A Sweethaven Summer (26 page)

“Good to hear it.” He paused and looked at Campbell. “This is Campbell Carter. I think you might remember her mom, Suzanne?”

He stared at Campbell, but she could tell by his expression her mom’s name hadn’t registered.

“She used to come when she was a kid,” Campbell said. “She hung out with Luke’s sister Meghan and Jane—”

“Oh, Suzi.” He laughed. “I remember. I haven’t seen her—wow, since I was in high school.”

Campbell glanced at Luke. He’d swooped in like a knight and saved her from the fire-breathing dragon.

“How is your mom?” Dr. Davis had folded his paper and now gave her his undivided attention.

Her imagination sprang to life again, this time with a giant pile of autumn leaves. She could smell their crispness. And then she was seven, burying him in the sand, jumping off a diving board into his arms, playing catch in the yard.

She pushed the daydream aside. “She passed away, actually.”

He sank back in his chair, slouched at the shoulders, and sighed. “I’m so sorry. She was young.”

“Cancer.”

He lifted his chin. “Ahh.”

“Dr. Davis, I was wondering if you and my mom ever—dated?”

“Suzanne and me?” He laughed. “No. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t have given me the time of day.”

“So you two never—” She squirmed in her seat. “I’m looking for my father.”

His eyes widened.

“My mom’s friends don’t know who he is and she never told me. Someone mentioned you were around a lot back then.”

She recognized the look in his eyes. Pity, clear and unrestricted. He felt sorry for her.

Humiliation stood at the door to her heart and knocked. She sighed. Another dead end. Another mistake. Another regret.

“I wish I could help you, but it wasn’t me. I was pretty hung up on Jane back then if you want to know the truth. Suzanne always tried to talk me into asking her out, but I was too chicken. The next summer, she’d already started dating the guy she ended up marrying.”

“Graham.”

Dr. Davis nodded. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-four. She got pregnant here, the summer before her senior year.”

He shook his head. “You know…” His eyes glazed over as if he were remembering something.

“What is it? Do you know who it could be?”

He hesitated for too long a moment and then re-focused his eyes on her, quickly looking away. “No, I’m sorry.”

“Dr. Davis, if you know something, please tell me. I have no one else.”

The harder she looked for her father, the angrier she grew with her mother for keeping this secret. What could be more important than leaving her with a father, rather than leaving her alone?

The bell over the door rang, grabbing Dr. Davis’s attention. His face lit, and Campbell turned to see a petite blond woman wearing black capris and a black and white striped shirt. A small, curly-headed girl who appeared to be about six or seven held her hand.

She probably built sand castles with Dr. Davis in the summer and snowmen in the winter.

“Daddy!” The little girl ran over to him, and he picked her up and squeezed her tight.

Awkwardness descended on Campbell, and she wished she’d never sat down next to him.

His wife stood at his side, her eyes darting from her husband to Campbell.

“Melissa, this is Campbell Carter. Campbell, my wife, Melissa.”

Campbell shook the woman’s hand and prayed for an easy escape. Whatever Dr. Davis had remembered, she wasn’t going to find out now.

“Nice to meet you, Campbell,” Melissa said.

“Campbell’s mom grew up here. I knew her way back when.”

“Oh? Is your mom here now?” Melissa’s smile warmed, and she seemed to relax a little.

“No, she died,” Campbell said. “Thank you for your time, Dr. Davis.”

“Anytime. If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.”

She nodded, gave another glance at his daughter, and then left the café, determined to give up looking for her father once and for all.

Jane awoke early, and the bright spring sun drew her out of bed. Her mental checklist skittered through her mind as she dressed. Orchard. Vineyard. Craft Sale at the Commons. Campbell’s art show. Suzanne’s memorial. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Wet eyes stared back at her. She dreaded the moment she officially said good-bye to her old friend.

She hurried into her warm-up pants and a sweatshirt and jotted a quick note for Graham.
Carrot cake is yours for the taking. Went for a walk. Back soon. —J

Before she left, she checked on her sleeping kids. The girls would sleep till noon if she let them. She wouldn’t.

She stepped out the door and inhaled the morning air, and despite all her trying, she couldn’t help but replay the horror of the day Alex had died. Behind their cottage, the dune peaked and then sloped down on the other side, leading to the lake. The climb had always been part of the fun for Alex.

She reached the top and stood, the cottage on one side, the lake on the other.

“Come
on
, Mom!” His voice rang in her memory.

She could hear the words, carried on the wind, and they echoed through the air in the very place they had originally been spoken.

She took a couple steps toward the lake but stopped. Could she do this? Alone?

Words from long ago sprang to mind.
I will never leave you or forsake you
.

God’s promises.
Do not fear, for I am with you
. She wasn’t alone. She’d known that since she was a girl, and God had proven it time and time again.

But this was different. This pain didn’t compare to any she’d ever felt. God couldn’t take this pain away.

Slowly, cautiously, she put one foot in front of the other.

“Mom! Come on!” Alex’s voice, so clear in her memory, drew her onward. She looked up and in the distance, by the lake, she could see him, running along the water. He darted out to meet the waves as they rushed to the shore.

“Alex?” she whispered.

She picked up speed, stumbling down the side of the sandy dune. Her eyes focused on Alex as his screams of excitement filled the early morning air.

“Alex?” Her voice grew louder.

At the bottom of the dune, she planted her feet firmly on the beach.

“Alex, stop! Get out of the water!” She rushed forward, catching a glimpse of his smiling face. He turned to her, his hair wet, and waved. In front of her, the lake crashed, tumultuous and unpredictable.

“Come on, Mom!” He jumped as the waves hit him in the chest.

Jane tried to run through the thick sand, but its resistance slowed her down. Every time the water splashed above his neck, panic rose up and she called out to him. Every time, he emerged, joy on his face, waving and calling to her.

Farther and farther into the lake he moved, but he still bobbed up for air, smiling and laughing.

“Alex, come back!” As she reached the edge of the water her heart pounded in her chest, and her mind raced. Where had he gone? He’d come up every time. And then he didn’t.

He was gone.

He disappeared, leaving her bewildered, wet and alone on the shore.

“Alex, I’m so sorry.” She fell to her knees.

She’d blamed Meg and God and even Alex all these years, but she knew it was the blame she carried for herself that ate her up inside.

“I’m so sorry.” The sobs overtook her then, pulled up the grief she’d buried, and laid it out in the open where it ached and writhed and tore her apart.

The sun shone in the distance, casting a pink glow through the clouds, and she imagined God had given her a glimpse of what Alex was doing right at that moment. Laughing, splashing, playing.

As the tears fell, she allowed herself to feel the pain she’d pushed away all these years. She didn’t hide from it or mask it with food or pretend to be fine. For once, she felt it, and she acknowledged the anger that taunted. Deep, unabashed sorrow gripped her gut and tied it in a knot.

Collapsed in a heap on the beach, she finally found the courage to say the one thing she hadn’t been able to say since they put her son in the ground six years ago.

“Good-bye, Alex.”

A strong hand wrapped around her shoulder, and she didn’t even have to look up to know Graham had found her. In her time of utter sorrow, he came to her aid, sat down beside her, and held her while she cried.

“It wasn’t your fault, honey,” he said. “You couldn’t have saved him.”

Jane sank into Graham’s arms. She stared out over the water and something inside her shifted. Something had changed. The still water now stretched in front of her, glassy and serene like a painting. Alex forgave her. Graham forgave her. God forgave her.

All that was left was for her to forgive herself.

The morning of the art show, nerves flickered in Campbell’s stomach like jolts of electricity. She sat on the bleachers at the Blossom Fest charity softball tournament, but as much as she wanted to watch Luke play, her mind wandered.

Afterwards, she met up with him near the dugout, praying he didn’t ask her what she thought of the game.

“Thanks for coming.”

She smiled, shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“How about the parade? You still wanna go?” He took his baseball cap off and put it on backwards.

Campbell ran her hand through her hair and forced herself to nod.

He frowned. “You don’t want to go?”

“No, I do, I’m just so nervous about the show tonight.” She’d gotten everything done, but the thought of actually opening the gallery doors made her insides a jumbled mess.

“The parade will be the perfect distraction,” he said. “And the carnival down by the lake. After the show tonight, we might even catch the fireworks.”

She nodded. Judging by the look on his face, though, he didn’t buy it.

The crowd had started to disperse, most of them on foot. A
vendor stood at the corner selling corn on the cob smothered in a buttery concoction.

“No pressure. We can go eat or…” He studied her face. “I can leave you alone?”

She scrunched her face. “I’m sorry. I’m no fun today.”

“I’m just trying to gauge your mood. I haven’t got them all figured out yet.”

Campbell laughed. They walked past a huge float, covered with flowers. “Wow, I haven’t seen a real float in a long time.”

Luke waved to a woman sitting on top of it. “It’s tradition here. You’ll see lots of them. They line up around this block and then the parade goes all the way down Main Street and around. It’s quite a spectacle.”

“So you’re saying I should go?”

“Absolutely.” He took her hand in his and led her through the crowd. As they reached the Main Street Café, he waved to Delcy, who sat next to two empty lawn chairs.

“Guess you were counting on my coming, huh?” Campbell looked up at him.

“Wishful thinking.” He grinned, and they sat down among the employees from the café. The sounds of a marching band warming up carried across the street. Something about the
rat-a-tat
of the snare drum and the cacophony of warm-up scales brought an air of excitement.

Across the street, tourists and locals gathered in lawn chairs and on blankets to watch the parade. Children sat on the curb, buckets in hand, anxious for the candy that would be thrown their way.

A man burst through the door of the tiny tavern on the corner across the street. He stumbled to the ground and struggled to right himself.

“Not again. Looks like Kimball’s up to his old tricks.” An older man sitting behind them stared at the intoxicated man.

Kimball? As in
Jared
Kimball?

“It’s barely two o’clock in the afternoon. Doesn’t he know the streets are filled with children?” the woman next to him responded.

Campbell stared at the man. Unkempt and seemingly disoriented, he fell into the crowd. Another man attempted to help him up, but Jared shoved the guy away. The do-gooder’s hands went up in surrender, and Jared stared at him, pushing into him with his shoulder as he passed.

Campbell watched as Jared Kimball disappeared down the street, and her thoughts turned to the small kids she’d seen at his house. If he
was
her father, perhaps she didn’t want to know.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a teenage girl thrust a flier in her face. “Come out to the Sweethaven Art Gallery tonight,” she said. “The new exhibit opens at seven. It’s called ‘Treasures of Sweethaven.’ ” The girl’s braces caught the sun as she grinned and moved on to the next person.

Campbell glanced down at the flier and saw one of Mom’s paintings beside a photograph she’d taken. “How in the world did Deb get these done so fast?” she wondered aloud.

“Yeah, Luke, how
did
Deb get these done so fast?” Delcy grinned at him, and Luke looked away.

“She might’ve had a little help.” He bumped into Campbell with his shoulder. “They turned out well.”

She stared at him.

“What?” He feigned innocence.

“You did this?”

He shrugged. “I might’ve had something to do with it.”

She studied the flier more closely. All the details were included,
and judging by the design, they’d been done by a professional and printed in full color. She watched as the girl handed one to everyone in the crowd. How much had those fliers cost him?

“Luke, thank you,” she said. “No one’s ever…” She stopped. “Just thanks.”

He stared at her for a long moment. Her stomach flip-flopped as she wondered if he might kiss her right there, but a young guy who worked at the café walked up and punched him in the arm.

Campbell looked away, back toward where Jared Kimball had disappeared into the crowd.

Would she ever find out the truth? Would she ever get the answers she came here for?

She glanced at Luke.

Or had she been drawn to Sweethaven for another reason entirely?

In the back room of the Sweethaven Gallery, Campbell stared at her reflection in a hand-painted mirror. Her sleeveless black dress, cinched at the waist, hung to her knees and showed off her favorite feature—her shoulders. She fixed the clasp of her necklace, which had squirmed around to the front, and ran her hands through her hair.