Chapter Twenty-Two

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

From the Kitchen of Verbena Fullbright

Baking is a messy business, no two ways around that fact, especially if flour, powdered sugar, and cocoa powder are involved. Lordy mercy. Best way to clean those spills is keeping them dry. Resist using a vacuum—it'll clog its filter right up. Instead, use a bench scraper or hand broom for a quick clean up. A tidy kitchen is a happy kitchen.

Tessa Jane

As I walked a piece of cake and a cold drink from the patio to the duck coop, I heard Ernie Underwood say, "If I had my druthers, I'd send her packing. Don't let the door hit ya where the good lord split ya!" She sat at the outdoor table, the open umbrella shading her thin face.

The sentence was punctuated by hammering, as if Ty was driving home the statement rather than simply shingling the roof of Lucy and Ethel's coop, one of the last steps before the pair of ducks could move in.

From around the table, Bean and the Sugarbirds murmured their agreement.

I was certain Addie would've agreed, too, but she was in her studio trying to catch up on auditions. Tonight, she had plans to walk in the starlight since she was still conflicted about building near the site, and I'd volunteered to go with her, since I was looking for some clarity myself about my new bakery business. Did I want to start small? Or jump into the deep end with Aunt Bean?

"Who asks a man to give up the dog he raised from puppyhood? It ain't right," Pinky said, her high-pitched voice carrying easily.

I wished my mama was here to weigh in, too, but she'd had to leave this morning—there was a fundraising event tonight in Savannah that she couldn't miss. But she promised to be back for my birthday.

The Sugarbirds, Ernie, and Aunt Bean were, of course, talking about Petal's ultimatum. As was most everyone in Starlight, because apparently at the gala, Petal had gotten tipsy and talked an ear off Graham Doby, telling him about the demand she'd made of her new husband. With him being a blabbermouth and all, it hadn't taken long for word to spread. People were taking sides, but it seemed to me that most of those sides belonged to Dare.

Between that gossip, my paternity shocker, and Granddaddy's arrest, the town was in a tizzy. I'd been grateful the bakery had been closed yesterday and today. A brief respite from the onslaught of busybodies about to descend on me under the pretense of buying cakes.

As I made my way toward Ty, I looked back at the ducks and the dogs as they trailed after me, wanting to see what I held. "This isn't for you," I said to them.

None of them seemed particularly convinced.

The cake slice I carried came from the cake I'd baked yesterday with Aunt Bean. The recipe was the one she had created to benefit the Starling Society. She called it the Darling Starling cake, which I adored.

Much to my surprise, baking the cake had been comforting—because being alongside Addie and Bean in the kitchen, laughing and listening to my daddy's records and reminiscing about him, had been exactly what my soul needed to accept that they were my family, always and forever.

As soon as the cake was done, Bean, Addie, and I had shared a slice. They both declared that it tasted just like Aunt Bean's had. Their compliments hadn't been overly effusive, which I appreciated, because then it would've seemed like fake praise. Empty words spoken to try to quickly rebuild what my grandfather had broken.

Instead, it was as if they understood that rebuilding would come slowly, one compliment at a time. And when I took a bite of the cake for myself, that mix of raspberry and cream and Aunt Bean's special vanilla, I knew my shadow had finally given way to the light.

No, I hadn't quite found my way back to who I used to be like I'd originally wanted when I came to Starlight. But now I was someone better. Because I knew exactly who I was. I was a mix of the dark and the light. I'd learned that my shadow was what helped me to shine brighter.

As I approached the coop, Ty looked down at me from the top of a ladder. I said, "Your mama says it's time to take a break."

We both glanced toward the patio.

Ernie finger-waved, a grin on her face.

Ty shook his head. "There's probably no use in arguing."

I squinted against the sun. "It'll be easier for the both of us if you just play along."

He cracked a smile and slid the hammer into a loop on his tool belt. He came down the ladder, skipping the last few rungs as he jumped to the ground. It reminded me of a misty day at the Market Street bakery nearly a month ago. We'd come a long way since then.

"Thank you," he said, taking the plate and drink from my hands. He threw a look toward the patio, as if weighing whether he should eat at the table, then turned and walked behind the coop to sit on one of two sawhorses.

I sat on the second one to keep him company. The ducks waddled around us, and Hambone and Pepper sat at Ty's feet, blatantly begging, tails wagging.

Ty set his glass down next to him on the sawhorse and nodded at Pepper, who was still wearing a cone. "She seems to be doing well."

This spot behind the coop had the added benefit of being out of sight of the patio. It was nice not to have all those eyes on us. "Just a bit of a limp still. She took to the cone a lot better than I thought she would. Hambone probably would've eaten straight through it to get it off."

Hambone looked over at me, his eyes full of outrage that I'd think such a thing.

"I've seen him try to eat rocks, so yeah, he probably would." Ty smiled, and it lit his brown eyes, making them look like warm honey. "Once he ate a whole box of earplugs. Those squishy orange ones? And Mama hadn't realized it until all these orange dots started showing up in the yard."

Hambone bayed and trotted off.

I laughed, watching him go. "None of us like our most embarrassing stories told, I suppose."

Pepper wandered over to me, licked my hand when I patted her head, then followed Hambone. Then the ducks chased after them both, trying to start trouble.

I was going to miss the dogs when they went back home. Well, in Pepper's case, if . But for Hambone, I suspected it wouldn't be long. Ernie was gaining back her strength by leaps and bounds.

"What'd you end up naming your kitten?" Ty asked, watching me watch the pets.

I picked a feather off my jeans. "Her name is Lovey." I mumbled the rest of the sentence under my breath.

"What was that?" He leaned forward carefully, as to not tip the sawhorse.

"I said, her name is Lovey."

"The part after that."

"Short for Lovebug."

He laughed and I rolled my eyes. Which only made him laugh louder.

"What's so funny?" Willa Jo shouted.

"Lovebugs!" I yelled back.

"Oh! Okay then."

Ty and I shared a smile. He said, "I'm going to get the third degree on the way home."

"You might get it before you leave. We both might."

The dogs started barking, then the ducks quacking. There was a loud splash, then they all quieted. Ty used the side of his fork to cut a bite off the cake. "So, do I need to start looking for a forever home for Lovebug?"

"Start?" I asked. "I thought you already were."

He shrugged. "Had a gut feeling I might not have to look far."

"You know a sucker when you see one?"

"I know a gentle soul when I see one."

My eyebrows went up. "Do you now?"

With a guilty smile, he nodded. "But sometimes it takes a while. I'm a slow learner."

I could only shake my head at that and wonder if he had any clue I could see the good in him.

He took a bite of the cake, closed his eyes, and sighed. I could practically see the glimmers of hope and optimism working their magic. "Miss Verbena's outdone herself with this cake."

Inwardly, I did a little jig. "She sure has."

He didn't need to know I'd been the one who made it. It was enough for me to see his reaction. It healed another piece of my heart.

"I overheard everyone talking earlier about you quitting your job," he said, shoveling another bite of cake into his mouth. "That's a big change."

I dug my toe into the ground, made a small hole. "There's something terrifying about starting over, but it's time."

I'd called my boss this morning to let him know. Then, I'd called a real estate friend to get the ball rolling on listing my condo.

It was time to come home for good.

The Sugarbirds had been all aflutter with the news, encas ing me in a group hug that nearly suffocated me with the love they gave so freely.

He polished off the rest of the cake slice, then dragged the fork over the plate to catch any crumbs. "It's not starting over. It's starting from experience."

"I like that better."

"I saw it once in a fortune cookie. It stuck."

I laughed, not sure I believed him. "Fair enough."

He took a sip of the sweet tea, then lifted an eyebrow. "Is this spiked?"

"That's something you're going to have to ask Pinky and her flask."

He glanced over his shoulder, as if he could see the patio through the duck coop. "How many glasses has my mama had?"

"I lost count."

He made to stand up, and I grinned. "I'm kidding! She's only had one." That I'd seen at least.

"She's going to be the death of me." He took another sip of the tea and held up the glass. "It's not half bad."

"That's because the first sip numbs your taste buds."

"That makes more sense." He licked his fork clean, then kicked at the ground. Finally, he said, "I'm glad you're moving back. The town needs more good-hearted folk like you."

I lifted an eyebrow, eyed his glass.

He laughed. "It's not the liquor talking, I swear. Might be helping me say it, though."

"Then, thanks."

"You know, I'm ashamed to admit that in all the time I've known you, I never once thought about what it must've been like to live under the same roof as Winchester. I got a good glimpse of it Saturday night, and it made me sick to my stomach. I'm real sorry, Tessa Jane. For not ever noticing, and for what you went through."

I looked away, not wanting him to see the tears in my eyes. "It's okay."

"It's not, actually. But there's that good heart showing itself again."

I took a deep breath. "I wanted to thank you for standing up for me at the dance. I really appreciated it."

He shook his head. "That man…"

"I know," I said sadly. I blew out a breath and eyed the duck house. "Looks like you're just about done here."

He accepted the change of subject. "It'll be finished today. Unless Miss Verbena wants it painted. I can do that next weekend."

Before I could think twice about it, I said, "She was already making noise about painting it but hasn't decided on a color."

Truth be told, she hadn't said a peep about paint, so I was going to have to plant that seed right quick.

"Then I guess I'll be coming back."

"I guess so." We locked gazes for a long minute before I stood up. "Let me take those dishes for you."

"I can bring them inside," he said, standing, too. "I wanted to say hello to my namesake anyway."

As we walked toward the patio I tried to act like I didn't notice all the eyes on us. "Are you going to be insufferable about her name from here on out?"

He grinned. "Forever and ever."

Aunt Bean was in the middle of waggling her eyebrows at me when her phone rang. She'd been keeping it nearby all day, waiting on her doctor to call.

We all froze as she picked the phone, squinted at the caller ID.

Then she looked at all of us. "It's the cardiology office."

"Don't just sit there like a bump on a log," Delilah said. "Put it on speakerphone!"

As Bean swiped to answer the call, I think I was the only one to notice that as she said hello, the starlings flew in and landed on the fence, as if they, too, wanted to hear what was about to be said.

Addie

The stars were out, shining bright. The ones in the sky. And the one in the ground.

It was a rare night that we closed the gates to visitors, but Aunt Bean insisted I have time to experience the starlight without a crowd. Once I was done, then we'd open the gates so others could experience the enchanting light as well.

It was just past full dark as Aunt Bean, Tessa Jane, and I stood at the entrance of the starwalk, watching the light dance, caught up in the beauty. Caught up in wondering what lay ahead for Aunt Bean.

Earlier, I'd arrived at the patio right in time to hear the tail end of Aunt Bean's conversation with her doctor. Her official diagnosis was congestive heart failure caused by viral cardiomyopathy, stage 3. She had an appointment to see the cardiologist later this week to talk more in depth about the diagnosis and possible treatments. Quick searches via Dr. Google were enough to make us shut down the laptop and cling to hope that with treatment and a whole lot of wishing and praying we'd get more time with her than the prognosis suggested.

But there was no denying her life was about to change. Diet, exercise, medication, possibly surgery for a pacemaker or even a transplant. Only time would tell how she'd weather it all, but I knew for certain that Tessa Jane and I would be by her side each step of the way.

"Ready?" Tessa Jane asked me.

The light danced, twisting and twirling. "As I'll ever be."

"I'll be right here waiting when you get out," Aunt Bean said, heading toward the lawn chair set up in the viewing area.

Tessa Jane held out her hand. I slipped mine into hers. Together we stepped into the light.

As we walked, side by side, I found myself smiling. The way the light played was absolutely entrancing. As it swirled, I felt lighter, like I was walking on air. My heart lifted, my mind cleared, and I lost myself, utterly charmed and captivated. The light was pure, beautiful, spiritual, magical .

By the time we exited the starwalk, I knew exactly how wrong I'd been about that light my whole life long.

And exactly what Tessa Jane and I needed to do to stop Winchester for good.