The Lights of Sugarberry Cove

by Heather Webber

  I turned back to Will, saw that smudge, and could hear jazz playing in my mind. “All right, I’ll go.”

  A slow smile spread across his face, stretching wide.

  I suddenly wanted to run upstairs, give my hair a good brushing, throw on some lip gloss. Something. But it didn’t really matter. None of that stuff had ever mattered with Will.

  I went into Mama’s office, where I’d been keeping my purse, frowned at the papers I still needed to go through, grabbed my bag, then closed the door. I’d taken only a step when I heard thudding footsteps on the stairs.

  “Sadie?” Leala called.

  I hurried to the bottom of the staircase. “Yeah?”

  She raced down the long flight of stairs and paused at the landing, looking down at me. Connor stood right behind me, and Will behind him.

  “You all right?” I asked her. She looked like she had woken up, saw the clock, threw on a robe, and raced down the stairs. No stopping to get dressed. No brushing her hair. No nothing.

  “Tuck?” she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

  “He’s outside with Uncle Camp and Iona,” I said. “And Moo.”

  Her gaze went to Connor, and abruptly, she sat down on a step and burst into tears. Full-fledged heaving sobs that I hadn’t heard out of her since she was in grade school. My heart broke into a million pieces as I watched all the walls she had put up around herself dissolve into salty teardrops.

  Connor placed his hand on my shoulder as I started up the steps. “I’ve got this. You guys go get that coffee.”

  Before I even had much of a chance to think about it, Connor was up the stairs, and Leala was in his arms, looking like it was the only place in the world she wanted to be.

  * * *

  Drinks in hand, Will and I walked toward an empty bench that overlooked the cove. The sun filtered through the rustling trees along the promenade, dappling the pavement with dancing light. Below us, between twin lifeguard towers, people were spread out on the beach with their colorful umbrellas and folding chairs. A few people were in the water, mostly kids, splashing around. A rope of orange buoys marked the drop-off into deeper waters, where swimmers were prohibited.

  A stiff breeze sent strands of my hair flying across my face as I sat and jabbed my paper straw into the iced mocha frappe. “Life’s been a little heavy lately. Leala will be okay.”

  Will had wiped the paint off his cheek on the way over here, after I finally pointed it out to him, but a few flecks remained trapped in his beard. He sat next to me, angling his body my way. “And you, Sadie Way? Will you be okay?”

  I wanted to make a joke about how he’d rhymed, but he was so serious I didn’t dare. I looked out over the water, watching a sailboat with a bright-yellow sail glide across the water. “I’ll be okay, too. There’s actually been some healing this week, underneath that heaviness. There are still some open wounds, but I’m hoping that by the time I leave town again, they won’t be nearly as painful.”

  Running a finger down the side of his cup, he drew a straight line in the beaded condensation. “Is one of those open wounds me?”

  I thought about Leala and the wall around her heart and realized I had one around mine, too. I’d kept so many people at a distance these last eight years. It was time to do some demolition of my own.

  “You cutting me out of your life without even a goodbye hurt. It took years to get over it, and maybe, just maybe, I’m still not over it completely. And then finding out my mama might have played a role in it with her wish…” I blew out a deep breath. “It feels like betrayal. From both of you.”

  His body absorbed the verbal blow with a flinch. His stared out at the lake, at the same sailboat I’d been watching moments ago. “You don’t know that her wish was granted. What if your accident wasn’t the result of anyone’s wish? What if it was just … an accident?”

  “I wanted to stay here in Sugarberry Cove. I was going to drop out of school and get a job and stay. This has always been where I’m happiest. Yet, I ended up leaving, just like my mother wished. If I hadn’t left, we might’ve—” I cut myself off and shook my head. “I would’ve stayed.”

  In my head I could hear Mama telling me that if I wasn’t going to college, then it was a good time to travel, to see what life on the road offered me in terms of happiness and figuring out why I’d been saved. She hadn’t only wished me away but pushed me as well. With both hands.

  Light added golden flecks to Will’s brown eyes as he said, “It just seems to me that Lady Laurel, who’s all about kindness, wouldn’t grant a selfish wish. And that’s what your mother’s wish was—selfish. She wanted you to leave so she could live her life through you.”

  The words sank in slowly and deeply. Our wishes—mine, Mama’s, and Leala’s—had definitely not been kind. Not even close. “But if the wish hadn’t been granted, then how to explain it coming true?”

  “You made a choice to leave, Sadie. It was your choice. No one else’s. Not your mother’s, not Lady Laurel’s. Yours.”

  Sagging against the back of the bench, I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. It had always seemed like the choice to leave town had been made for me. To find my purpose in life, I had simply followed the path laid out before me, like Dorothy had followed the yellow brick road. But now I wasn’t so sure. Had I simply been caught up in the snowball effect after my accident? Leaving had seemed the only option at the time, to save face, to protect myself, to seek a reason for the accident, to find out why I was still alive.

  Yet, all these years later, I was still in the exact same headspace, wasn’t I? Wanting to stay, yet feeling like I hadn’t found the meaning of my life. And if I hadn’t found it in eight years of being away from home, was I ever going to find it?

  “The reason doesn’t really matter now,” he added, nudging my shoulder. “It was a long time ago.”

  “It matters to me.” All this time I had been blaming my selfish wish for my life choices. Every time I ached to go home, I’d tell myself that I had to stay away, to find my life’s calling. But I’d simply been making excuses. Excuses for the choices I continued to make every single day.

  Uncle Camp’s voice echoed in my head. All I’m saying, darlin’, is that the decisions you make today affect your tomorrows. Choose carefully.

  As the wind blew the sailboat out of sight, I wanted to cry. Cry for who I’d been, so caught up in needing a reason to still be alive … and not appreciating simply that I was. It shouldn’t have mattered what people thought or did.

  He stared at his hands, his long fingers, at the calluses that told of years of hard work. “Do you ever have nightmares about that night?”

  He didn’t need to specify which night. I knew. “Dreams sometimes.” Of floating among all the lights, feeling at peace. “Not nightmares. Why? Do you?”

  “Every once in a while. Always the same. I jump in the water to save you, and I see you. You’re right there surrounded by all this beautiful silvery light, holding your hand out toward me, but I just can’t reach you, no matter how hard I swim. And then you slip away.”

  I swallowed over the sudden lump in my throat. He’d been one of many who’d jumped in the water after I fell off the dock. No one had been able to find me in the deep, dark murkiness. Will himself nearly had to be rescued after becoming exhausted from the effort. Uncle Camp had told me Will crumpled onto the dock and sobbed when I wasn’t located quickly, and I almost cried now imagining what he went through. What they all had gone through.

  My voice was tight, strained, as I said, “It was a traumatic night for a lot of us. But I’m here; I’m fine. I know you did everything you could.”

  He didn’t seem convinced, and I had the feeling that anything I said wouldn’t change his mind. It was likely a form of survivor’s guilt, even though I was still alive.

  “What happened to you after I left town?” I asked. “What happened to becoming a pharmacist?”

  After a long pull on his drink, he wiped a droplet
of condensation off his beard. “I went back to college after you left, but I fell into a dark place, and it took a long time to see the light again. I slogged my way through that first year. During the summer, I found a job as an apprentice to Old Man Beasley. Remember him?”

  I nodded. He was a giant of a man with a big round belly and a hearty laugh. He owned a do-it-all handyman service that Mama had hired a few times when Uncle Camp didn’t have the know-how to fix the plumbing or electricity.

  Will went on, saying, “That work brought happiness back to my life, but I was committed to getting my degree. I was in my second year when I realized being a pharmacist wasn’t for me. I switched my major to business and at the end of that spring semester, I went back to work with Old Man Beasley. He hired me on every summer that I was in school. It took five years to get my degree. Old Man Beasley retired about the same time I graduated. He generously gifted me his client list as a graduation present. I opened my own company and haven’t looked back.”

  I’d barely heard what he said, too caught up on one part in particular. “Dark place? Why?”

  He ran his finger down the side of the cup again. “You weren’t the only one with a broken heart, Sadie. I knew you were wanting to come back to Sugarberry Cove to stay, and I was ready for it. Ready to make the leap, the big commitment.” He let out a joyless laugh. “My wish that night you fell in? It was to finally work up the nerve to kiss you, because I was tired of pretending to just be your friend. I loved you. I wanted a life with you. But then you came to me after your accident, talking about needing to leave to find your greater purpose. What was I supposed to do?”

  My heart pounded in my chest. He’d loved me. “You should’ve told me how you felt. I would’ve stayed.”

  He shook his head. “That’s exactly why I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t be the person holding you back from destiny. I had to let you go.”

  I recalled the day I told him I had to leave, how I’d talked up needing to find my purpose in life, mostly trying to talk myself into actually leaving. Bad choices had consequences, and I was suffering from mine. Tears pooled, and I willed them not to fall.

  “Not long after you left, I realized the occasional texts and phone calls from you ended up hurting more than helping my heartache. Back then it was just too painful to be in your life when I couldn’t be with you.”

  So instead of talking to me, telling me how he felt, he’d chosen to go to a dark place all alone. “You—” My breath caught in my throat, and I forced the words out. “You could’ve at least told me.”

  “I planned to, but it wasn’t a conversation to have over text message. It had to be face-to-face. So I waited. But you never really came back. Until now. I’m sorry, Sadie. I never meant to hurt you. It’s just that back then I couldn’t see past my own pain to consider yours, and when I did finally recognize it, so much time had gone by that reaching out felt like an intrusion into the life you’d made for yourself.” He looked deep into my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  More bad choices and more snowballing. If he hadn’t cut contact with me, I might’ve come back more often. But knowing I might run into him had scared me off. He’d hurt me so badly. We’d hurt each other. “I’m sorry, too,” I said softly.

  He let out a joyless laugh. “We made a real mess of things, didn’t we? It’s not too late to try again, Sadie Way.”

  Try again. All at once, I felt that dormant love for him spark to life, flame, and start blowing hot, and I forced it to cool. “I have to admit that these last few days I’ve started to wonder if maybe we still had something, but, Will, it’s not fair of me to suggest exploring that, because I’m leaving again. Soon. My job is on the road.”

  Abruptly, I stood up and tossed my cup in the recycling bin nearby so he couldn’t see the tears in my eyes. I supposed I’d always hoped we’d find our way back to each other, someday, somehow. But suddenly it seemed impossible, and I had to admit to myself that first loves were rarely forever loves.

  I willed my voice not to shake as I added, “Thanks for the coffee. I’m going to head back to the cottage now. I’m sorry.” My voice broke. “For everything.”

  He stood up and grabbed my hand. “Sadie Way.”

  I looked at our hands. Ever since the first time we’d touched in tenth grade, I’d believed we were meant to be together. A Will and a Way. I closed my eyes against the misery consuming me, and when I opened them again, his face was blurry through my tears. As he wiped a tear from my face, his callused thumb scraped against my cheek. I fought the urge to press my face against his palm, to lean into him, to stay there and never move again.

  “Suggest it,” he whispered. “Long-distance relationships can work.” He cracked a smile. “I mean, as long as you don’t stay away another eight years. We’re older now and understand better that life doesn’t always go the way we want. Don’t we owe it to ourselves to see what could happen?”

  Long-distance relationships had never worked for me before now, but the plea in his voice was swaying me. I closed my eyes again, trying to sort through all my feelings. The guilt, the regrets, the love.

  “Look,” he said, “you don’t have to answer just now. Think on it, okay?”

  With a curt nod, he let go of my hand and we headed back to the cottage.

  As much as I had wanted to say yes to him, to give it a try, the last thing I wanted was to hurt him. Again.

  Chapter

  22

  Leala

  I barely even noticed Sadie and Will walking out the front door. I was too caught up in myself, in the flood of emotions that had overcome me, knocking me off my feet, tipping my world sideways.

  Everything had felt so wrong when I woke up. The bright sunshine streaming in the window, the pillow, the room itself. Then I saw that Connor and Tuck were gone, noted the time, and panicked. Why hadn’t Connor woken me up before he left for work?

  Connor held me close, letting me sob into his chest. His hand rubbed my back, and he kept saying, “It’s okay, Leala Clare. Let it out.”

  It.

  Everything I’d been holding in forever. All the small hurts. The life-altering sorrows. The rejections. The fears. The regrets. Oh Lord, the regrets.

  I let it pour out of me until there was nothing left but a hollow ache waiting to be filled again.

  Connor kissed the top of my head, leaving his lips against my hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t wake you up. You looked so serene that I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t pass up giving you another hour or two of peace. Another day of troubles and worries could wait awhile.”

  “It was nice of you.” I wiped my eyes and nose with the hem of my nightshirt and took a shuddering breath. “I just … wasn’t expecting it.” My eyes welled again, trying to think of the last time Connor had let me sleep in. Not that I’d ever slept too late, but I’d read or watch TV in bed.

  My birthday, last December. That had been the last time. Work had slowly taken over his life, his time, and there had been little left to spare for luxuries like sleeping in—for him or me. “Aren’t you late for work?”

  Not meeting my eye, he stood and offered me a hand. “Do you want some coffee? We can talk out on the back porch so you can keep an eye on Tucker.”

  Concerned by his demeanor, I took his hand and we went down the steps and into the kitchen. He poured me a cup of coffee, stirred in a splash of cream, and handed me the mug. On the back porch, I breathed in the lily-scented air as I sat in a rocker. On the back lawn, Tuck was holding a basket of flowers that also had Moo hanging out of it. I smiled despite my mood.

  “I woke up early this morning to draft my resignation letter,” Connor said.

  Shocked, I nearly spilled the coffee and set the mug on the side table. “You did?”

  “I’d been trying to come up with ways I could keep my job somehow, cut back my hours, take on another role within the company—something. But yesterday made it crystal clear that nothing was going to change if I stayed with the fir
m, except that I was going to lose you. And if it’s a choice between my job and you, I’ll always choose you, Leala.”

  I swiped away the tear on my cheek. For some reason I wasn’t as happy as I thought I’d be. I never wanted it to be a choice. “I’m sorry. I know how hard you’ve worked.”

  “Don’t apologize. This weekend’s really made me see how I’ve lost myself. Everything I’ve ever stood for. Everything I’ve ever wanted.”

  “I don’t think you’re totally lost,” I said with a small shrug. “Just … taking the scenic route. Fortunately, it seems like it might be a loop. One that has circled back to me and Tucker.”

  He glanced at me. “I love you, you know.”

  “I know.” The stupid tears welled up again. “I love you, too, and I can’t tell you how good it is to have you back. Well, after your two weeks is up, because I’m sure the firm is going to get every billable minute they can out of you.”

  And if there was anything I knew about Connor, it was that he’d given two weeks’ notice. In that time, he’d dot every i, cross every t, and make sure that whoever took over his role was well prepared.

  “Actually, when I called in this morning to say I was going to be late, I got pushback about it. So I quit right then. Effective immediately.”

  My jaw dropped. “No way.”

  At my expression, he laughed. “It didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. Truthfully, it felt pretty good.”

  I launched myself at him, landing in his lap. I swung my legs over the arms of the rocker and snuggled in. He wrapped his arms around me and held me close and said, “I want to take a little time. Just us, as a family.”

  I was already looking forward to it. “Done. Then what?”

  “When I was at Lockhart’s the other day, I noticed there was an office for rent above the store. I’d like to check it out. Might be time to hang out my own shingle.”