the painful reminder.
“Sue. Stop.” Daniel forked a piece of beef and ladled more vegetables on top of a slice of bread.
“Oh, sure. Let’s not talk about the fact that she walked out on all of us. Couldn’t take farming. Hah. Couldn’t take us!”
“Enough, Sue.” Daniel’s glass banged on the table as he recalled the painful summer he’d lost his mother and Jodi. When his father looked up, Daniel smiled for his confused-looking dad’s benefit. “Got the fly! Hey. What’s for dessert?”
“Strawberries and pound cake.” Sue crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, her eyes on Daniel. “Heard Jodi Chapman’s in town.”
“Jodi Chapman?” His father sat up straighter, his eyes sparkling. “No one said she was home. Now, that’s a sweet girl. Remember how hard she worked in the barns after her father’s accident? A spirited little thing. Is she visiting soon?”
His pulse sped. “Not a chance, Pop.”
Sue sent him a warning look.
“I mean, I don’t think so.”
“Well, you’ll have to invite her. I know she’d want to see me.” His father pointed his turnip-laden fork at himself, then lifted it to his mouth and got his cheek instead. Sue reached over to wipe him but he brushed her aside and did it himself.
Daniel held back a groan. He’d bet Jodi would love to visit his father. Him and all the other farmers around town. And they’d welcome her, their reactions just like Pop’s. His unease amped up another notch. He’d better nix whatever she planned pronto. If good guys like Bud Layhee could be turned out of their family’s homes, then this wasn’t just about a way of life anymore. It was about lives. Period.
“Will she be at your class reunion Friday night?” Sue asked.
“It’s your tenth, right? Wow, that’s old.” A confused look crossed Colton’s face at Sue’s sudden frown. She was four years older than the oblivious object of her affection.
“I’m guessing she won’t miss the chance to talk to some of the farmers attending. She’ll probably be there.” Daniel drained the last of his milk and wiped his mouth. “But not for long.”
* * *
THREE DAYS LATER, Jodi stood on her aunt’s back porch and hugged a quilt around her shoulders. The chill air was fresh with dewy promise and filled with birdcalls. It’d finally stopped raining and the rising sun changed Lake Champlain’s rippling surface from onyx to periwinkle, and then a deep navy studded with white caps that glittered in the growing light. She sighed and wrapped the blanket tighter. It really was beautiful here. She eyed the lake again. As long as you only looked at the surface.
A door squeaked open and Aunt Grace joined her at the railing. “So did you miss your hometown?” She passed Jodi a cup of tea.
“No,” Jodi answered honestly. And she hadn’t. Since she’d left for college, she’d used the mental equivalent of a Magic Eraser and wiped her past clean. Yet somehow, Daniel had stayed with her. Her mouth quirked. Even his memory was stubborn.
Aunt Grace’s wire-rimmed glasses fogged when she sipped her tea. One of her curlers dangled over her ear. “Well. I’m glad you’re here, even if I wish you had a different reason.”
She sighed. “Aunt Grace, you know it’s the only way I can get the money for Tyler’s school.”
“We’ve got perfectly good schools here.”
Her hand covered her aunt’s and squeezed. “Not the kind that Tyler needs.” Her aunt meant well, but she was Tyler’s mother and knew best.
“I like this,” Jodi added after tasting the minty tea. “Peppermint Harvest?”
“Green Moroccan. Trader Mike’s is carrying it now.”
“Since when did Cedar Bay go international?” She couldn’t resist teasing her aunt, although the inclusion of foreign products at the local mom-and-pop store did surprise her. Yankees weren’t fond of change. Just look at Daniel. As the class valedictorian with a full ride to Cornell, he could have studied anything. Been anything. And what had he done? Gotten an MBA in agricultural economics and run right back to his farm. She took another sip of tea. Why did her thoughts so often turn to him?
Her aunt gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Stick around, honey. There’s a lot that’s changed. Not just you.”
She rested her head on her aunt’s shoulder. “And how have I changed?” It was clear that she had, but she wondered how people back home saw her. More confident. Self-assured. No longer an object of pity? And had Daniel noticed? Not that it should matter...but somehow it did.
A hand stroked the crown of her head. “Oh, honey. In lots of ways you’re still the sweet, generous girl you always were, but now there’s something a little—I don’t know—hard about you. And please don’t take that the wrong way.”
She pulled back, stung. “Hard as in strong or hard as in mean?” The former she’d be happy with but the latter...
Aunt Grace’s eye folds looked puffier than usual and she pulled a crumpled tissue out of the robe’s sleeve and blew her nose before answering.
“I don’t know, sweetie. It’s like Chicago put a coat of varnish on you that I wish I could strip away. Uncover your natural self.”
Jodi shook her head. Considering her aunt supplemented her deceased husband’s retirement by refinishing antique furniture, it wasn’t a bad analogy. It just didn’t apply to her.
She spread her arms. “Aunt Grace, this is the real me. I was never myself here.”
“It sure looked like you were enjoying those 4-H picnics, and no one’s beat your record for bobbing apples. Not even Jimmy Terry. With his teeth, we all thought he’d best you for sure.”
The competitor in her felt a flash of satisfaction, and then she remembered they were talking apples, whereas she’d closed multimillion-dollar deals. She’d definitely changed, and for the better. No matter what her aunt might be suggesting.
Aunt Grace lifted her tea mug while Jodi stared out at the red rowboat floating beside the dock. She remembered the gentle slide of the boat through Lake Champlain’s water and yearned for such a peaceful moment. How long since she’d done something just for herself?
“Do you still take it out?”
“When the arthritis isn’t acting up. Why don’t you go for a paddle? Take Tyler. You haven’t let him out of the house yet and everyone’s asking about him...and you.”
She glanced at the silent monitor perched on the porch railing. “He’s got allergies like you. Maybe when he’s better.” She gulped more of the minty brew and refused to imagine why she felt reluctant for the community to meet her son.
“Well, you should get out at least. You’ve been working all kinds of hours since you got here. Mailing out letters. Setting up meetings. Talking on your phone steady. I feel like we’ve hardly had time for a good visit. And I don’t think you’ve had a bit of fun.”
“I’m
