and flowering vines. It is. Here’s the entry.”
There was no gate, only an opening marked by stone urns, both stained by rust from the irrigation water. The flagstone walk bore similar stains and wound into another world.
Jay’s world.
“Ohmigosh.” Susanna whispered reverently into the quiet morning. “This must be the backyard. There’s a huge lawn with those big oak trees you see in movies. Generations old like the arbors. Jay told me his great-grandmother planted them.”
“See the house yet?”
“House doesn’t even begin to describe it, Karan. Seriously. Can you say ‘antebellum plantation’?”
“Tara?”
“Actually, no.” Susanna laughed. “Except for the ambience of another era. The house isn’t even white. Just the eaves.”
Those eaves towered above two floors with massive white columns that outlined a wraparound gallery. The house had been constructed of blond brick, and the walls contrasted with the black shutters that framed every floor-to-ceiling window. And there were a lot more windows than the three that graced the porch of her cottage.
She couldn’t even begin to fathom what might drive someone away from The Arbors, and she knew the curiosity might kill her.
“You know, Karan, my cottage is very similar in design. I’ll bet that was intentional. A miniplantation.”
“Brooke should like that. She’s always loved dollhouses.”
As Karan would know since she’d indulged that particular fancy since Brooke was old enough to be trusted not to gnaw on the tiny furnishings of the ridiculously expensive dollhouses Karan gifted her with.
“Fingers crossed. I really want the kids to consider wherever I live as home base. At least until they settle down.”
“As long as you’re there it will be home base.”
Susanna appreciated the reassurance. The most important thing was being together. “I think I can see the driveway. I’ll bet if I took a left at the fork instead of the right that brings me to the cottage, I’d wind up here.”
“I can’t believe this is the first time you’re seeing the house. With as much as you say ‘Jay this’ and ‘Jay that,’ I can’t believe he hasn’t invited you over for a Bundt cake or pecan divinity or whatever Southerners do to welcome neighbors.”
“It’s not like that, Karan. I told you. But I’m really dying to know what could possibly possess him to sell this place. It’s a total mystery.”
“Ask him.”
“I can’t ask him something personal like that.”
“Why not? Seems a logical question to me given the fact you’re taking over his job.”
“Because I can’t.”
There was a beat of silence on the other end before Karan said, “You’re working awfully hard to delineate boundaries between professional and personal. What’s up with that?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Susanna only knew she’d better get a move on. She didn’t want to get caught gawking at Jay’s house like a tourist.
“I’m talking about how many times you’ve mentioned getting personal with this man. I hear it every time we talk. You’re curious about him, Suze.”
“Of course I’m curious. Why doesn’t he simply parcel off the land, sell The Arbors and keep his family home?”
“Why don’t you ask him? Oh, wait. That’s personal. Are you interested in Jay? I mean interested, interested.”
“Stop it. That isn’t funny.” Neither was the heat rushing into her cheeks at the mere mention of being interested in Jay. “I’ll have a hand in deciding the fate of the man’s house.” And wherever Jay was headed must be incredible considering what he’d be leaving behind. “That’s all, Karan.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“I can’t even believe you. Some best friend.”
“What can’t you believe—that I know you so well? What kind of best friend would I be if I let you lie to yourself?”
Susanna slowed the golf cart to a stop, pulled the phone away from her ear and scowled at it, a thrill of annoyance overshadowing the excitement of a moment ago. “That’s unfair.”
“Are you sure?”
Susanna didn’t answer because that simple question had a complicated answer. Karan wasn’t entirely wrong. Susanna couldn’t think about being interested in another man, not Jay or anyone. The very thought made her uncomfortable deep inside, not so much guilty as...unable.
She hadn’t realized until this very moment.
“I’m broken,” she admitted.
“No, my dear sweet friend,” Karan said in a thoughtful tone. “You’re just making peace with the hand life dealt you. You and Skip had big plans, and things didn’t turn out as you expected. You need a new plan.”
“Is that what’s happening?”
“I think so. You were with Skip for your entire adult life. Now he’s gone. It’s got to be easier to shut down a part of yourself than it is to open up and take chances on living a life you didn’t imagine.”
Susanna let the idea filter through her, stared down the path beneath the arbors in the paling dawn, vines winding through trellises and archways so twisted it would be difficult to follow any one to the root. Impossible to separate.
She and Skip had been like that. Their lives entwined into one, so now she couldn’t find her own roots, didn’t think she’d ever bloom again.
“I’m broken. If I wasn’t, I’d be able to figure out how to move on, because I know better than to waste a second when none of us have any idea what the future holds.”
“True, true,” Karan said. “But you’re not wrong to feel the way you do, Suze. You know, but you’re human.”
“I have everything in the world to be grateful for. I shouldn’t be stuck—”
“You are grateful. You’re the most grateful person I know. You don’t waste a second with your kids or me or anyone you love. I’m just saying that you need to branch out. Before you’re old and gray and no man would ever want you.”
“Karan.” But Susanna found herself smiling.
“There’s nothing wrong with being interested in Jay.”
“This isn’t about Jay. It’s about me.”
But Karan laughed a knowing laugh. And kept laughing until Susanna hit the gas and took off, obligated to drown out the laughter with some very rational arguments.
“He’s
