Sweet Tea and Secrets (4 page)

Memories weighed heavy on her heart and the gas pedal, too. She made the nearly six-hour drive from Savannah to Adams Grove in just over five. Bradley called several times, but she ignored each of his calls. Finally, she turned off the phone. She’d deal with him later.

At exactly three-thirty in the morning, Jill took the exit off I-95 and turned down Main Street. The switch from interstate to twenty-five mph felt like a crawl. Usually, she took the back way home, but tonight she needed to feel close to Adams Grove.

Someone had finally persuaded the town council to approve the purchase of pole banners to display down Main Street. The bannerscape of teal flags touted the town’s pride in its history.

Nice.

Floral & Hardy, the flower shop Teddy Hardy had opened right out of high school, had twinkle lights in the window. In the morning, she’d call Teddy and get him to make something special for Pearl.

Daisies for sure. Every type and color.

Jill’s eyes misted.

The old pharmacy had a new sign. Sadly, Parker’s Family Pharmacy was now a national chain.

Nightlights shone through the upstairs apartment windows over several storefronts. Those residents gave Main Street life, even though the businesses all flipped their signs from open to closed by six o’clock each evening, and stayed closed on Sundays.

Just past the last shop, the street lights ended and the road became inky black.

Jill’s blinker counted off the seconds to the lane that led to the house she’d grown up in. The tall pines were a welcome sight. Dirt kicked up behind the car into a rooster tail that glowed hazy red in her brake lights.

Tree branches hung across the path like a tunnel. Halfway to the house she slowed to a stop, put the car in park, and lowered the windows. The humid night air rushed in. In a matter of seconds, her skin became sticky. The melodic hum from the wood’s creatures filled the night. Closing her eyes, she lost herself in the deafening country quiet. The air-conditioner dried her tears as quickly as they fell.

Unable to put it off any longer, she drove the rest of the way to the house. Apart from the boarded up window next to the front door, it looked like home. The flowerbeds had Pearl’s special touch. No color theme, but rather a splash of every color imaginable. Pearl was known for spending days on end planting to achieve just the right level of chaos, and somehow the crazy mix of colors always ended up blending into something beautiful.

Jill stepped on the long country porch and reached for the hide-a-key from the window box of geraniums that hung from the rail. The key was right where it had always been. She let herself in, set her bag down just inside, then flipped on the lights.

“My God.” Jill took two steps back as if the mess might jump up and tug her into the disorder. Garrett was right. Someone had had a field day tossing the place. A tumble of confusing thoughts assailed her and she wasn’t sure which would win out. The sadness of her loss, or the anger that someone had invaded her childhood home.

Jill stepped over the strewn items, checking each room. Books littered the floor, pictures hung crooked on the walls and plants had been knocked from their stands.

She was tempted to begin the daunting task of righting things but there’d be time for that tomorrow.

Exhausted, she went to Pearl’s bedroom. What used to be the contents of the tallboy dresser covered the floor. She bent down to lift a stack of still neatly folded housecoats. Pearl’s uniform. Jill laid the stack on the bed and smoothed the fabric with her hand.

A blue and white housecoat still hung from the bedpost. Jill held it to her face and inhaled the scent of coffee and spice. The wash-worn material was feathery soft, the tiny pearl snaps cool against her cheek. The sensations reminded her of carefree days under Pearl’s watchful eye.

Always safe.

Jill slipped out of her clothes and into the blue and white housecoat, then curled up with the stack of housecoats in the center of the bed. Too tired to climb beneath the bedcovers, she hugged the housecoats and squeezed her eyes tight. Her eyes burned and her nose tingled as memories flooded her heart and mind.

In one blurred moment she was seven years old, balancing on a wobbly stool in front of the kitchen counter, learning to make her first pie crust next to Pearl. She’d felt so grown up pushing the pastry cutter through the dough and stretching it out to size with the rolling pin. Despite the flour that covered her head to toe, that crust had turned out golden, light and crispy. She’d earned the right to the family’s secret recipe that afternoon.

She drifted asleep in a puddle of tears.

***

A loud rumble jarred Jill from sleep. She squinted against the morning sun that streaked across her face like a laser.

“What the…” Jill kicked out from the pile of housecoats and stumbled to the window. One tug sent the old shade whirling to the top of the window frame. With her hands pressed to the warm glass, she looked for the source of the interruption.

The roar assaulted her ears, but the sight of the man pushing a lawnmower pounded her gut like a sucker punch. Low-slung denim hugged a pair of trim hips. He moved away from her at a steady gait, sending grass spitting to the right in a trail of fresh clippings. Broad tan shoulders had found a maturity she hadn’t noticed before, but there was no mistaking—the man was Garrett.

Jill moaned and yanked the shade down to the sill. She turned her back on the window and scanned her grandmother’s bedroom for a clock. Of course, there wasn’t one. Pearl had always run on her own schedule. That had been one of the biggest adjustments for Jill when she’d left Adams Grove. Bradley was almost OCD about schedule, and she’d learned to follow suit.

She stuffed her feet into Pearl’s raggedy pink slippers and stomped out to the living room to check the time on her cell phone.

“Seven-thirty?” She activated the sound from where she’d muted it last night, then considered her options. Plan A, ignore him, or Plan B, go out and give Garrett Malloy a piece of her mind.

He knows I’m here. Who else would park a car with a Georgia plate in front of this house?

She rubbed the sleep out of the corners of her eyes, scrubbed her fingers through her hair and stormed out onto the front porch.

The screen door slammed behind her, but Garrett didn’t flinch.

She crossed her arms and rocked her weight to one hip, waiting and getting angrier by the second. Her mouth twitched with each stride he took.

When he finally spun the mower around, he spotted her and waved.

“Mornin’,” he shouted, lifting his chin in her direction.

“What is wrong with you?” She marched toward him.

He let go of the lever on the mower. The motor choked to a stop. “Couldn’t hear you over the mower. Good morning,” he said with an easy smile. “How are you holding up?”

She gritted her teeth. Where did he get off being so chipper at the crack of dawn? And what possessed him to do it in her front yard? Okay, technically, it was Pearl’s yard, but it would be hers. She was the only heir left in the family.

“I’m not, and you being here isn’t helping. What do you think you’re doing?”

“Mowing the lawn,” he answered in a sarcastic tone.

“Real funny.” She set her chin in a stubborn line. “I can see you’re mowing the lawn. I’m not an idiot. I just don’t know why you are mowing
this
lawn
this
morning?”

“I mow
this lawn
every Friday.”

“No one asked you to do that,” Jill said.

“Pearl didn’t have to ask. I offered. I’d do a few chores for her, and she’d cook supper for me in return. I called it even. Pearl called it Friday date night.”

“Bet that cramped your style.”

“Not at all. I liked helping Pearl, and
she
enjoyed my company.” His voice softened. “I’ll miss that.”

He knew exactly how to get under her skin. That’s why she’d made all her visits to see Pearl quick one-nighters—so she could avoid him.

“We’ll all miss her.” She strode toward the porch, but he was right on her heels. “Well, there are no free meals here anymore, and I’m not your Friday night date.”

“Look. I’m just trying to help here. Can we call a truce? If not for us, then for Pearl?” He stepped in closer. “I’ll miss her, too, you know.”

“I know,” she whispered. There it was again. The crushing black pain made it nearly impossible to breathe or swallow. Losing Pearl seemed worse than losing her parents, but then she’d been so young when they’d died, and they’d spent so much time away. This was different. She kicked her toe in and out of the pink slipper, wishing she could disappear, or revert to Plan A.

“Come on, Jill.”

She closed her eyes and cocked her head to one side. It was just like him to play the Pearl card. He knew her too well.

“I’m sorry.” Garrett touched her sleeve. “It’s good to see you. It’s been a while. You look...good.”

She flinched at his touch. “Oh yeah, right. In Pearl’s housecoat? I’m a regular hotty.”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

“Stop it.” She huffed and rolled her eyes, avoiding his. “Quit acting like nothing ever happened.”

“Can’t help it. How about one of those sweet treats?” Garrett raised his eyebrows in a flirty way.

“Excuse me?” Jill took a step back, eager to put a little space between them.

“I bet you have a coffee candy in the pocket there.” He pointed to the blue smock with a knowing look.

She dug into the deep pocket. Sure enough, there were two pieces. She extended her open hand toward him. “And just how often were you visiting Pearl in her housecoat while I’ve been away?”

He waved his hands in denial. “Oh no. I never wore any of those housecoats.”

“Real funny. You know what I meant. Wait, maybe I don’t want to know.”

“Often enough.” He snagged one of the coffee drops from her outstretched hand and untwisted the wrapper. “I know a good thing when I see it.” He popped the candy in his mouth.

“Really?”

“I picked you, didn’t I?” He moved to the first step, face-to-face with her as she stood two higher on the porch.

“You threw me away,” she reminded him, drawing in a deep breath.

“No. You were the one that walked,” he said.

She glared at him. “That’s not exactly how it was.”

“However it happened, it’s in the past. Let’s leave it there,” he muttered, shoving the candy wrapper in his pocket. “How’ve you been?”

“Great.” She straightened.
Don’t let him fluster you.
“Perfect, in fact.”

“So the job is all you thought it would be?”

She eyed him curiously. “It’s a great cause and we’ve been extremely successful in raising funds to expand the program.”

He looked skeptical. “Sounds like a company line.”

“Whatever. You don’t care.”

“I care about you.” He shrugged. “But I guess you’re happy with the choices you made.”

“So it seems. How are you?”

“I’m good. Not as good as you, but good.” Garrett pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed her a business card.

She read it aloud. “Malloy Country Design and Builders. Make Your Dream Come True.” She traced her thumb across the raised letters. Her eyes met his. “You made it happen,” she said.
Without me.
“Pearl didn’t tell me.”

“Just like we’d planned. You and me.” His eyes locked on hers. “Dad stepped down over the holidays.”

It was the first thing she’d noticed about the card. No more Malloy & Sons, like Garrett had waited for, counted on. She’d thought Mr. Malloy would insist on that partnership until the day he died.

Nervous excitement rushed through her, or maybe it was jealousy. It wasn’t
just
like they’d planned. They’d planned a whole future together. They’d had so many dreams. All of them built around sustaining the lifestyle and agriculture of their small town, and being a couple.

“It’s been hard work.”

“Anything worth doing is,” Jill said with quiet emphasis.

“You sound just like Pearl.”