Authors: Susan Lewis
There were parts that she didn’t want to fade, now or ever, but she knew they would and she had to keep reminding herself it was for the best.
“Tell me,” he said as they started along the beach toward the re-creation of Vandalia Park Lighthouse sitting small and proud at the edge of the lake, “have you noticed anything…odd about the people here?”
She frowned thoughtfully. “Odd in what way?” she prompted. “Personally, I’m finding them incredibly friendly. And think of all the baskets of cookies and home-baked pies we’ve found on the porch.”
“Which are playing merry hell with my waistline,” he grumbled.
“I noticed,” she teased, pinching his middle. “So, why do you think they’re odd?”
“I guess I’m not expressing it well, and I certainly don’t mean everyone, but there have been a couple of instances that have been…Well, take when I was at Hammer’s, the repair shop, just now, checking how they’re getting on with fixing your flat. When I mentioned the Jeep Compass belonged to Mrs. Cantrell, this old bloke wheels himself out from under a truck and gives me a very peculiar stare.”
“Did he say anything?”
“Yes, he said, ‘Haven’t heard that name round these parts in a while.’ ”
Justine smiled at his attempt at the local accent. “Did you tell him about Grandma?” she asked.
“Yeah. I explained how she used to have a summer place here, at the lake, so maybe she was the Cantrell he knew. And he said, ‘Are we talking about May Cantrell?’ I said we were, and he said, ‘Yep, I knew her,’ and with that he promptly trolleyed himself back under the truck.”
Frowning, Justine said, “Didn’t you ask any more than that?”
“I couldn’t. He turned up his radio, making it pretty clear he didn’t want to engage. And he’s not the only one. Do you remember the old lady who brought us some leaflets from one of the churches? Did you catch the way she looked at you when you said your name was Cantrell?”
Justine shook her head.
“I admit I could have been imagining things, but it seemed for a minute that she was going to take the leaflets back.”
Justine wasn’t sure whether she wanted to laugh at that or not. “Maybe we look like a pair of heathens,” she suggested. “Remember we’re in the middle of Bible Belt here, and we don’t have many credentials to recommend us on the God front.”
“How could I forget, when there currently seem to be more churches in town than kids?”
Justine couldn’t deny that. In fact she’d been worried, for Lula’s sake, about the lack of children once the summer crowd had departed. However, her mind at been put at rest when she’d discovered that plenty of kids were bused in from neighboring communities to fill the local schools, and there were a dozen or more who lived locally. Lula had already been on playdates with most of them. Her very best friend so far was four-year-old Hazel, daughter of Sallie Jo Osborn, the local Realtor and owner of Café Max. In much the same way as Sallie Jo had taken Justine under her wing, Hazel had taken Lula under hers. Sallie Jo and Hazel had made moving into their new home so easy, and even fun, that Justine had found herself going for whole stretches of time without thinking about the reason why she, Lula, and Rob were there.
Sallie Jo was a special person; there was no doubt about that. She and Justine could easily become friends; in fact, they already were, but they were never going to be close in the way Justine had once been with Cheryl Manning. She’d met Cheryl at uni, had graduated with her, traveled with her, shared secrets, heartaches, and dreams with her, and they’d vowed they’d always follow each other to the ends of the earth.
Cheryl would never come to Culver…
It hurt too much to think about Cheryl, so it was best to make herself stop.
As she and Rob crossed the children’s playground to where he’d left his car, opposite the Culver Coffee Company and Lakeside Grill, she felt a terrible sinking sensation drawing her down and down as though trying to bring her to her knees. Her brother would be leaving in a couple of days, taking the long flight home to his wife and daughter, who’d been without him all summer while he’d come to the States to settle her in. God bless her sister-in-law, Maggie, for not minding about him being away for so long, or understanding it, anyway. Maggie would have come too if she hadn’t already arranged to take Francine to her parents in France. At least Lula wouldn’t have to say goodbye to her cousin and aunt when the time came for Rob to go.
Their journey to the Child Care Ministry, tucked in behind the United Methodist church toward the top end of town, took no more than five minutes, but each one of those minutes for Justine was filled with the dread of her brother’s departure.
It’s not going to be as bad as saying goodbye to Matt,
she reminded herself.
Nothing could ever be as bad as that.
She knew it could, but she wasn’t prepared to go there, not when she was about to collect her precious little live wire of a three-year-old.
A few other parents were arriving in 4x4s and pickups as Rob and Justine pulled alongside the steps leading to the nursery’s front door. They smiled and waved to those they recognized, but didn’t get out of the car until they spotted Tallulah skipping down the steps holding hands with the jolly-faced director, Felicity Rodnam.
“Mummy, we’ve done lots of things today,” Lula cried as Justine scooped her up in a giant hug. “I drew pictures and we played games and we had stories that were really good. Uncle Rob, can we go to Papa’s for pizza, please?”
Taking her gangly little frame into an embrace of his own, Rob said, “I’m sure that can be arranged.”
“Yes!” she shrieked, clutching her arms around him. “Will the naughty birds be there?” she wanted to know, referring to the vultures that regularly perched on the water tower behind the restaurant.
“Oh, I expect so,” he replied, knowing how their gloomy presence and sudden swoops fascinated his niece, as most things did.
Felicity Rodnam’s eyes were shining. “She’s a joy,” she told Justine quietly. “And quite advanced for her age.”
“She’ll be four soon,” Justine reminded her.
Smiling at Lula, Felicity said, “She told us lots about your home in England, so we got out the map for everyone to see where it is in relation to Culver.”
Though Justine felt a moment of unease, she managed a smile. “Did you find it?” she asked.
“Sadly, our atlas isn’t detailed enough to include your actual village, but we worked out that it’s quite close to London?”
Justine shook her head. “Not very,” she whispered, “a hundred or so miles away. But thank you for making her feel special.”
“It wasn’t a problem,” Felicity assured her, looking fondly at Lula. “Will you come again tomorrow?” she invited.
Lula immediately nodded. “Can I, Mummy?” she remembered to ask.
“Of course.”
“Lula, you forgot this,” a little voice announced behind them.
Lula immediately slipped through Rob’s arms to take the drawing a tiny dark-haired girl was holding up.
“Thank you,” Lula said earnestly. “Mummy, it’s a picture of our new house for you to put on the wall.”
“How wonderful,” Justine exclaimed, kind of seeing the likeness.
“I put a dog in the garden, in case you change your mind about us having one.”
Justine’s eyes went to Rob and Felicity.
“Good luck with saying no,” Felicity murmured.
“Do you think we should call her Rosie?” Lula suggested, glancing at Felicity, possibly hoping for support.
Justine’s throat dried as Rob went down to Lula’s height and whispered, “If you do get a new dog, I think she should have a name all of her own, don’t you?”
Lula frowned, then nodded. “Because Rosie is Rosie,” she informed Felicity. “It would just get all mixed up if they were both called the same.”
“That’s my girl,” Rob said, hiking her up into his arms again.
“So everything went well?” Justine said quietly to Felicity as Rob went to settle Lula in the back of the car.
“Indeed,” Felicity confirmed. “She’s a very sociable little girl.”
It was what Justine needed to hear. “Thank you,” she said with a smile.
Felicity was about to turn away when she stopped and said, “Am I right, she’s an only child?”
It was what Justine had written on the registration form, so yes, Lula was an only child, she confirmed.
Whatever Felicity was about to say next was interrupted by a parent needing her attention. Glad to leave them to it, Justine hastened to the car.
“What was that about?” Rob asked as she got in.
Knowing that Lula never missed a word, Justine said, “Mrs. Rodnam was just saying what a very good girl you’ve been today.”
Lula nodded eagerly. “Mummy?” she said as they drove away. “Are there any days when I’m allowed to be naughty?”
Laughing, Justine said, “Not when you’re at day care.”
“No, because then I won’t get any gold stars. I just thought if I forgot sometimes, it might be all right.” After a moment, she said, “Can we ring Daddy when we get home?”
This was the first time she’d asked that question in at least two weeks. Knowing what a fool she was to have thought it wouldn’t be asked again, Justine started to speak but found she couldn’t.
“I thought we were going for pizza,” Rob jumped in. “I think I’ll have a taco fiesta. What about you?”
Immediately there, Lula said, “I’m going to have chicken freddo.”
“Good choice. I bet you don’t manage to eat it all.”
“If I don’t, we can put it in a box to take home. Mummy? There’s a girl at day care called Abby.”
Feeling her head starting to spin, Justine said, “That’s nice.”
“She’s four.”
“You’ll be four soon.”
Lula suddenly yawned and sat back in her seat. “I love Abby,” she whispered. “I’m going to be like her when I grow up.”
Justine felt Rob’s eyes turn to her. Neither of them spoke; there was nothing they could say.
—
It was as easy to get caught up in the energy and magic that was Sallie Jo Osborn as it was to love the perfect ranch-style house she’d found for Justine to rent. It was called Waseya, a Potawatomi name meaning “sunshine and happiness,” which alone might have decided Justine on the place. However, with its pale gray wood exterior, white-framed windows, and huge wraparound porch, it was everything she had hoped for, and in a picture-book setting. It was at the end of a tree-lined track that came off West Shore Drive and circled on round to a scattering of other properties, none large, but all in their own private space. So while Waseya was secluded in the woodlands at the edge of town, it wasn’t isolated, and with its glimpse of the water through an opening in its front hedge that acted as a gate, it seemed almost shyly proud to be where it was.
As Rob drove in through the opening, Justine felt her heart lift to see Sallie Jo waving from the porch steps where she was speaking on the phone while Hazel, with her tumbling dark curls and bright blue eyes, came dashing toward the car to greet Tallulah.
“Hey! I was just leaving you a message,” Sallie Jo called out as Justine climbed from the car. She was tall, curvaceous, and about Justine’s age, though with fewer lines around her eyes and none of Justine’s newly acquired hesitancy. “How are things?” Sallie Jo wanted to know. “We came over to find out how Lula had gotten along at day care. Shame Hazel couldn’t be there for her first day, but I bet she coped just fine anyways.”
“It was really good,” Lula insisted, rushing up to her. “I did lots of things like coloring and counting and answering questions and they said I can go again tomorrow.”
“That’s terrific,” Sallie Jo declared, swooping her up and giving her a kiss. “I knew you’d be a superstar.”
Lula beamed, but quickly wriggled to get down, as she and Hazel had frames to climb, slides to swish down, and secrets to share.
“And how did Mommy cope?” Sallie Jo teased, treating Justine to an affectionate hug. With her glorious sweep of raven hair, merry brown eyes, and ready smile, the warmth of her personality had made her widely popular in the town.
“Mommy did OK,” Justine answered wryly.
“Hey, Sallie Jo,” Rob greeted her, coming from the car with the groceries they’d just picked up from the Park ’n’ Shop. “We’re going to Papa’s for pizza in a while, if you and Hazel feel like joining us.”
Sallie Jo threw out her hands in dismay. “Any other time you could count me in,” she replied, “but I’m short-staffed at the café tonight. I think I know someone who’d jump at it, though.” She turned to where Hazel and Lula were quietly watching a mother deer with its fawn at the edge of the woods. Though this wasn’t a rare sight, it was always entrancing, especially for Lula, who adored all animals.
“We’d love her to come,” Justine assured her. “She can stay over if you like and I’ll take her to nursery in the morning.”
“You, my friend, are a lifesaver,” Sallie Jo informed her. “I’m due to show a house on Pearl at eight-thirty, so that would work out perfectly.”
“Great, that’s settled then. Are you coming in for a cuppa?”
Sallie Jo checked her watch. “I guess I ought to go home and pick up some things for Hazel.” Her eyes went back to Justine’s. “Oh, to hell with it,” she laughed. “Sure, I’ll make time for a cuppa.”
“We’ve still got a mountain of cookies and coffee cake to get through,” Rob warned, “and no one escapes here without doing their bit to help out.”
“Believe me, I’m always up for a slice of Dorry Mitzell’s coffee cake,” Sallie Jo assured him. “Please tell me there’s some left.”
“If there is, it’ll be a miracle,” Justine informed her, tossing a dry look her brother’s way.
“Hey, can I help it if Dorry’s cake is as irresistible as yours?” he protested, pushing open the door.
“You bake?” Sallie Jo said to Justine in surprise.
“No, no,” Justine replied, flipping it away. “He makes this stuff up.” Following him across the porch, where a swing seat, two rockers, a stainless steel grill, and various tools and toys were providing a haphazard sort of welcome, she held the door for Sallie Jo to step inside first.
The entryway led straight into the open-plan kitchen and sitting room, which composed the entire single-story front of the house. Large French doors opened on to the porch, while a woodstove dominated the sitting room’s end wall and a huge picture window with twin farmhouse sinks and gadget-covered countertops did the same for the kitchen. The furniture had a rustic charm, with three sumptuous, though not new, brown leather sofas grouped around a coffee table in front of the hearth, and a sturdy square table in the kitchen covered by a red and blue checked cloth.