Chapter Twenty-One

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

From the Kitchen of Verbena Fullbright

Most cakes need to be trimmed to sit perfectly level. But don't go tossing those scraps. They can be made into cake balls or pops or truffles. Or used in trifle or parfaits. One man's trash can be another man's (or dog's) treasure.

Addie

Early the next morning, I was making my bed when my phone started singing about goodbyes, and I immediately regretted switching off the Do Not Disturb mode when I woke up.

It was a little past six and I'd obviously underestimated my mother's need to talk about what had happened with Tessa Jane, though the dozens of overnight messages and calls I'd found waiting for me this morning should've been a clue. The dizzying speed in which small-town gossip was dispersed would never cease to amaze me.

I had my finger poised to decline the call but then had the unsettling thought that she might show up on the doorstep if I kept putting her off. Taking a deep breath, I said, "Hello?"

At the sound of my voice, Stella lifted her head from a pillow, blinked sleepy eyes, stretched her tiny arms, then rolled onto her back and closed her eyes once again.

It had been a late night for all of us.

Henrietta and Tessa Jane had gotten back around midnight. I'd only seen my sister for a minute before she went up to bed. Just enough time to give her a big hug and tell her that I loved her.

"You need to get yourself a good lawyer, y'hear? Not that old geezer Stubblefield," my mother said, not even bothering to say hello. "That land is yours and yours alone. I should've known that woman was conning your daddy."

I sat down on the edge of the bed and started counting the polka dots on the sheet set, waiting her out.

"He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, I'm sorry to say. Ripe for the plucking. And pluck she did, didn't she? Near to picked him clean. You're welcome, by the way. If not for me sensing that she and that girl of hers were up to no good, the Wingroves might've had you in their clutches, too."

I rolled my eyes at her ability to rewrite history to fit her narrative.

"I hope Verbena kicked them to the curb last night. It burns me up to think of the way they've been playing big happy house with y'all, taking advantage of Verbena's good nature and bad heart. It's sickening to think that—"

"Stop!" I couldn't take it anymore.

I blinked away tears remembering how Tessa Jane had clung to me last night—as if she'd been afraid of losing me again—and how she'd told me in a shaky voice, "Love you, too, Addie."

"Don't you dare sass me, young lady," my mama snapped. "You best listen to me—"

"No," I said calmly but firmly, then continued in a rush so she wouldn't interrupt. "You need to listen to me for a change. I'm not doing this with you anymore. As far as I'm concerned, Tessa Jane is my sister, and I love her. So you're either going to have accept that and be civil or take yourself out of my life for good. Those are the only options, but the choice is yours. Now, I'm going to go hang up, make some coffee, and when my sister wakes up, I'm going to give her a big hug. Goodbye, Mama."

With that, I put my phone back into Do Not Disturb, scooped up Stella to hug to my chest, and noticed that I was breathing easier, as though a great big weight had finally been lifted off my heart.

With the rain yesterday, the Sassafras Creek had jumped its bed and washed into the woods. Soon enough, it would be tucked back in where it belonged, because the sun was out and there were clear skies in the foreseeable forecast.

Ahead of me on the trail, Luna and Hambone splashed through mud puddles, the dog leading the way.

Next to me, Sawyer said, "I feel guilty for leaving Pepper behind."

I hadn't planned to walk Hambone this morning, thinking he probably preferred to stay with Pepper anyway, but Aunt Bean had suggested a stroll shortly after Luna showed up at the door bright and early, hoping to see Tessa Jane, who was deservedly sleeping in.

When I opened the door for Luna, I'd been mildly surprised to see the starlings on the roof of the big red barn. I thought after yesterday's revelations I wouldn't see them close to the house for a while and couldn't imagine why they were still nearby.

Sawyer had shown up not long after Luna to collect his daughter after finding her note on the kitchen table when he'd come back from the donut shop with their usual Sunday breakfast. He'd texted me to let me know he was on his way, and I could practically hear his exasperation in the message. Apparently he'd told her last night to give us time before barging on in.

But like her mama, she'd been too full of excitement to sit still. All she'd been talking about this morning was about how she and Tessa Jane were cousins. Family.

Sawyer had wanted to take Luna straight home, but I'd suggested we stick to the plan of taking a walk.

"I feel bad, too," I said, "but Ross said no walks for Pepper for a while. Don't worry too much, though. Aunt Bean will spoil her while we're out. She's probably feeding her bacon under the table right now. Maybe not even under the table."

Hambone stopped, glancing back at hearing the word bacon . His ears perked, and we laughed.

Luna was singing the line in "Bohemian Rhapsody" about a poor boy from a poor family, and I would've sworn that it sounded like the birds were chirping along to the melody.

I nudged Sawyer with my elbow. "How long before you never want to hear that song again?"

"Already there. But it makes her happy, so I'll deal."

"You're a good dad."

He smiled shyly. "I try."

We walked for a bit, enjoying Luna's concert, before Sawyer asked, "How's Tessa Jane doing?"

He already knew Tessa Jane had gone to see Dare last night—Aunt Bean had been working a phone chain like she was one of those old-fashioned switchboard operators, continuously updating all the people who'd been worried sick since Tessa Jane ran off.

"She's shaken," I said. "I think it's going to take some time for her to sort it through."

"And how're you doing?" he asked.

"I'm okay. Sorting emotions, too. Mostly I just want her to know how much I care about her. It took so long for me to learn how to be a good sister that I'm not going to let anything as trivial as DNA stop me now."

"Between you and Verbena and Luna, she's going to be smothered in love."

I could think of a few other people to add to that list as well, like the Sugarbirds and Ernie. They'd always loved her for who she was, not who she came from.

Hambone started baying as Luna launched into a repeat performance of the song. The way he towed her along gave the impression that he was trying to outrun her, so I assumed he was as sick of the song as Sawyer was.

"This is nice, walking in the woods with you," he said.

"Feels like old times."

Old times when we'd been each other's whole worlds. The love I had for him then was still there, under the surface, waiting to see what the future held.

As we passed the path that led to his cabin, I said, "I'm surprised you never moved away."

He kicked a rock. "Are you? Don't you think some things are worth sticking around for?"

I got lost looking in his eyes, all warm and tender, so it took me a moment to realize he was talking about me.

All these years that I'd been running, he'd stayed, hoping I'd come back.

My eyes filled with tears, and I nodded. "I learned that lesson a little late, but now it's one I plan to keep close to my heart."

"That's a good place for it."

I smiled and bravely reached for his hand.

His fingers immediately entwined with mine as though it was second nature. "Don't suppose you'd like to go up to Mentone next weekend with Luna and me? Annabelle would love to see you."

"I'd like that."

Whether what was happening between us was simply friendship or something more, time would tell. Either way, I was looking forward to finding out.

The creek splashed and burbled as he said, "Heard some interesting news at the donut shop this morning. About Winchester."

I didn't like wishing ill will on anyone, but Winchester was seriously pushing my resolve. "Is it something to do with Tessa Jane? Because I'm not sure I can stomach it."

"Not about her—or any of you. It has more to do with him digging his own grave."

I faced him. There was a devious sparkle in his eye. "Okay, spill."

"Apparently Winchester had a bit of an altercation with the editor of the paper last night towards the tail end of the gala and was arrested on a drunk and disorderly charge. He tried to buy his way out of it, offering the arresting officer a thousand bucks, so then he was also charged with trying to bribe a public servant."

"No!"

"He was cuffed right in the hotel lobby and hauled off to jail."

"Please tell me someone got pictures."

"Not that I know of but supposedly there were plenty of witnesses."

I stepped over an exposed tree root. "But wait. I thought he was friends with the sheriff?"

"From the talk at the donut shop, Winchester treatin' Tessa Jane the way he did last night was one sin too many for folks to stomach. The tide decided it was time to turn."

"I can't believe it."

"It gets better."

"How could it possibly?"

"Winchester is still sittin' in jail right now. Because it's Sunday, he can't get bail until tomorrow, after his arraignment. And do you want to hear the best kicker of all?" His eyes glinted, the gold flecks glimmering. "If Winchester gets convicted, which I don't know how he wouldn't, considering all the eyewitnesses, he'd be disqualified from holding public office. Meaning that even if by some miracle he won the mayoral election, he can't be mayor."

I was practically walking on air. This was the best possible news.

"He can't do anything to stop you and Tessa Jane from building near the starlight crater."

I wasn't so sure about that. Winchester was a vindictive man, and if we built, I knew he'd be out for revenge.

If we built.

I was still on the fence, unsure if it was the right thing to do.

It had become obvious that my feelings for the starlight had been tainted by my mother's anger and my grief over Ree's death. The clarity my daddy and Ree had found in the starlight hadn't truly been the things that hurt my mama and me.

It had been our reactions to those choices.

Mama had chosen anger.

I'd closed myself off.

I realized now that the only way to judge the clarity fairly—and maybe get some guidance on the decision that needed to be made—was to experience it firsthand.

It was finally time to walk among the starlight.

Tessa Jane

I was awoken by the gentle shake of a hand on my arm. "Come take a walk with me, peanut."

The words were quickly followed by the jingle of dog tags and a wet slurp on my hand. I wasn't sure which of the dogs had given me the kiss, because my eyes were so gritty that I could barely open them.

Wiping my face, I cracked open an eye and squinted at Aunt Bean, who stood at my bedside. "What time is it?"

My voice was raspy. Mama and I had gotten back to the farmhouse at midnight and thankfully, after giving me hugs and kisses, Aunt Bean and Addie had accepted my plea to talk in the morning about my grandfather's revelation. I'd gone straight up to bed but had barely slept at all, the long conversation I'd had with my mama rolling around in my head. That and how Addie had said she loved me. Thinking about it now immediately brought tears to my eyes. But blinking them away eased the grittiness, so there was that.

A bright side.

And thinking that brought a stab of pain.

What a roller coaster I was on.

"Eight thirty," Aunt Bean said.

"Is everyone else already up?"

"Your mama's still sleeping. Addie, Luna, and Sawyer took Hambone for a walk in the woods."

Ah, so the doggy kiss had come from Pepper. A fluff ball wiggled near my shoulder, and I sat up, pulling Lovey to my chest for cuddles. I didn't need to ask why Luna and Sawyer were here so early. I'd found at least two dozen messages from Luna on my phone last night after I got home. Her joy at being related to me had managed to bring a smile to my face. But the thought of facing them all right now, answering a million questions, made me want to hide under my covers. "Is that where we're going? To join them?"

"No, ma'am. I have another destination in mind. Wear your rain boots. It's a good distance and it'll be muddy."

"Are you trying to talk me out of going?"

She patted my cheek. "The journey will be worth it. Trust me. And it'll also buy you some time to shore up your emotions before facing everyone."

It amazed me how well she knew what I needed right now, but then again, she'd always been the one who most saw me for who I was. When Mama had shared with me last night that Aunt Bean had always known I wasn't a Fullbright, it had knocked the fear right out of me that things would be different between us.

"Can I at least bring coffee with me?"

She laughed, then noisily kissed my forehead before heading to the door. "I've already got a fresh pot brewing."

Pepper looked torn about whether to stay with me or go with her but ultimately trotted out the door.

"Aunt Bean?"

She paused in the doorway, looked back. "Yes?"

"I love you."

Her smile stretched across her whole face, ear to ear. She came back to the bed, sat on the edge, and wrapped me in her arms, taking care not to squish Lovey. "I love you, too, Tessa Jane. More than you could ever know." She let go of me, nudged my chin, and used her thumb to swipe my tears. "Now get a move on or Luna's going to hold you hostage for the next hour and a half, and so help me if I have to hear her sing that song one more time. I almost threw myself out of the truck yesterday on the way to see Dare."

I smiled and she lifted off the bed. A second later, she and Pepper were down the stairs.

My heart was heavy as I thought about Petal's ultimatum. If Dare chose to surrender Pepper, I had the feeling I was going to be adopting a dog along with this kitten. Which meant I was going to have to cut back on my work hours.

Or find a new job.

A job like making cookies full-time.

I let that thought simmer as I gave Lovey kisses before dragging myself out of bed. I was still thinking about it when Aunt Bean and I walked out the back door ten minutes later, both of us with travel mugs in hand. Mine filled with hazelnut coffee, hers with cold water.

The ducks waddled quickly over to us, looking for treats, and squawked loudly when they didn't receive any.

Aunt Bean patted their heads as they used their beaks to peck at the pockets of her coat. She said to them, "Y'all will survive without a treat. I swannee ." To me, she added, "We've done spoiled them rotten and now they're bossy as all get out."

As soon as she started off toward the back of the yard, I pulled a handful of raspberries from my coat pocket, dropped them on the ground, and hurried to catch up to her.

The sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. We'd left Pepper with a new chew toy and she seemed perfectly content to be left behind in the care of Miney and Moe. We also stuck a sticky note on the coffee pot to let everyone know we'd gone for a walk.

Aunt Bean had done her hair more in a sweeping pixie style today instead of the sky-high hairdo she usually preferred. Dark jeans were tucked into rain boots patterned with lady bugs. Instead of her walking stick she used a four-footed cane, industrial gray in color, and I wished she'd spray-painted it hot pink or bright yellow. Something that better fit her spunky nature.

I wanted to ask if she was sure she was up for the exertion of a long walk but held my tongue knowing it was pointless. She was a woman on a mission. I just wasn't sure what mission yet.

She swung open the back gate, held it for me, then made sure it was closed securely behind us.

She squinted at the ducks pecking furiously at the raspberries, then turned her head ever so slightly to look at me.

I smiled innocently.

She snorted and led the way into the pasture behind the house, seemingly heading for the starlight crater, which made no sense because it would've been quicker to drive than walk.

I kept a close eye on her as we moved along, watching her breathing. The MRI results should be ready in the next couple of days, and I was hoping and praying and wishing for good news.

But halfway to the starlight field, when we stopped to rest and take a drink, agitated chirps came from the trees that lined the field as the starlings landed in high branches, their silver wings glistening in sunlight. As I watched them, I somehow knew, down deep in my soul, that their close presence lately had to do with Aunt Bean and her health troubles. I couldn't explain how I knew—just like I didn't know why I'd felt the need to see Dare last night or why I'd been determined to see the starlight the night Ty had been there.

She followed my gaze, raised an eyebrow. "At least they're not circling above us like vultures. Then I'd be really worried about my old ticker calling it quits right here and now." She looked around. "Not that it's a bad place to go."

I scratched at a hive on my neck. "You're not going anywhere. Not today. Or tomorrow. Or ever if I have a say so."

She smiled at me, love shining in her eyes. "Oh sweet darlin'. None of us gets a say-so. When it's our time, it's our time."

A tear spilled down my face. "I don't want you to go."

Her gaze slid back to the birds. "I won't ever be far, peanut. I promise you. One day I'll be watching over you same as them. And I want you to remember that I love you and your sister more than anything in the world. Even more than all the stars in the sky."

I just kept shaking my head.

"I reckon the birds are making a fuss because I'm going to show you something that you're not supposed to know until after I'm gone. I'm bending the family rules, and I don't care a whit if it ruffles their feathers," she said loudly, banging the cane twice against the ground for good measure.

When she started walking again, I followed, wiping my eyes. "Showing me something at the crater?"

" Near the crater."

We walked in silence for a stretch. I was having trouble catching my breath, all tangled up in grief. I tried telling myself over and over that she was still here, but it seemed like my heart wouldn't listen to reason.

"Here we are," she said ten minutes later, coming to a stop a stone's throw from where the star had fallen so long ago.

I glanced around expecting some sort of aha moment. But all I saw was tall grass, weeds, and an old hand-cranked water pump.

Bean said, "Last night your mama shared with Addie and me that your granddaddy pressured you to bake cakes like mine and you failed time and again. I hadn't known. So today, we're going to bake a cake together ."

The thought alone made my stomach hurt. "I don't think that—"

"Hush now. Did you use one of my bottles of vanilla extract when you made your cakes?"

"No, ma'am. But I used a similar kind my mama ordered in special. It didn't make any difference."

"That's what I figured. Well, today I'll show you why those cakes never tasted the same as mine. It starts with me teaching you how to collect a special ingredient, the one you didn't use in the cakes you made for your granddaddy."

I smiled despite myself. "Unicorn tears?"

She laughed, and I lost myself in the sound for a moment. "Not quite. It's the taste of magic." She beamed. "Starry magic."

I was intrigued by her tone, a mix of wonder and delight.

She slipped a silver hip flask from her coat pocket and handed it over. "Hold this."

I took it from her and watched her every move. But as she strode toward the pump, something in the tall grass distracted her and she took a detour. "What's this now?" She bent down and picked up what looked like a silver stick. "Well, I declare!"

"Is that a mouth mirror? Like a dentist uses? How'd it get out here?"

"It is indeed. And I know exactly where it came from. Last night, when Addie was trying to keep my mind off… things , she shared that Sawyer told her how the starlings had scared off several men this week sitting on the edge of the starlight crater at twilight, all of them holding one of these doohickeys. One of the trespassers must've dropped it when he ran off."

As she tucked the mirror into her coat pocket, a shaft of sunlight hit the glass and flashed back at me. I blinked against the light and nearly gasped as the truth hit me.

A flash of light at twilight. A wink. A blink.

The reflection of light off the mirror had to have been the sparkle I'd seen from the attic window. I felt so foolish that I hadn't questioned the timing of seeing a glint after all these years. I should've known my granddaddy would do and say anything to get his hands on this land. Including using my fascination with Abner's journal against me.

I couldn't help wondering why he'd go to the trouble. Did he think that if I saw a sparkle, I'd be eager to dig for diamonds? Or be willing to let others pay to do it?

Most likely, which showed how little he truly knew me.

I hadn't been looking for a twinkle because I wanted to sell the stones. I'd been looking because I'd felt as though Abner had been a kindred spirit. A kind soul in a hard world.

Because no one else did, I'd chosen to believe him when he said there were diamonds.

And now I wasn't sure what to believe.

Bean said, "What I don't rightly understand is why Winchester would be sending men out here to sit and play with a mirror. Because you know this had to have been one of his schemes."

"I'm done trying to figure him out," I said, too embarrassed to admit that I knew the reason why.

"Rightly so," she said after a moment that stretched, as though she wanted to say more. Then she walked over to the pump. "Now, this is easy as pie to operate, peanut." Aunt Bean pushed down the lever, then lifted it back up. After a few pumps, water started trickling out, and she motioned to the flask in my hand with her chin. "Fill 'er up, Tessa Jane!"

I twisted the cap off the flask and held it out, angling the mouth under the spout. When water started to overflow onto my hands, Aunt Bean stopped pumping. "Whoo-ee. It's been a long time since I've done that. Usually Sawyer collects the star water when I need it."

I capped the flask. "Star water?"

She kicked the stem of the pump, which sat on a cement ring. "This here is the head of an old well, hand dug after one of your ancestors realized that when they drank runoff water from the starlight field, life seemed a whole lot brighter."

My eyes widened. "You use this well water in the cakes?"

"I use it in the vanilla extract—after filtering and boiling of course. No need for anyone to get any stomach nasties. And I'll let you in on another secret as well." She slid a glance toward the starlings, then dropped her voice. "Suppose when you were just a wee baby, a teeny tiny thing with delicate pink lips and big blue eyes, someone maybe, might've, possibly bathed you in the star water, downy head to tiny toe, a Fullbright custom that goes way back. And perhaps that bath is what's believed to give the women in our family the ability to see bright sides." As the starlings started trilling, she added loudly, "Hypothetically, of course."

It took me a moment to fully understand what she was saying. All our gifts were from the water. No. From the star that had fallen so long ago.

Bean reached over and lifted my pendant, balancing it on her fingertip. "And because sometimes the dark side of life can overwhelm us, we're given extra help to see the light. Yours and Addie's necklaces have been soaked in the water, the same way my mama dipped my watchband in it."

My eyes widened, and I latched onto my pendant. No wonder my ability to see bright sides had waned after I stopped wearing it. Without it, my shadow truly had taken over, only allowing me brief glimpses of brightness.

"How come I've never heard all this before? About the power of the star water? Does Addie know?"

She looped her arm around mine and we started back to the farmhouse, the wind blowing gently, the flask of water in my pocket.

"She doesn't yet. Traditionally, this is information that's passed down in death from one generation to the next, but I decided today's the day we break the rules. You needed to know, to set your heart at ease about those cakes."

Learning about the water had already helped, but I knew it was going to take time, and a whole lot of cake baking, to remove my granddaddy's derisive comments from my memory.

"But we'll tell Addie, too?" I asked.

"Of course, peanut. As soon as we get back."

We walked for a while in companionable silence before I said, "Do you—" I cut myself off, not sure what I was doing. I hadn't thought this through enough. Or the impact of it, or the ripple effect it would have on others. Then I gave myself a good mental scolding. For so long I'd put myself last. It was time I put myself first and hold true to what I wanted. "Do you think I could use the big red barn's kitchen for a cookie business once the cake company moves back to Market Street?"

"Do I mind?" She whooped. "I thought you'd never ask! But I'd like to make you a counter offer."

"What's that?"

"I'd love for you to join us at the Market Street location. Become a partner. The kitchen's plenty big enough to make cakes and cookies."

I squinted at her, wondering if she'd made the kitchen extra large on purpose, somehow knowing this day would come.

She lifted her eyebrows innocently.

But no. How could she have known? The plans for the renovation had been in the works for a long time now.

I scratched a hive on my neck. "Would I have to bake cakes?"

She smiled. "Only if you wanted to."

Working alongside her and the Sugarbirds every day was a tempting offer, but right now it felt a little overwhelming. "Let me think about it a bit."

"You just let me know."

As we approached the back fence, Hambone and Pepper saw us coming and started barking hellos. We gave them love and pats as Addie came out the back door, holding a mug. "Where'd you two go off to?"

"Secret mission," Bean said.

Addie held up a hand. In a voice that sounded a lot like Eliza Doolittle before she met Henry Higgins, she said, "Pardon me, but I'm going to stop you right there. I love you both dearly, but I don't want to hear about anything secret. Lalalala!" And she turned around and rushed back into the house.

Aunt Bean and I looked at each other and started laughing at her delivery.

But as we followed her inside, it wasn't her humor that was filling me with warmth and happiness.

It was the part where she said she'd loved us dearly.