Connor sat up, leaned back against the headboard. “You weren’t the only one trying to prove something, Leala Clare. I got so caught up in being successful, of proving my worth, that I forgot that self-worth doesn’t come from a big paycheck. It was just so easy to fall into the golden handcuff trap, of keeping up with the Joneses, of earning more and spending more. I actually think my parents would be embarrassed by all this … excess. Of how far I was sidetracked from what’s truly important.”
The small box of items he’d brought back from the firm yesterday had been unquestionably contrary to the amount of time he’d put into his work. It was yet another sign to me that he’d made the right choice in leaving the company. He’d given so much of himself for such little return. Return that went beyond compensation. Recognition. Achievement. Pride. He’d been one of many small cogs that churned an enormous wheel, and I couldn’t wait to see him flourish on his own.
Glancing around, he swallowed hard. “Yet, part of me doesn’t want to let this house go. Letting it go somehow feels like failure.”
I took hold of his hand. “It’s not failure. It’s growth. It’s us finally realizing what we want out of life and that we are willing to make the hard choices to see it happen.”
With a pained look, he asked, “Do you want to move back to New Orleans? Does this have to do with your mother? Are you plotting an escape?”
“My mother? No. She’s…” I trailed off, trying to find a word to fit my feelings and couldn’t. “She says she’s going to travel, remember? I’m not sure I entirely believe her, about any of it. It feels too fast, too soon, like she flipped a switch.”
His blue eyes darkened as he watched me talking. “I think it’s a good thing she’s thrown herself into changing. Will it stick?” He shrugged. “The trust will come one moment at a time as she proves she’s trying.”
I supposed that’s all I could ask of her at this point—that she was trying.
“And what about New Orleans?” he asked. “Do you want to move back?”
“No. I just remembered how much I hated those roaches.” I shuddered and he laughed, the sound washing over me, filling me with happiness.
“I’d like to stay here in Sugarberry Cove. Just in a smaller house, one that we choose for all the right reasons. One that we design ourselves and fill with all the things we love.”
He ran a hand through his hair, already unruly, lifting it high. “I don’t think you know what you’re suggesting. I’m the one that picked out that red velvet sofa, remember? It was comfortable, yes, but undeniably hideous.”
I laughed and fell against him, and he wrapped his arms around me. “I’ll risk it.”
And as I lay against him, I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that these kinds of growing pains we were having now weren’t nearly as painful.
Instead, they were filled with glimmers of hope.
Chapter
25
Sadie
By Friday, I’d settled into a surreal routine, almost as if I were living a double life. So far there hadn’t been too many conflicts with juggling my career with being an innkeeper, but that was because now that there was Wi-Fi in the cottage, I had a couple of Southern Hankerin’ episodes queued. The mac-and-cheese video I’d recorded with Bree was a sweet love letter to her mother, and would buy me another week at the cottage before I had to resume my regular travel schedule.
Clouds blocked the sun as it set, sending the night into early darkness. The storms that had lingered for the past two days had dropped the temperature, a straight-up blessing this time of year in this part of the country.
“What happens to all the lanterns after the festival?” Bree asked. Nigel pulled on his leash, wanting to sniff every person we passed on the Landing’s crowded walkways.
As I glanced at Bree out of the corner of my eye, I smiled. She had grown so much over the past week, standing taller, straighter, facing the world head-on. Tonight, her hair was pulled back in a ponytail that swung freely as she walked, and since it was almost dark, she’d skipped the hat. When people did a double take, she smiled at them, disarming them immediately, and every single person smiled back.
“Come Sunday morning,” I said, walking so close to Will that our arms kept bumping, “the community comes together for Operation Floatilla,” I said, and then spelled out the word float so she’d get the play on words. “The lake will be covered with canoes, kayaks, rowboats, paddleboards, johnboats, and rafts, searching near and far for spent lanterns. It’s a contest, and whoever brings in the most lanterns wins a thousand dollars, which is usually donated to next year’s festival fund right then and there. There’s lots of hoopla and the festival committee has a breakfast buffet set up—it’s a big event all its own.”
Bree, Teddy, Nigel, Will, and I had walked over here from the cottage together, but soon we would split up, with Will and me turning toward the general store and them heading out to dinner. In the distance I heard the faint wail of the loon, and tonight the sound caught on my heart and hung there like it never had before. It was just one more part of my life I was going to miss when Mama sold the cottage.
Bree said, “Sounds fun. Definitely count me in for Sugarberry Cottage’s collection team this year.”
“Count me in, too,” Teddy added. “Usually I’m sleeping off a hango—I mean, sleeping in, but I can drag myself out for a good cause and a little hoopla.”
Bree smiled at her great-aunt. “We can team up on the two-person kayak so you don’t have to pay too close attention.”
Teddy laughed and put her arm around Bree. “Your kindness knows no bounds. This is where we turn off—we’ll see y’all back at the cottage.” With a wave, they pivoted toward the stairs for the Lower Landing.
Yesterday, Mama had finally told Teddy about her decision to sell the cottage, and my heart had ached when Teddy cried at hearing the news. Mostly because I wanted to cry, too, but was trying to stay strong for Mama. Mama had tut-tutted a consolation, repeating once again that the sale was for the best.
And maybe it was, but it certainly didn’t feel that way to me.
Leala had taken the news of the sale much better than I had. I didn’t like the idea at all. The cottage had been in the family for generations. It was home. Plus, what about Uncle Camp? Getting kicked out without a say-so? It was his home, too, even if he didn’t own it.
Yet … I wanted Mama to live her life, to go forward with no regrets.
In order for her to be able to do that, I had to set my feelings aside. It simply wasn’t fair of me otherwise.
At least we’d had all this last week together under one roof. Mama had opted not to fill the guest room Will had finished yesterday to keep the cottage as it was now, full with only the people she loved and had come to care for.
And as for me spending more time with Will, Mama had stopped trying to keep us apart and, in fact, had encouraged us to spend more time together. She never apologized for making that selfish wish of hers, but her support now and her promise to stop living through others were enough for me. And likely all I’d ever get. Mama rarely offered apologies, and I had the feeling her apology on the dock the other day for the mistakes she’d made was the only one I was going to hear.
“What’s on our list?” Will asked.
I’d been adding items to my shopping list throughout the day as I thought of just one more thing we might need for tomorrow night’s festival celebration. “Apparently, everything under the sun. After the general store, we need to hit the market, the liquor store, the butcher, and find some party goods. We should probably get the nonperishable items first.”
He nodded to the list in my hand. “Do you want to divide and conquer?”
I held his gaze, felt its heat, and was beyond glad we’d given ourselves another chance. “Nope.”
Smiling, he took my hand, lacing our fingers together as we weaved through foot traffic. Soon, we sailed through the open doors of the general store. The scent of waffle cones, of bu
tter and vanilla and cinnamon, wafted through the air, enticing me. “How about we get some ice cream first?” I suggested. “You know, to give us strength to get through this list.”
He laughed. “We’re supposed to meet Camp and Iona for dinner later, remember?”
I batted my eyelashes at him. “There aren’t any rules about not having dessert first.”
He shook his head but smiled as he turned me toward the ice cream counter. Once we had our orders, we managed to snag a table near the front window from a couple who were just leaving, and Will held my chair out for me as I sat down.
“Do you think Camp and Iona will continue to see each other after this week?” he asked, sitting across from me.
I stuck my spoon into a caramel sundae and smiled. “I think so. Uncle Camp recently told me that only a fool walks away from love. It’s been so sweet watching them together this week. They’ve been staying up late, playing card games, dancing, and watching movies while holding hands on the sofa. It’s adorable.”
Will took a big swallow of his milkshake, then rubbed the spot between his eyebrows and let out a low moan. “Brain freeze.”
I laughed at his comical expression. “I can barely remember what that feels like.”
“No brain freeze in all these years?”
I dragged my spoon through whipped cream, leaving behind a deep groove. “No nothing in all these years. It has its benefits. Like when I fell down the stairs the other day.” I smiled. “Nothing hurt but my dignity.”
“Does your family still not know?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I really don’t need my mother announcing to the town this particular talent of mine. You should see her talk about my hair. It’s enough.”
Worry creased his forehead. “Have you seen any more doctors about it?”
“No need. It’s doing me more good than harm, so why bother? I don’t need anyone to tell me it’s all in my head.”
“Do you think it’s all in your head?”
I fidgeted, uncomfortable with the conversation but not wanting to dismiss it. Will wasn’t being nosy—he was concerned. And if we were going to make a relationship work, then I needed to be honest. “No. But I don’t think it’s physiological, either. I think it’s tied to the sense of purpose I feel, that I’ve felt ever since waking up in the hospital. That hasn’t gone away, either. It’s always there, kind of like a humming in the background. There’s not a day that I don’t ask myself why I was saved.”
Pushing his shake away, he said, “Have you considered that there might not be a reason? That it was simply an act of kindness that saved you? Lady Laurel is known for her kindness.”
On the surface, it seemed the logical explanation. Lady Laurel had simply rescued me, brought me back from death’s door, because she was a generous being.
But under the surface, I felt that pulsing. The one that pushed me to keep looking for the true reason. “I think there’s more to it. I just haven’t figured out what that is quite yet.”
“It’s been eight years and thousands of miles you’ve traveled. What if you don’t figure it out?”
These were questions I had asked myself a million times over, but it set me on an uncomfortable edge hearing them from him. “I’ll keep looking.”
He studied my face. “What if you’ve been looking in all the wrong places? What if the answer has been here in Sugarberry Cove this whole time?”
I glanced past him, through the window, toward the sliver of lake visible between the buildings across the street. My heartbeat kicked up a notch at the thought that he could be right. “It might be,” I finally acknowledged. “Since I’ll be spending more time here, maybe I’ll finally get the answers I want.”
Will slid his glass between his hands and asked, “How much time do you think that is? Once a month? Twice? Three times? And how long will you stay each time?”
“I don’t know for sure.” For some reason I didn’t want to set a schedule. Not yet. I needed time to think things through. To plan. The logistics were going to take some getting used to. “First off, I need to check with Leala, to see if she’s okay with me crashing at her house while I’m in town.”
Just the other day Uncle Camp had told me I’d always have a room at the cottage, and the memory alone sent my spirits plummeting. I had to remind myself that Mama believed the sale of the cottage was for the best.
“You know, you can always stay with me,” he said, watching me carefully.
My cheeks heated and I smiled. “I’ll keep that option in mind.”
He smiled, too. “I hope you do, Sadie Way.”
Love finds a way, Buzzy had said of Will and me last weekend. And I certainly hoped it to be true, because right now I was worried that the pressure inside me to find my purpose would eventually force me to drift away again. Far away.
Why had I been saved?
I wasn’t sure, but one thing had become clear. If I was going to stay in Sugarberry Cove, I needed an anchor to keep me in place.
And suddenly I had an idea of where to find one.
Chapter
26
Leala
The night of the water lantern festival arrived with a gentle breeze. Bistro lights had been strung tree to tree, tiki torches had been lit, flames danced in the fire pit. For the end of August, it was a cool seventy-degree evening with low humidity, and it felt somehow like Lady Laurel had provided the pleasant weather as a gift to those who had gathered to cast their wishes afloat.
All around the patio table, lantern shades were being decorated. Tradition was that three sides of the lantern were decorated with drawings or messages or anything the heart desired. The fourth panel was reserved for the wish, which was written with invisible ink so no one else could see what you wanted most of all.
The launch of the lanterns wasn’t for another hour yet, at full dark, but already the lake was dotted with boats, their lights flickering on the water and twinkling in the dusky light. Music pulsated near and far, as many parties were underway along the shoreline and on boats, and oddly the differing melodies worked together rather than competed.
For our gathering, Mama had enlisted Buzzy’s help in creating a special playlist of songs that included any kind of mention of light or wishes. Ranging from “Light My Fire” by the Doors to “Freight Train” by Alan Jackson, it was an eclectic compilation that matched Mama’s personality perfectly.
“You should buy Buzzy’s house, Leala Clare,” Mama said as she spread pimento cheese on a cracker and waved a fly away from her plate. She had decorated her three lantern shades with a mandala pattern, all the hearts open. True to her word, she hadn’t written out a wish, but instead on that panel had used a marker to color a big heart with her and Buzzy’s initials inside of it.
“Buzzy’s house is for sale?” I asked, shocked at the news.
“Not yet.” He shook his head in disbelief at Mama. “I’ve been toying with the idea. Seems I’ve been bitten by the travel bug.”
“Aww.” Bree smiled at him and Mama as they kissed.
Sadie groaned at seeing them when she came outside with a platter of s’more fixings. “Not again.”
The sparkles in Sadie’s hair seemed to glitter extra brightly tonight, and hand to heart, it did look like starlight.
“Don’t be jealous, Sadie,” Mama said while fluffing her curls.
“Nauseous is more like it,” Sadie whispered as she sat down next to me.
This reminded me of all the times we’d hop on our bikes to escape Mama and Buzzy’s PDA, but I had to admit it was nice seeing Mama happy—and seeing her and Buzzy together again.
“There’s room enough for Camp over there, too, in the apartment above the garage,” Mama said. “And I’m sure Buzzy will give you a good deal.”
Again, he looked at her with disbelief but then laughed.
“What are we talking about?” Sadie asked as she started drawing hearts and books onto a rice paper panel.
Although she alway
s looked beautiful, there was something especially lovely about her tonight, an extra glow that made me realize she was happy. It filled my heart, and I promised myself to remember this always, but especially in the days ahead, after she hit the road again, when I’d be missing her something crazy.
“We’re talking about Leala and Connor buying Buzzy’s house,” Bree answered. One of her lantern panels was filled with colorful flowers, and written in a small heart among them was the word Mom.
My gaze skipped to Tucker, who was running around with Nigel. I hoped he’d always know how much I loved him. I added his name—and Nigel’s and Moo’s—to my lantern and drew one big heart around them.
“Really?” Teddy had come out with a platter of cupcakes and sat down. She faced Mama and Buzzy. “So you two can travel together? It’s so precious. I can barely stand it.”
“Wait, hold up.” Sadie put down her marker. “What’s going on?”
As Bree explained, I watched Uncle Camp, who was down at the cornhole set, tossing bags with Iona, Will, and Connor. My heart hurt, thinking of Uncle Camp having to move out of the cottage, but if he moved in with us next door, it might not feel like such a huge uprooting to him. “Buzzy, if you’re serious, I’ll need to talk to Connor about it.”
Buzzy glanced at Mama. “I’m serious.”
Mama grinned.
Tucker ran up to me, Nigel hot on his heels, and said, “Mama, throw ball?”
I smiled at him, at his messy hair and chocolate-covered mouth and the joy in his eyes. He’d actually taken a good nap earlier, which was nothing short of a blessing since we planned to let him stay up past his bedtime, to see the floating lanterns. I took the ball, tossing it toward Buzzy’s yard. The pair dashed off after it, Tucker laughing the whole way. My gaze shifted to the entwined water oaks, then to Buzzy’s house, which suddenly felt a whole lot like home.
The Lights of Sugarberry Cove Page 26
