The Lights of Sugarberry Cove

by Heather Webber

  “I silly.” He laughed and slapped the wall with the paintbrush, leaving a series of abstract crosshatches behind.

  From the corner of my eye, I watched Mama watch them, and there was something in her features, an awareness, maybe even jealousy, that I’d never seen before.

  Leala said, “Let me see your hand.”

  Tucker held his free hand out, and she guided the paintbrush, helping him paint his own palm. “Now, let’s do this.” She took his hand and pushed it against the wall, then pulled it back, leaving his palm print behind. She faked shock. “What’s your hand doing on the wall?”

  His blue eyes grew big and round, and he laughed again as he looked between his palm and the wall. “I paint!”

  “You did a good job, too. Can I have my brush back?”

  It took a second of deep contemplation, but he finally handed it over.

  “Thank you,” she said and wiped the remaining paint off his hand off with a rag.

  He gathered up his pencil and paper and went running for the back porch. “Noni! I paint. I draw!”

  He’d been calling Iona “Noni” all morning and had insisted on showing her every single item he came across. She’d long since told a worried Leala to stop stressing about him being a bother, because she loved his attention.

  Teddy might have serious competition for Tucker’s affections.

  “Don’t run with a pencil,” Leala called after him, and he slowed to a fast walk.

  Ah, that was the Leala I knew.

  Leala looked over at me. “Can you do me a favor and take a picture of that wall?”

  I put the roller down and snapped a shot of the tiny blue hand. “I sent it to your email.” And I also added the photo to an online album of my favorite pictures. I wanted to remember this moment always.

  “Thanks, Sadie.”

  Mama snapped the reservation book closed, effectively turning the attention back to her. “Such a shame about the Maloneys.”

  “How many days were they going to stay?” I asked, concerned about Mama’s sudden loss of income.

  “A full week. Arriving tomorrow, leaving next Sunday.” Mama stared at the closed book, deep lines creasing the skin between her eyes. “Oh well. Emergencies happen.”

  I said, “Mama, most of the inns and bed-and-breakfasts that I stay in keep the full deposit if the reservation is canceled within seven days of the trip.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m not like most places.”

  “But you are a business,” Leala added.

  Mama’s gaze narrowed. “Yes, thank you, dear. I’m aware. Bless your heart.”

  With her eyes closed, Leala tilted her head upward as if praying.

  On the back porch, Tucker climbed onto Iona’s lap with his pencil and paper. She said, “Can you draw me a boat?”

  “Noni, I see boats?” he asked excitedly and pointed outside.

  “Leala Clare,” Iona called out, “is it okay if I take Tucker outside to look at the boats?”

  Worry slashed across Leala’s face, and she swallowed hard. “Just be sure to hold his hand. He loves the water and won’t be afraid to jump in.”

  Laughing, Iona stood and took hold of his hand. “We’re quite a pair, then, because I feel the same way.”

  Leala didn’t take her gaze off them the whole time they walked toward the dock. Uncle Camp looked up and smiled as they neared.

  Mama made a production of putting the reservation book away. “Someone will call this week looking for a last-minute stay. Happens every year. A cancellation is not a big deal.”

  I said, “Mama, it’s good policy to have a protective clause for late cancellations. You might want to think about that for future reservations. I can help you draft a notice.”

  “Hmm. Yes. I’ll think about that,” she said sweetly before walking out to the porch, where she poured herself a tall glass of water infused with strawberry and lemons.

  By her tone, one similar to Leala’s dismissals, she most certainly was not going to think about it. “It’s good policy,” I repeated in singsong.

  “Mm-hmm,” she said as she sat down and put her feet up on a bench.

  “I’m present within myself,” Leala said under her breath, then looked at me and added, “Just one more day.”

  Unlike me, Leala wasn’t going to have any trouble leaving this place tomorrow morning. I wouldn’t be the least surprised if she already had her bag packed.

  I heard an engine and peeked out to see Connor’s car coming up the driveway followed by a pickup truck with LOCKHART CONSTRUCTION written on the door. Both parked along the mountain laurel hedge.

  Oh my.

  Mama called out, “I hope Connor remembered the charcoal. Can’t have a good cookout without charcoal for the grill.”

  I watched as Connor reached into the open trunk and pulled out a big bag of charcoal, hefting it over his shoulder. Will stepped up next to him and took three reusable grocery sacks from the trunk. They headed our way.

  Leala glanced out the window and said, “Looks like he’s got that and more.”

  “More? Like what?” Mama asked over her shoulder.

  Leala threw a worried glance at me as she said, “Like Will Lockhart.”

  “I’m fine with him being here,” I said in a low tone, meaning it. The ice had been broken between Will and me, and the thought of catching up with him no longer brought on any stress. If I was being completely honest with myself, I’d have to admit I was actually looking forward to it, but I certainly wasn’t ready to announce it out loud.

  Leala must have caught the sudden glint in my eye, because she smiled as if she knew my secret. I rolled my eyes, which made her smile widen.

  Mama’s feet fell off the bench with a thud. She set down her glass. “What’s this now? Will’s here?”

  Connor sailed through the front door and said, “Look who I ran into at Lockhart’s while I was picking up ice cream. I managed to talk him into helping you two finish this project.”

  “Oh, thank God,” Leala said dramatically. “I feel like I’ve been painting for weeks. Hi, Will.”

  “Hi, Leala,” Will said, then spared a tender look at me. “I’m happy to help out.”

  I suddenly went warm. Really warm.

  “Will, honey!” Mama practically sprinted into the room. “You’re so kind to help out, but surely you have better things to do on a beautiful sunny afternoon.”

  “No, ma’am,” he said. “I’m free for the rest of the day.”

  “We’re glad to see you, Will,” I said, trying to let Mama know I was okay with him being here. “Leala had resorted to letting Tucker paint. See?” I stepped aside to show off the handprint.

  “Tucker’s got some talent.” Will smiled. “Is he ready for a part-time job?”

  Leala laughed. “Not quite yet.”

  Mama glanced between all of us and must’ve realized she was stuck between a rock and a hard place. “Well. What a savior you are! Now Sadie can help me in the kitchen, while you and LC finish this entryway. Let me take those bags so y’all can get started. You’ll be done lickety-split; then you can be on your way.” She practically pried the bags out of his hands.

  Leala glanced at me, her eyes sparkly with mischief. “Will, if you don’t have plans for tonight, we’d sure love to have you join us for a cookout. As you can see, we have plenty of food.”

  Apparently Mama hadn’t picked up on my clue that I was fine with Will’s presence, because she made a strangled noise and looked at Leala with shiny daggers in her blue eyes.

  “Great minds,” Connor said, smiling at Leala as he headed for the backyard. “Will already accepted my earlier invitation.”

  “Splendid!” Mama pivoted toward the kitchen, bags in hand. “Just splendid. The more the merrier.”

  Will hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll get the rest of the bags.”

  Before Connor closed the sliding door behind him, I heard Tucker yell, “Daddy, Noni, boat!”

  Tucker
held Iona’s hand and jumped up and down excitedly as he pointed at a sailboat in the distance. Uncle Camp had abandoned his scrub mop and was chatting with Iona, both of them with big smiles on their faces. Not too far away Bree stood on her paddleboard doing the yoga pose Leala had taught her earlier. She wobbled and fell in the water, then came up laughing, a sound I couldn’t hear from so far away but wished I could.

  I walked over to the front door and watched Will take four more bags of groceries from the trunk, two in each hand. It had already been a good day.

  But now that Will was here, it felt like it had gotten a little bit better.

  Chapter

  14

  Leala

  “Mama!” Tucker laughed, tugging on my arms. “Moh?”

  Feeling slightly queasy, I was ready to be done swinging him around and around, but I needed Mother distracted for a few more minutes. She’d been watching Sadie like a hawk all afternoon, protecting her from spending any one-on-one time with Will and effectively ruining our plan to get Buzzy over here, but right now her eyes were on Tucker and me.

  “Tucker, are you hungry?” she asked from the patio table where she and Iona sat side by side, shaded by a large red umbrella. “Come sit with Meemaw. I have some watermelon, darlin’.”

  “Swing!” he said to her, then tugged my arms again. “Moh!”

  Buzzy was waiting for Sadie to stop by his house under the guise of returning his bowls. She’d hopefully come back empty-handed but with Buzzy in tow. With Will occupied playing cornhole and Mother trying to lure Tucker away from me, this was our best chance.

  “Okay. One more time,” I said as I gave Sadie, who was standing near the grill, a subtle nod. From the corner of my eye, I saw her grab the two bowls she’d set out earlier and sneak along the back of the house toward the honeysuckle-covered arbor.

  I picked up Tucker and swung him around until I got so dizzy I had to sit down on the lawn to stop the world—and my stomach—from spinning. Tucker collapsed on top of me, smelling of sunshine and smoke from the grill and pure, sweet love. I wrapped my arms around him and rolled back and forth as he giggled.

  An excited shout rang out from the sand pit down by the seawall where Teddy and Bree and Will and Uncle Camp were playing an intense game of cornhole.

  “And that’s how it’s done!” Teddy let loose with a gleeful laugh as she and Bree high-fived.

  Mother had an Elvis CD playing in the background, his voice drifting out of an ancient boom box, and I took a moment to just breathe in the scent of my little boy while my stomach settled. Except for being on the receiving end of Mother’s hostility, it had been a near perfect afternoon. With Connor’s and Will’s help, the entryway had been finished in no time at all and looked beautiful. For having had no nap, Tucker had been downright angelic, playing for most of the afternoon with Nigel and Iona and Uncle Camp, who’d introduced Tucker to jacks. My little boy had been enthralled with the tiny spiked toys and bouncing ball.

  I’d come into this weekend hoping to not lose my mind, my composure, or myself, and I was fairly proud for keeping two of the three. My composure was on its way to becoming a lost cause, due to the fact I’d grown weary of Mother trying to use Tucker to bait me.

  Nigel ran up with a tennis ball in his mouth, his tail wagging, and Tucker scrambled off me. “I throw!”

  I wrestled the ball from Nigel and handed it to Tucker. He reeled back and threw it as far as he could—which was approximately ten feet—then laughed as Nigel chased after it. Then he chased after Nigel, who apparently decided that being chased by Tucker was much more fun than playing catch. “Stay away from the water,” I called out as I stood up, and Tucker U-turned back toward the cottage.

  Connor stepped out of the house with a big platter in hand, gave me a slow smile that filled me with warmth and happiness, and then headed for the grill.

  At the sound of the screen door sliding closed behind him, Mother took a quick look around. “Where’s Sadie?”

  Citronella candles scented the air as I sat down in the shade of the patio table and feigned ignorance. “I’m not sure.”

  “Perhaps she stepped inside for a moment,” Iona said from her seat next to me, lifting her sweet tea and taking a slow, measured sip. She flicked me an amused glance, and I had the feeling she somehow knew what Sadie and I were up to.

  Mother’s gaze zipped toward Will, as if to reassure herself that Sadie was not within his arm’s reach. I had never seen Mother in mama bear mode, and it was a sight to behold. It might have taken her nearly thirty years to connect to it, but I supposed it was better late than never. All that being said, however, I thought she was overdoing it. It was obvious Sadie didn’t mind Will being around, and I hoped the two would find some time together to patch up the friendship that had been broken all those years ago.

  “Oh, look, Susannah—there’s Sadie,” Iona said with a nod.

  Side by side, Sadie and Buzzy were chatting animatedly as they walked under the arbor, and for a moment I thought Mother was going to fall off her chair.

  “What in the world?” she muttered.

  Buzzy stopped to talk with Connor, and Sadie sailed over to the table as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on. “I ran over to Buzzy’s to return his bowls, and it just didn’t seem right not to invite him to join us. Buzzy, come over and meet Iona.”

  Iona sat a bit straighter and smiled as Buzzy approached. “Ma’am,” he said with a dip of his head. “Any friend of Sadie’s is a friend of mine.”

  “Same,” she replied. “Pleasure to meet you. Your raspberries are some of the finest I’ve ever eaten.”

  “I can’t take all the credit. There’s a little lake magic in those berries. I couldn’t grow a darn thing until I moved here by the water.” He set a bowl of potato salad on the table, then swung his gaze to Mother. “Susannah. You’re looking well. Not everyone bounces back from a heart attack quite so prettily.”

  Mother sniffed as though she wasn’t going to be swayed by his sweet talk, then slowly smiled. “Thank you, Buzzy. I appreciate the kindness.”

  I stole a look at Sadie, and she wiggled her eyebrows. This plan of ours might actually work. I hoped and prayed it did, not only because Mother had always been at her best with Buzzy, but also because I hoped to allay some of the guilt I’d been carrying around for years.

  “Sadie!” Uncle Camp yelled. “Come tag me out, sugar. This old man needs a break.”

  Mother jumped up, nearly knocking over her chair. “Wait! I was next to play.”

  “You can take my place,” Bree said, stepping up to the table. “I need a drink.”

  She wore a hat that shaded her face but had her hair pulled back in a low ponytail. That she was out here with us, smiling and playing, spoke a lot of her true nature, of wanting to be included, despite her shyness, despite her scars.

  Sadie said, “Why don’t you and Buzzy play, Mama? You can team up against Will and Teddy. I have a few things to finish up in the kitchen.”

  “Yes”—Buzzy held out a hand—“why don’t we, Susannah?”

  After a moment of consideration, Mother slipped her hand into his. “All right.”

  Sadie gave me a surreptitious thumbs-up before heading into the house. Bree plopped into the chair across from me, wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, and poured herself a glass of sweet tea from the pitcher on the table. “I think I’ll stick to poker from now on. Less sweaty.”

  “And more profitable,” Iona said with a laugh.

  Bree smiled at that and it lit up her whole face. She was having fun, and it was good to see.

  As Mother walked behind my chair, she leaned down and whispered to me, “Don’t think I didn’t see that bowl of potato salad, LC. It’s your favorite, no? So strange Buzzy would have that ready to go like he did. We’ll talk about this later.”

  Iona chuckled, and I sighed.

  “What?” Bree’s eyebrows jumped up. “Did you set them up? Who is he?”

  “H
er ex-boyfriend,” I said, just as Uncle Camp reached the table.

  Bree whistled.

  Uncle Camp patted my shoulder. “Your mama’s going to skin you alive.”

  “I’m aware.” I smiled up at him. “And it’s okay. I’m used to it.”

  He shook his head, then spared a sweet glance at Iona before veering off toward the grill.

  “Mama!” Tucker said, racing up to the table. “I thirstyyy.”

  Tired, as well, if the whine in his tone was any indication. I drew him onto my lap and handed him my glass of lemonade. He took a careful sip, then sagged against me like his body was melting into mine. I raked my fingers through his damp hair and didn’t even mention the s-word. Sleep. With him being so overtired, it would only make him cranky. I glanced at my watch—it was nearly six. Too early for bedtime, but he’d missed his nap and taking one now would mean he’d be up all night. Not an option. I glanced over at Connor and noticed that he was looking at his phone. Had he gotten a text message from work?

  Taking a moment, I focused on my breathing and tried to tell myself not to march over there, take his phone away, and chuck it into the lake alongside mine. He tucked the phone in his pocket, then looked over at me and smiled when he saw me watching him.

  Maybe it hadn’t been work. Maybe he’d been checking the weather. Or the sports pages. Or the safe internal temperature for grilled hamburgers. Or … maybe I was delusional.

  “Do you think they’ll get back together?” Bree asked as she watched Mother and Buzzy toss beanbags.

  “Hard to say.” I pulled my attention away from Connor. “They still have feelings for each other, but sometimes love just doesn’t work out.”

  “Relationships are like those yonder water oak trees.” Iona nodded to the trees in Buzzy’s yard. “Sometimes you grow apart only to grow together again. If you’re willing to bend, anything is possible.”

  Bree looked over her shoulder. “Those trees are cool.”

  “Cool,” Tucker echoed, then yawned.