Chapter Eleven

CHAPTER ELEVEN

From the Kitchen of Verbena Fullbright

Once your batter is made, don't let it sit around too long before baking or you risk your cake fallin' flat. Nothing is more disappointing than realizing you waited too long and missed a chance at creating something special.

Addie

It had been a morning . And it wasn't yet nine A.M . Butter and sugar scented the air as I refilled coffee mugs, then hitched myself onto a stool to hear what Henrietta had to tell us.

Honestly, though, I was still shaken by Dare and Petal's visit. And how, once I'd taken a good look, I'd been able to see a bright inner light in his eyes—but only a faint glow in hers. A dimness that reminded me a little too much of my mama.

I silently sent Dare a million apologies for lumping him in with the rest of his family and tried to focus on Henrietta, who was gazing at Tessa Jane.

"I'm so very sorry, darling," she said.

"For what?" Tessa Jane asked, looking truly baffled.

"Somewhere along the line I lost sight of the fact that my goals are mine. Not yours. That what belongs to you belongs only to you. When you told me no the other night, it was the slap in the face I needed to take a good hard look at myself, at what I was doing to you. I didn't like what I saw. It reminded me too much of my father."

I had no idea what they were talking about and was beyond curious.

"Mama, you don't—" Tessa Jane began, tears in her eyes.

"No, no." Henrietta held up her hand. "It's all so clear to me now, and I'm ashamed at how I've pressured you to give, give, give. I couldn't see what it was costing you. Emotionally. And financially, too. It's not your responsibility, it's mine. You need to live life your way."

Tessa Jane came around the island and hugged her mother. "You know I've always wanted to help."

Henrietta squeezed her daughter. "I know. You have a big heart. There's no question I've taken advantage of that, even if it was subconsciously. It won't happen again." She let go of Tessa Jane settled back onto her stool. "To tell this story properly, I need to go back a bit. To a time when I was young and foolish. I was twenty-one years old when I fell in love with Bryce Buckley."

Wide-eyed, Tessa Jane inhaled sharply, then pulled over a stool and sat down. If Aunt Bean had given me a nudge, I'd have fallen right off my seat. I could not believe what I was hearing. Henrietta and Bryce ?

Never in a million years would I have paired the two.

Aunt Bean, I noticed, continued to sip her coffee, not acting the least bit shocked. It was clear to me, as someone who knew her well, that she was already aware of this piece of news.

"It was just one of those things," Henrietta said. "He was tall, dark, and dangerous, and I fell hard and fast, caught up in wanting things I shouldn't have and maybe even wanting to shock my daddy. Rebel a little."

"Gigi and Granddaddy knew about this?" Tessa Jane scratched absently at her neck.

Henrietta said, "Not at first. Not many did. When my mother and father found out, they weren't pleased. But I wasn't to be reasoned with."

"Love," Bean said, shaking her head.

"Exactly," Henrietta agreed. "At first, I was too infatuated to see any of his faults. Then I chose not to see, afraid of losing him. He questioned everything I did, who I saw, what I wore. I made excuses for the bruises, especially to Gavin."

According to Aunt Bean, my daddy and Henrietta had become friends through their jobs at a local retirement village. Daddy had been working as a physical therapist when Henrietta signed on as an event coordinator after she graduated college. They'd bonded over their love of people, the cafeteria's peach cobbler, and the starlight.

Tessa Jane sat frozen in shock on the stool, seemingly not even hearing the buzzer of the oven timer. I got up, took the pan of cookies from the oven, and set it on the counter.

"Gavin didn't buy my excuses and tried endlessly to talk sense into me," Henrietta said. "But I was stubborn. I didn't want to listen."

I wrapped my hands around my mug, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu with this story. My father trying to talk sense into Henrietta mirrored how I'd tried to stop Ree from seeing Ace Buckley.

We'd both failed.

"Bryce and I had been together for seven months when he broke my arm."

A tear slid from Tessa Jane's eye, and my heart about split in half.

Aunt Bean tsk ed softly, shaking her head.

"I knew then that I had to end it. I made the mistake of meeting him alone in my mama's horse barn to tell him. I'll spare you the details, but I will say I thought for certain that was the day I was going to die."

Tessa Jane's breath hitched and I rubbed her back, swallowing hard over my own emotions. I could easily picture Ree's battered body as she told me that she tripped and fell. Again.

"But I was saved by the most unlikely heroes," Henrietta said, glancing at Aunt Bean, who had tears in her eyes. She gave a slight nod as if to say go on . "I'd just about lost consciousness when I heard a great noise, a battle cry. The most beautiful birds I'd ever seen flew into the barn, dive-bombed, really."

The starlings, I was coming to realize, were not only the guardians of the people in my family, but to anyone nearby who needed help. Like Ernie. Like Henrietta.

"The birds attacked Bryce, pecking and scratching him until he ran from the barn, screaming. Later, I heard he'd needed hundreds of stitches." She arched an eyebrow. "I thought it too few."

Tessa Jane's voice was rough when she asked, "Did you go to the police?"

"I wanted to, but my father preferred to pretend it never happened. He only went to the authorities after Bryce came back to the farm a few months later."

My heart ached. "The watering trough?"

"Yes," Henrietta said quietly. "He needed to hurt something, and since he couldn't get to me inside the house, he took it out elsewhere."

Aunt Bean shuddered. "Lord a mercy."

Henrietta nodded. "My recovery was painfully slow, so I needed to take a leave of absence from work. I spent a lot of time at my window. Every so often, the starlings would line up along the pasture's fence. Eighteen of them. As if they were simply paying me a visit to see how I was doing. Just like Gavin—he came to see me at least once a week, too."

I wondered now if this was when their affair started. Wondered, too, why they'd never married after his divorce was finalized. Suddenly, I had the uneasy feeling it had been because of me.

"I can't say I truly understand why the birds helped me," Henrietta said, "but every time the starlings appeared, I vowed to them that I'd repay their kindness by protecting others. I wanted to show them that I was worthy of their intervention." She twisted a gold bangle on her arm. "As soon as I was well enough, I started the Starling Society."

I grabbed hold of my star pendant as she went on to tell us about the secret society and how it helped the abused with money, with counseling, with shelter, with escaping . It all happened through word of mouth. Secrecy was a must—for the safety of those seeking help.

The Starling Society. The name sounded familiar, though I couldn't place how I knew it. I stole a look at Aunt Bean, who once again didn't seem surprised by what Henrietta was saying. She'd known about the society already. Apparently Aunt Bean was an expert at keeping secrets. Unlike me.

Henrietta ran a thumb over the rim of her coffee mug. "The society receives funding from many sources, but over the years the primary benefactor was my mother—not that she knew it."

Henrietta explained how she'd taken the monthly allowance her mother had given her and Tessa Jane and secretly invested it in others. And how Winchester had just cut them off.

She looked at Aunt Bean and me. "You already know my father wants the starlight land. He has grand plans for a big community, using every bit of the acreage he can get his hands on. Plus, he has an inane idea that would allow people to pan for diamonds in the starlight crater."

At this, Bean's eyebrows rose. She pulled her shoulders back. Set her jaw.

Henrietta went on. "He's using money as leverage over Tessa Jane to make sure the property is sold once the inheritance goes through. I've been pressuring her, too. Because the society needs the money. But it was wrong of me. The society is my responsibility, not hers. I will find a way to make it work on my own."

"I want to help you," Tessa Jane said, her voice low, weak, as if she was barely holding herself together.

"There are other ways," Henrietta said. "I know letting go of the field isn't what you want. And I daresay, it's not what Verbena and Addie want, either. I think the best step forward when it comes to the society is to create a private nonprofit, where I can hide the organization under its umbrella."

"That is an excellent step forward," Aunt Bean agreed, rubbing her thumb over the face of her watch.

Tessa Jane shifted on her seat, opened her mouth, then closed it again. Opened it once more and then snapped it shut.

"Spit it out, peanut," Aunt Bean said with a smile.

She scratched her neck and looked around the table. "What if we beat Granddaddy at his own game?"

"What do you mean?" Henrietta asked.

Tessa Jane's hands flew about as she said, "We keep the starlight field, protect it at all costs, and keep it free to visit. But what if we built a café and gift shop close by? Maybe on the other side of the parking lot? Since the field is open only at night, it could be a dessert café. We could sell Starling Cake Company cakes there, make it one big family business. We can use a portion of the profits to quietly help the Starling Society."

Aunt Bean tapped her nails on the table and nodded. "Interesting. I have to admit, I like the idea."

Henrietta put her mug down. "You wouldn't have to donate—"

"Mama, hush," Tessa Jane said, her voice tinged with exasperation.

I smiled at her sassiness, then realized everyone was looking at me.

"What do you think, Addie?" Aunt Bean asked.

I started counting the scratches in the wooden countertop. Finally, I said, "I'm not sure. This is a lot to take in all at once."

Aunt Bean patted my hand. "Take your time. No one needs a decision straight away. How long will you be in town, Henrietta?"

"I planned to stay the week, but I had to get out of that house." She glanced at her watch. "I'm hoping the Celestial Hotel has a room available."

Aunt Bean said, "Hotel? Nonsense. Stay here with us."

"I couldn't possibly. I'd never want to intrude."

"It's not an intrusion, is it, girls?" Bean asked.

The look in Aunt Bean's eyes warned us to play nice. Warned me, at least. I had the feeling my apprehension was stamped all over my face.

"No, ma'am," Tessa Jane and I said at the same time.

"See?" Bean smiled. "It's settled. Tessa Jane, why don't you help your mama bring her things to the guest room?"

Once they were out of earshot, Aunt Bean said, "I know this is a lot to absorb, punkin."

"Winchester's never going to stop trying to get that land, even if we build on it. And if he becomes mayor, he'll have more power than ever. Who knows what he'll do to get revenge?"

Aunt Bean stood, wrapped her arms around me. "This is where we need to take a cue from the starlings."

I rested my head against her chest, heard her heart beating, reassuring me. "How so?"

She kissed my head, took another cookie from the cooling rack, and trundled toward the stairs. She faced me before starting the climb. "Starlings travel in flocks and murmurations because they know there's safety in numbers. And more importantly, they know they're stronger if they stick together rather than try to face hard times alone."

Later that afternoon, Aunt Bean's words were weighing heavy on my mind. I had the feeling her starling analogy wasn't just referring to any future problems we might have with Winchester. She was talking about my past, essentially telling me that I didn't have to shoulder my troubles alone, like I'd been doing for so long now.

It was a little past four, and the three of them had gone to pick up some groceries and a few craft supplies Tessa Jane needed to finish the cookies for Ernie. It was hardly a three-person job, but I suspected they all were trying to give me some space.

I was currently in the storage room on the second floor of the big red barn, trying to put my studio to rights. During the past week, I'd relocated all the cleaning supplies and had given the room a good tidying.

I'd borrowed a folding table from Aunt Bean to use as a desk. I set up my laptop, microphone, and filter. And, of course, I was still waiting on the foam tiles and rug to arrive. I couldn't really do any work without them.

I powered on my laptop, checked my email and schedule. I liked to think it had been fate that had set me on the path of voice work. A consolation gift since I had to leave everyone I loved behind in Starlight and start life over in Birmingham. The mother of one of my roommates in the apartment I rented was a voice coach with connections. The minute she met me, her eyes had lit up. She helped me find a good acting class I could take around working full-time at a local bakery to pay the bills. And within a year, she'd introduced me to the woman who'd become my agent.

Most of those early days had been spent creating audition demos. Then I landed a local radio spot. Then local commercials. Then national commercials. I narrated audiobooks. I voiced a documentary for children about panda bears. And had a few roles in video games. Then I landed a bit role on a long-running animated TV show for young children. Then another. I'd thrown myself into my work, heart and soul, and I loved it.

My big break came when I'd landed the lead role in an animated TV show based on books set here in Alabama. The series featuring Poppy Kay Hoppy, a precocious, adventurous bunny, had been an instant hit. Ratings went through the roof. I'd recently finished recording my lines for the third season and there was no end in sight when it came to the series wrapping.

Its popularity had given me some breathing room, a chance to be a bit pickier with my work. And it had opened other doors. Bigger doors.

Now I was here, knowing exactly how lucky I was because it wasn't an easy industry in which to succeed. But I'd done it. Was doing it.

And yet…

Part of me still longed to be a Sugarbird.

Feeling at odds with myself, I walked over to the small window. The sun had come out around noontime and with it had come warmth. As I watched the starlings flit about the pecan tree Sam Smith started singing from my cell phone.

At the sound, I somehow knew my mama had already found out that Henrietta was staying at the farmhouse and was calling to voice her opinion on the matter. Because I didn't want to hear what she had to say, I silenced the call.

I tried to put myself in my mama's shoes, as a young wife who'd discovered her husband had cheated on her and had another child. I could feel her pain, her anger. I could see why she'd want to leave him. But, as hard as I tried, I would never understand how she'd walked away from me . Why she kept walking away.

Because my chest was suddenly tight, I tried to open the window to let some air in, but remembered it was painted shut. It was then that I noticed someone walking out of the woods, toward the farmhouse.

My heart started pounding. It was Luna.

The cabin where she lived with Sawyer was located practically in the farmhouse's backyard. It was just a short walk away, through the woods. Honestly, I was surprised they'd never moved. And equally surprised that Sawyer still worked as the field's caretaker after all this time.

It was, after all, a job that was meant to be Ree's.

Bean had created it for her when she found out Ree was pregnant, as a way of giving her a place of her own and a steady income while she figured out what was ahead.

I rubbed an ache in my chest as I watched Luna fast-walk across the property, her short strides sure and steady.

After Ree passed away, Bean offered the same job to Sawyer and he accepted. Back then, along with caring for the field and the crater, he had to open the parking lot gate at seven P.M. and close it at eleven, and tend to the lot, emptying trash bins and the like—which he could do with Luna strapped to his back if he wanted.

These days, however, Sawyer only took care of the field and crater, including the starwalk. The rest was covered by part-time attendants Bean hired about five years ago. Which, I now realized, was right around the time Luna started school full-time and he started working with his dad.

But why stay on at all? He could earn much more money working full-time with his father. And why still live in the tiny cabin?

I turned my attention back to Luna as she neared the front porch. From a distance, she looked surprisingly like her mama. It was the way she moved, I decided. My eyes filled with tears even as I smiled, remembering the way Ree would always lead with her head and chest, as if her feet couldn't quite keep up with her headstrong ways.

Luna quickly climbed the porch steps and knocked on the door. Even from inside the barn I could hear the dogs barking their fool heads off.

I knew she was looking for me. Good manners being what they were suggested I should go down there, invite her in, offer her a cookie. Tell her about her mama.

But I couldn't bring myself to move.

I stayed right where I was, tucked into the shadows, watching her from afar.

Hiding.

Facing my troubles all alone.