose sleep tonight trying to take over the planning. We’d spring the idea of a party on her in the morning.

  “Very nice,” I echoed.

  “Why didn’t you tell me earlier he’d stopped by?”

  I nearly choked on a piece of popcorn. “Plumb forgot, what with Connor and Tucker showing up.”

  “That was a surprise. LC could’ve gone home, you know. I’m fine.”

  “Yes, I heard.”

  “You were joking about the vacation, but hand to God, this is the most time I’ve had off since we took that trip to Disney when you girls were little. I’ve never felt so rested.”

  “You should take more time off.”

  She set her empty bowl on the nightstand. “And who’d run the cottage? Camp can’t do it all alone.”

  “Shut it down for a couple of days.”

  “Then how would the bills get paid?”

  At that, my worries about her financial troubles grew exponentially. Was it possible she didn’t have enough in savings to take even a few days off? I took a deep breath and asked, “Mama, are you doing okay? Moneywise?”

  “What?” She laughed.

  A little too hard if you asked me.

  “Of course I am,” she added. “Don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours. Now, see here”—she pointed to the screen—“what you don’t know yet is that the blond is sleeping with the other blond’s husband.”