the doctor tells me I’m doing better than ever.” Then she held up her arm like a weight lifter. “Pumping iron and water aerobics. I’ve lost fat and gained muscle.”
Summer wondered at that, but she couldn’t argue with her grandmother. Before she could pose another question, Martha pulled her along. “I see you’ve met Mack here.” Then Martha stopped in midstride, causing her colorful muumuu to pool around her legs. “Oh, my. That means you know about the house.”
Summer held her grandmother’s arm. “Yes, I had to hear about it from him.” She shot a scowl toward Mack. “Why didn’t y’all let me know?”
Martha shook her head. “It happened kind of fast—”
Summer interrupted her with a loud hiss of breath. “I knew it. Daddy pressured y’all, didn’t he?”
Martha looked confused. “Well, no, not really—”
“Summer, my little pea blossom!”
The loud voice announcing her grandfather caused Summer to whirl around and brace herself for another hug. “Papaw!”
Summer took in the Hawaiian shirt and khaki Bermuda shorts, the stark white socks and strappy leather sandals, just before her grandfather picked her up off her feet and whirled her around.
“It is so good to see you, suga’.”
Her breath cut off, Summer settled back on her feet to look up at her lovable grandfather. “Papaw, what’s going on here?”
He waved a hand in the air. “A luau. You hungry?”
Tears misted in Summer’s eyes. That wasn’t exactly what she’d meant. “Yes, but—”
“Then come on over here and let’s get you a plate. We got grilled pork and chicken, and fruit and vegetables for miles—most from my garden out back—”
“You still have a garden?”
Martha piped up as they escorted Summer toward the curious crowd. “He sure does. Everyone here calls your Papaw the Garden King. He’s in charge of the garden for the whole village. Came in and took over the one they had planted. Made that puny garden spring right to life.”
“That’s nice,” Summer said, raising her eyebrows at Mack Riley’s triumphant I-told-you-so smile. “I’m glad you still have that, at least.”
Her grandmother stopped right before they headed into the throng of vivid floral polyester and orthopedic shoes. “Honey, we’ve got lots to tell you, but that can all wait until later. Right now, I want you to meet some of our friends here at Golden Vista. We just love it here.”
Summer blinked back her tears. “I’m glad, Memaw.”
But she wasn’t so glad. She was fast going into sensory overload, her unresolved resentment at her parents ever-building inside her tired, steamed bones. Since the night she’d broken things off with Brad, she’d longed to be back here in Athens, at home, safe in the house she’d loved all her life, with the grandparents who’d taken her in without questions or judgment and given her unconditional love.
She’d suffered right along with April back in the spring, when April’s father, Stuart Maxwell, had passed away, and Summer was still feeling the effects of that and her ugly breakup with Brad Parker. Uncle Stuart had always been larger than life and so much a part of Summer’s world, that her grief had been overwhelming at times. But, she reminded herself as she took in the colorful decorations and the festive tiki-themed party plates and cups, her cousin April was happy now. Happy in Paris, Texas, near Reed Garrison, the man she’d always loved. They were getting married in September.
Reed, who’d always been the boy next door, would soon be April’s husband. And April would be moving into his house. They had grand plans for the Big M Ranch. They were going to turn it into some sort of vacation resort, because April wanted it to be filled with happy people, and she also wanted to honor her mother by showcasing her artwork there. The Big M certainly would make a lovely, peaceful vacation spot, but even that was changing way too fast for Summer to comprehend.
Summer wanted to be happy for her cousin, but lately, she’d been in a blue fog of regret and resentment, causing even her best intentions to go sour.
Which was why she’d taken this leave of absence to drive home. She’d needed some time to think about her life. In spite of the stress of her job, she didn’t like feeling bitter and resentful all the time. She wanted to be happy again.
But now she had to worry about her grandparents.
And him, of course.
The man who’d stepped in and bought her grandparents’ home right out from under them.
She cast a glance toward Mack Riley, trying to stay unaware of his rugged, craggy good looks and his gentle, smiling gray-blue eyes. But she was very aware, because the man looked at her with all the intensity of a lone wolf out on the prowl. A wounded wolf, she decided.
How she knew this, Summer couldn’t picture. But she could almost see that something inside him that drew her to him. She’d seen that look in enough hurting people in the city. And it reflected that empty, unsettled spot deep inside her own soul.
“So you met Mack?” her grandfather said, echoing her grandmother’s earlier question. “A good man, this one. Salt of the earth.”
“Yes, we met,” Mack said, answering for both of them. “Summer wanted to see you two right away, though.”
“That’s so nice of you, to drive her over here, Mack,” her grandmother said, her smile beaming with maternal pride and matchmaking sparks. “Wasn’t that nice of him, Summer?”
Summer didn’t comment. She couldn’t. She felt a huge suffocating lump in her throat. Mack was right. She didn’t like change. Not at all. And she certainly didn’t like being put on the spot. She was spinning out of control, and she suddenly felt lost and all alone.
This was too much, all at once, out of the blue like this. She wanted to go back, way back, to her childhood. To her room on the second floor of that old house. To frilly pink curtains blowing in the wind, to the fresh smell of line-dried sheets and gardenias from her grandmother’s garden beside the back door, to the secure knowledge that they’d have biscuits and gravy and fried chicken for dinner, and some sort of fresh fruit cobbler for dessert on Sunday, right after church. She wanted to go back to family picnics down by the stream, and her grandparents laughing and each holding one of her hands as they walked down the dirt lane toward the blackberry bushes and the plum trees.
But she couldn’t go back.
Summer looked up as Mack came to stand beside her. “Are you okay with all of this?” he asked, his eyes gentle and seeking.
“Do I look okay?” she managed, her voice grainy and strained, her eyes burning with tears she wouldn’t shed.
“You look just fine. Maybe a bit tired and travel-weary.”
She let out a struggling laugh. “I am that. Travel-weary. Very travel-weary.”
Martha heard her comment. “Well, you’re home now, darling. You’re home and you’re safe.”
