Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“You used to make the best cookies,” I said. “With sprinkles.”
“You remember!” Sugar Mae’s smile was so wide I thought her cheeks would crack. “You were always such a good boy. I knew you liked my cookies. And now you’re back, and you brought your fiancée. Hard to imagine little Buck all grown up and getting married, but time does go by, doesn’t it?” She patted my arm, her eyes a little misty. “Let’s get you a glass of wine. Is there any left in that bottle, Bob?”
“I’ll open a new one,” he said.
“Don’t go to any trouble for us,” Sterling cut in. “We have a long drive to get back to Sawyers Bend and—”
“One glass of wine won’t hurt. You’ll have plenty of time for it to wear off.” Sugar Mae’s smile dimmed a fraction, her eyes sliding across the kitchen to meet her husband’s.
“You’ll be hungry,” Bob said. “Y’all must have been stuck in that boathouse half the afternoon.”
I didn’t bother to hide the truth. The heat of a flush on my cheeks, I nodded, feeling like I was thirteen again and in trouble for taking the boat out without permission.
“Yes, sir,” I found myself saying.
“Then you’ll stay for dinner,” Mae said. “It may be instead of that wine, they could use some iced tea.”
“Iced tea would be heavenly,” Sterling said. “And again, we’re so sorry for the trespassing. Forrest was remembering the lake and—”
“Young lady,” Mae interrupted, “we know you’re not here for nostalgia.”
Sterling went still beside me. I wound my arm around her waist, pulling her closer.
“Why do you think we’re here?” I asked.
Mae’s eyes shifted to Bob again. He nodded. She shook her head and said, “I’ll get the iced tea. We’ll go out to the porch.”
Bob nodded again. Sterling started to follow him. Her good manners got the better of her, and she stopped. “Can I help, Sugar Mae?”
“No, honey. You go make yourself comfortable on the porch, and I’ll be out in a flash.”
We followed Bob’s tall frame through the cottage to the back porch overlooking the lake. I caught an impression of whitewashed walls and furniture in light colors with bright accents in the pillows and art. Overall, the place was cheerful, inviting, and oddly familiar.
We stepped onto the porch, and I stopped, the lake spread out before me, extending to the thick green trees on the opposite shore. The house hadn’t tripped my memory, not completely, but this—I knew this view. How could I have forgotten this place?
“Just like I remember,” I said. “Not the inside, but this view never changes, does it?”
Bob agreed. “Not so far. Especially not with the state park across the way. When your momma said she was going to move back to her people, we offered for this place. Thought we’d save her the real estate commission. We always loved this view when we’d come out here with your parents.” He gestured us to a group of rocking chairs set up facing the water, loosely arranged around a low table.
The familiar mineral organic scent of the lake drifted into my nostrils. I loved that smell. I’d forgotten how much. The gentle slap of water against the shore was punctuated by shouts in the distance. I looked to see a family jumping off their boat to splash in the lake. Memories from my childhood came flooding back. We hadn’t been here enough, but when we were, we were happy, the three of us.
And yet, my father had left me. Left us. It made no more sense to me now than it had then.
“I wish—” I let out a sigh and didn’t finish the thought. It would have been too much to maintain the house from so far away. Of course, she’d sold it. Aloud, I said, “She needed the money.”
“That she did.” Bob nodded. “We lived here for about five years before we decided to do some work on the kitchen. While we were at it, we decided to add some more benches in the boathouse.”
Suddenly, I knew exactly where Bob was going with all of this.
“Our carpenter found the compartment your father built under the bench,” Bob said.
“What did you find inside?” Sterling asked, leaning forward. “What did you do with it?”
Bob looked from Sterling to me. “Don’t see a ring on her finger to go with all those questions.” He raised an eyebrow in my direction, his eyes genial, but the words had the slightest edge.
“We’re getting the ring resized,” Sterling said easily. It should probably have bothered me to see how well she lied, especially considering she’d dumped me for the same offense. But even at my most defensive, I knew my lie had been different.
“What did you find in the compartment?” I asked Bob.
“I found something,” Bob agreed. “I think it came from your father. Looked like something Alan would have left. And I think it’s for you. I can’t think of anyone else who should have it, at least.”