IN FOR A PENNY (The Granny Series) (8 page)

“You don’t do drugs, do you?” Maggie asked.

“Very rarely,” Sera said. “I try to find natural ways to heal my body.”

“What does that mean?” Maggie asked. “Yes, you do drugs or no, you don’t. Which is it?”

Lillian knew that hands-on-the-hips stance of Maggie’s and quickly tugged her to the side. “Maggie, let’s chat for a minute.”

Once they were out of earshot, Maggie jerked her arm away from Lil’s hold. “What in
hell’s bells are you thinking? Not only does she have one of those Legalize Mary Jane stickers, there’s another one that says Free Love.”

“We need more help around here.”
Honey, you are going to be so glad you have the extra help. Believe me.

“So hire someone. You can’t seriously be considering letting her stay.”

“Well, I am.”

“But…but she’s a walking, talking California cliché.”

Lillian leaned around Maggie and smiled and waved. “What could it hurt to let her park here and help out for a few days?” She could almost picture the growing list of to-dos shrinking with the extra help. Her days were slipping away and there was still so much to do, especially now with that August inspection looming. Under normal circumstances, she would figure out a way around Angelina’s little scheme, but she was running out of time. Turning away Sera would be like looking a gift horse in the mouth. Downright stupid. “Besides, if she were into anything illegal, Teague would’ve taken care of it.”

“She was boondocking, wasn’t she?”

“Really, Maggie? That’s the best you’ve got?”

“Well, then, what kind of name is Serendipity? She’s a
dippity-do if you ask me.”

Think, Lil, think.
How to change Maggie’s mind?

“I bet she could whip through those bags of scratchers in record time.” Lillian leaned closer to Maggie, dangled the biggest worm in her almost empty tackle box. “Maybe she could even help you paint the carriage house.”

“Lil? Really? You’re going to let me paint the carriage house?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Maggie rushed back to Sera and Teague. “Serendipity, welcome to Summer Haven!”

Chapter Eight

In one week with Sera’s help, Lillian was able to mark off several more items from the
to-do list. Teague’s request to let Sera park here for a few days had been a heavenly gift. Plus, Maggie was so happy to be fussing around with the gosh darn carriage house, and she’d made a huge dent in those lottery ticket bags. There was actually a path through the middle of that space now. She didn’t have the heart to tell Maggie it was all for nothing.

She tucked the remainder of her cash in an envelope with instructions,
slipped it into the front of the notebook and put it back in the drawer. She stood and pushed the chair back under the desk, then went into the parlor to peer out the front window.

Lillian watched the children bring Summer Haven’s front lawn to life. It was like this all summer, every summer. The kids chased each other around the gazebo, turning cartwheels in the grass and sprawling under the trees that had sheltered generations of
Summers.

At one time, Lillian had dreamed her own children would build forts and play hide-and-seek on this land. Without her conscious thought, her hand went to her abdomen.
Silly old woman.
That place was as empty as the offering plate after it passed by Deacon Jones.

Lillian smoothed her hands down the seams of her summer-weight skirt. The peach suit had been a favorite of Momma’s. Lillian had kept it all these years, and wearing it today felt both right and so terribly wrong.

She caught sight of Maggie hefting a piece of plywood painted as a backdrop for the play the local children staged in Summer Haven’s gazebo every July Fourth. That woman was in hog heaven hammering together the sets and making props. At least Lillian didn’t have to feel completely guilty she’d begged her to move to Summer Shoals. Maggie was happy here.

At least she would be for another five minutes before Lillian walked out there, took her aside and dumped a whole load of poop in her lap.

But Maggie was strong, hardy stock. If anyone could scoop poop and get on with things, it was her.

A flash of tanned leg streaked by with half a dozen kids trotting along behind. That Serendipity was a piece of work. She’d certainly made herself at home after parking that eyesore of a van down the hill near the creek running across the property. Maggie had tried to talk her into sleeping in the house, but Sera had insisted she had everything she needed.

What kind of fifty-something woman dressed in cut-off shorts and ran around barefoot?

Sera wasn’t
the kind of companion Lillian might’ve chosen for Maggie, but by the way the girls wore little floral wreaths in their hair, she was obviously good with children. She was pretty good with handiwork too. What she lacked in skill she made up with enthusiasm, and Maggie seemed to enjoy showing her the ropes. At least Maggie wouldn’t be rattling around on this big old estate by herself.

The grandfather clock in the foyer bonged one o’clock. Lillian couldn’t put this off any longer. She double-checked her handbag.
Lipstick, tissue and wintergreen mints. Those three essentials and a woman could face anything.

When she walked outside, the noise level was a lovely buzz of high-pitched squeals, parental warnings and laughter.
This. This was why Summer Haven had to be tended to. It wasn’t just the Summer family’s home. It was whole town’s home. People treated Summer Haven’s front lawn as their own and the gazebo as a sort of community center.
Daddy would love this.

Lillian stood on the porch and soaked it all in one last time.

Maggie hustled toward the house, her hair a mess of sweaty curls and her cheeks the color of that godawful shirt appliquéd with sheep. “Have you seen that case of duct tape I bought from the hardware store?” Then her brow lowered as she took in Lillian’s trim suit and heels. “Where are you going? Aren’t you going to watch the kids practice the play?”

“The tape is in the bottom of the china cabinet in the parlor. I have an errand to run in the city, so I won’t be able to stay for the performance today.” She took a breath, tried to fill her insides with courage. “But while I’ve got you here, I need to talk to you about—”

“Lil, can it wait until later? I just realized we don’t have a rhinoceros costume, but I can make one in a jiffy if I can find that darn tape.”

“Sure. We have all the time in the world.” What a whopper of a lie.

Thank goodness Maggie had already rushed into the house. Otherwise, she might’ve seen the tears Lillian blinked back. But now, without her good-bye explanation, the binder she’d left Maggie would be more confusing than enlightening. Lillian rushed around to the back of the house and slipped inside through the veranda door. She ducked into her bedroom, pulled out another sheet of stationery and tried to find the right words to give Maggie strength and help her understand.

By the time Lillian was finished with the note, she was running late for her appointment, which meant there was no time to stop by the pawnshop today. She’d have to figure out something between now and next week or her
ring would be gone. But she just couldn’t lay that at Maggie’s doorstep today. Lillian pulled the pawn ticket out of her purse and tucked it back between the books on the desk. She blew out a breath, but her chest didn’t lighten.

In the garage, the blue Torpedo
was fueled up and ready to go. Lillian got behind the wheel and navigated the curved drive, keeping her speed to a crawl and waving at the children like the homecoming queen she’d once been. When she passed the Summer Shoals city limit sign, population 8,324, Lillian didn’t allow herself even one glance back.

Chapter Nine

The first hour of the drive, Lillian’s hip complained. But now, as every mile brought her closer to her final destination, her body had become one big numb lump. How would Maggie react when she found the note Lillian had left? It took a lot to get Maggie riled, but once her hackles were up, she was like a badger, not letting it go until she was
good and ready.

Lillian glanced out her window. What had begun as a day of blue sky frosted with clouds was now a gray swirl. God had a way of painting the right backdrop for every occasion and today was no exception.

She exited the interstate and followed the directions she’d been given. Of course, she was required to stop before entering the parking lot. She rolled down her window and tried to smile at the young man in the booth.

“Name, ma’am?”

“Lillian Fairview Summers.”

“And who are you here to visit?”

Wasn’t he sweet? “I’m not visiting. I’m…checking in.”

He looked up from his clipboard and studied her intently. “What is this world coming to?” He said the words under his breath, but there was nothing wrong with Lillian’s hearing. Tipping his clipboard at the Torpedo, he said, “I don’t think you’re going to want to leave a car like that just sitting in the lot.”

“Someone will pick it up later.”

“Be sure to have them added to the visitor list.”

Like she had any idea how to do that. But she would soon. “Absolutely.”

The young man handed her a sheet of paper to place between her dash and front window, and Lillian headed into the parking lot.

The gates slid closed in her rearview mirror.

She parked and sat staring at the flat-roofed white building in front of her. It stretched the length of the lot, and although it looked freshly painted, no shrubs or flowers softened the austere façade. Maybe there was a courtyard on the other side. That would be nice.

Lillian closed her eyes. She breathed in the scent of the vanilla air freshener she’d stuck in the vent to chase off that musty smell that invaded the old car. She ran her hand across the front seat. The smoothly worn upholstery was a reminder of simpler, happier days. Days when Daddy would drive her into town for a lollipop or a soda.

She tried to relax her tense muscles. Too bad she hadn’t asked Sera to teach her some easier
yoga moves. Right about now, she could use some of that calm Sera was always bragging about. Well, just thinking about it wasn’t going to get the job done. And procrastination was never polite. Lillian snatched up her purse and jumped out before she could change her mind and speed home to hide in Summer Haven’s bomb shelter.

She pressed a kiss to the Torpedo’s key, leaving a pink stain on the metal. She laid it on top of the front tire, like she’d told Maggie in her good-bye note.

With a tug on her suit jacket, she lifted her chin and marched toward the building where she would receive her just rewards.

Last night, Maggie had been so darn exhausted after
wrangling the kids and their parents that she’d dragged her rear-end straight to bed without eating supper or saying boo to Lillian.

As she wandered into the kitchen for her morning bowl of rice cereal, it occurred to her that she’d never even noticed when Lil returned from Atlanta. But her bedroom door
had been closed yesterday evening, and now, after nine o’clock, it was still closed. Strange since Lil was normally up with the birds.

Something had been weighing on her friend’s mind, probably the last of those scratcher tickets. The bags were finally starting to dwindle. Five more and Maggie could start work on the carriage house. Just the thought made her insides dance.

Unfortunately, all those bags had yielded less than a hundred bucks since three of the winning tickets were for games that had already ended.

The money wasn’t much, but those winning tickets paid for the paint needed for the play backdrops, which the
Summer family sponsored every year. Maggie knew that Lillian had hoped for a windfall from those tickets, and even eighty dollars had been enough to keep them from abandoning the possibility of finding more hidden cash among the losers. She prayed like heck they’d get lucky soon.

Then again, maybe just
being done with it was luck enough.

Maggie was proud of the contribution she’d made to the play. Creating the backdrops had given her a chance to use her tools and get creative too. Maybe next year, she’d talk her daughter, Pam, into letting little Clint and Chloe come to Summer Haven for a couple of weeks before July Fourth so they could participate in all the festivities. God knew, little Miss Chloe would eat up the stage like a spoonful of honey. And the thought of having her grandkids around here put a big smile on Maggie’s face. Without the responsibility of the hardware store, grandma time would be even more fun.

She rose from the table and washed out her bowl. She had a little time this morning to work on those trash bags of lottery tickets, but if she had help it would go even faster.

Time to give Sera another project.

Sure,
Sera’d entertained the children during play practice, but Maggie still wasn’t sold on Lil’s decision to let her stay at Summer Haven. And rather than setting up camp close to the house, Sera had insisted on parking her van down by the creek at the back of the property. Who voluntarily went without indoor plumbing?

Woman was a lug nut shy of a hubcap.

Regardless, the more she helped with the scratch-offs, the closer Maggie came to moving into the carriage house. Reason enough to be friendly.

Rooting around in the pantry, she pulled out a box of bran cereal with raisins and tucked it under her arm. Then she poured milk in a plastic container. No telling if Sera had anything fresh in her camper. By the time she made it across the back lawn, up a little rise and down the hill that tumbled into the creek, she was puffing like the little engine that couldn’t. She tried to moderate her breathing, but her chest was still rising and falling too rapidly by the time she made it to the front of Sera’s VW.

“Sera,” she called. “I brought you a little breakfast.”

There was no answer, so Maggie poked her head around the camper. Sera had the van door pulled back and a cute little camp set up under a tarp. Maggie couldn’t help but reach out and shake the nearest pole.
Surprisingly sturdy.

Okay, maybe she isn’t as dippy as I thought.

A splash came from the direction of the creek. Maggie turned to see Sera wade out of the water, naked as the day her momma’d given her breath.

Lord, Jesus!
Something hot and tight lodged in Maggie’s chest.

Surprise?
Embarrassment? No, that was pure-D jealousy.

The woman’s skin was the same lovely golden color all over. Her long wet hair streamed over her shoulders.

Lordy goodness, was that a belly button ring? Tattoos, a belly ring and naked as a jaybird. Why couldn’t Maggie have aged that well? Sera’s hips were a little wider than they’d looked in those stretchy pants yesterday, and if Maggie squinted hard enough, she was pretty sure she spotted a patch of cellulite right there on Sera’s thigh. But a woman Sera’s age with breasts that perky? God just wasn’t fair.

Then again, if Maggie looked like that, she might just go skinny-dipping, or for that matter, parade through Walmart without a stitch on.

“Hey there, Maggie.” Completely unselfconscious, Sera smiled and pulled a towel from her clothesline. Rather than wrapping it around her body, she dried her face and twisted it turban-style around her head.

Maggie tried not to gawk, she really did, but not only did Sera have that cute little swirly tattoo around her ankle, she also had an intricately inked angel on her right shoulder blade. “That’s so pretty.”

Sera glanced over her shoulder, but her sunny expression dimmed a little. “Different times.”

Finally, she stepped into some flowing pants and a tank top. No bra. Okay, Maggie might as well suck that one up because it didn’t matter how much weight she lost, she was never going to be able to walk around without strapping those puppies up as tight as she could. “I brought you breakfast.”

“How nice.” Then Sera saw what was in Maggie’s hand. “Oh, I’m sorry, but I don’t eat processed foods.”

“But it’s bran cereal.” Didn’t Sera know a peace offering—or a bribe—when she saw one?

“Have you really looked at those raisins? They’re coated with sugar.”

No, she hadn’t because she wasn’t much of a fruit eater. “Suit yourself.”

“I have a nice quinoa I put in the cold box last night. I glaze it with a little local honey and some flaxseed. Would you like some?”

Here it was, her chance to
turn over a new leaf. Maybe this would be the path to her own remodel, and Lord, if she could look good enough to go skinny-dipping in the creek, it would be worth it. “Sure.”

Sera served up two bamboo bowls of a lump of brownish grain with a stingy amount of honey and sprinkled on top what looked like fleas.

Maggie took a cautious bite. Not horrible. Not an ice cream sundae, but she could swallow it.

“I have a favor to ask,” Maggie said between bites. “Think you’d be up to helping me sort through a few bags of scratch-off lottery tickets?”

“Like grocery bags?”

“Think a little bigger.”
A
lot
bigger.

“No problem.”

When they headed up toward the house fifteen minutes later, Lil was still nowhere to be found. Maggie’s chest tightened and her breath shallowed as she rushed to the detached garage and threw open the side door. The Torpedo was gone. Oh, Lord have mercy, what if Lil hadn’t come home at all yesterday?

Maggie patted the pockets of her carpenter pants looking for that fancy little phone her son had bought her for Mother’s Day. Heck if she knew how to use half the functions. The thing could probably build a house by itself if she just knew which buttons to use. She punched the one programmed to call Lil’s phone, held it to her ear and weaved through the house. She knocked on Lil’s bedroom door, but didn’t wait for an answer when she heard “
Für Elise” playing from the other side.

Lil’s bed
was made, the corners precise and the pillows fluffed. Maggie’s insides contracted even more. Something had happened to her in the city. That was the only explanation. And Lillian couldn’t even call for help because her cell phone was sitting on her nightstand.

As Maggie reached for the other phone to call the sheriff, she noticed a piece of Lil’s
monogrammed stationary propped directly in the center of a pillow.

Dearest Margaret,

Lil’s use of my given name is never good news.

First, I want to tell you how sorry I am. I wanted to tell you. I tried, but then time got away from me. Now it’s your birthday. Happy Birthday, my dearest friend.

She’s dying. Lil has cancer and has checked herself into hospice care
. Maggie held her hand to her heart and drew in a breath.

I’ve done something I simply can’t undo and you’re the only person in this world I trust to keep my secret and take care of my home. If I were a stronger woman, I would have told you weeks ago.

I left you a binder in my desk drawer, along with a few hundred dollars. I know it’s not enough to maintain Summer Haven fully, but only take care of what absolutely cannot be avoided. The taxes are paid up, and so is the insurance, and I’ve left enough money in the estate account to cover the bare essentials, but whatever you do, you are not to use any of your own money to maintain the estate. In its current condition, Summer Haven should pass Angelina’s trumped-up inspection.

Maggie wasn’t as confident of Summer Haven’s condition as Lillian. She’d seen the water damage and structural concerns that maybe the average onlooker wouldn’t notice. Hopefully, Angelina and her posse wouldn’t be well-versed enough to notice either. She scanned the note again.

Where in the world is Lil’s money? The
Summer family came from money so old, rumor was Abraham had opened the family’s first checking account. Had Harlan squandered all the Summer family money?

I know you’ll be busy with the July Fourth celebration for the next few days, but afterward I would like to ask you one more favor. Please pick up Daddy’s Torpedo. I’ve left the key on top of the front tire. It’s in the parking lot at 5400 Ellington Boulevard, Salisbury, Georgia, as soon as you get a chance and then store it in the garage.

Maggie, I know right now you’re confused. You may even find yourself hurt and angry eventually, but please know I did what I thought was best for everyone involved. There’s no one in the world I trust more than you.