Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

From the Kitchen of Verbena Fullbright

If adding fixins to your batter, like nuts, fruit, or chocolate chips, coat those bits in flour first to keep them from sinking to the bottom of your cake. Don't we all need a helpin' hand once in a while to keep from falling?

Tessa Jane

Lifting my wrap against the wind later that night, I stood on the front porch of my grandparents' house, what many around here called the mansion on the hill. It had been in Gigi's family for nearly a century.

Over the past year, Granddaddy had commissioned a complete renovation, and it broke my heart thinking about all the little pieces of Gigi that were now gone. Like her embroidered throw pillows, the oil paintings of her beloved horses, and even the china that had belonged to her grandmother. He hadn't even asked Mama or me if we'd wanted anything before turning her possessions over to a Birmingham auction house. Everything had been sold before we even knew it had been removed.

It seemed to me that Granddaddy was trying his hardest to erase Gigi from his life. And from ours, too.

"Tessa Jane, I have a question for you," Gigi had said to me only a few years ago, when I'd visited for her birthday. "Please know you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

We'd been in her suite of rooms on the second floor of the west wing of the house, the patio doors open. She had the per fect view of the starlight crater from her living area, and when I was little and still lived here, we'd often curl up on her couch and watch the light shimmer in the distance. It had been one of our favorite things to do together.

"What's the question?" I'd asked, suddenly worried about her tone of voice.

She'd held my hand tightly, her skin thin and feathery soft, her gentle blue eyes troubled. "Your granddaddy. Do you see any good in him, sweetheart?"

She was one of the few who knew about the Fullbright ability to see the inner light, the goodness, in people. But it was the first time she'd ever asked me about my assessment of a specific person.

As I stood here on the porch, my throat ached with emotion. What I would do to have her back, to hold her hand, to watch the starlight with her once again.

I leaned against one of the columns and looked upward. Tonight, the stars were hidden behind low, thick clouds. A quarter inch of snow had fallen during the afternoon but melted as soon as it had hit the ground. Temperatures were predicted to dip below freezing over the next few hours, which would ice the roads, making travel treacherous. I planned to be back at Bean's long before then, tucked onto the couch with her and Addie and Hambone. I was already dreaming of the sundae I planned to eat, made of smashed Grasshopper cookies, chocolate ice cream, and fudge sauce. Lots of fudge sauce.

Unbidden, a memory of Ty drifted into my head. It was when he'd spotted Miss Ernie on her kitchen floor and I'd been able to see how good a man he was.

It was the first inner light I'd seen in almost a year.

Snowflakes blew about, few and far between. I tried to catch one on my fingertip, but kept missing. Since it wasn't technically the first snow, snagging one wouldn't guarantee happiness, but I didn't think it could hurt to try.

Happiness, like fun, had been sparse lately.

Bundled up against the cold, the parking valet watched me from his post near the porte cochere. He'd assisted me out of my car five minutes ago and was probably wondering why I hadn't yet gone inside.

Or maybe since he worked for my grandfather he understood perfectly.

I would tip him well on my way out—because I knew he wasn't getting paid near enough. Granddaddy was a scrooge. Once when I was younger, I asked my mama about it, questioning why someone with so much could be so stingy to those with so little. She told me she believed it was because when he was a boy he had nothing, so now he wanted to hold on to everything, afraid to lose it all again.

My heart always broke when I thought of my granddaddy as a young boy. His mama had died when he was a toddler, and his daddy had never been around, often floating in and out of jail for one scheme or another. He'd been raised by a cousin, who wasn't really interested in having another mouth to feed but felt duty-bound to care for her kin. It wasn't long before Granddaddy started following his father's footsteps, landing in the county jail several times and gaining a reputation for being trouble.

Finding Abner's journal had given him the purpose he'd been lacking in life. He knew he had to clean up his act, at least outwardly, if he wanted to accomplish his goal of owning the starlight crater one day. He had to be taken seriously. He needed to be rich. Powerful. Because he knew the Fullbrights weren't going to let go of that land willingly.

And he knew exactly how he, with hardly any schooling and a rap sheet, would make that happen.

At twenty-three, he found a job at a local dairy as a farmhand and started working his way up. By twenty-six, he was delivering milk to customers around town.

It was a job that allowed him direct contact with Gigi, a known recluse. And who, at thirty-eight years old, was the wealthiest person in the county.

After a year of small talk every time he made a delivery, he made her an offer she probably should've refused.

But then again, if she'd refused, I wouldn't be here, standing on this porch delaying the inevitable.

At the end of the long driveway, headlights appeared, glowing bright in the darkness. Another guest arriving. I turned back toward the massive front doors and told myself to ring the bell. Get it over with.

But as I reached for the buzzer, the door swung open. "I didn't think you were ever going to come inside."

"Mama!" I rushed forward, and threw my arms around her. "What are you doing here?"

She despised coming home since Gigi had passed. My grandmother had often been the buffer between Mama and Granddaddy. The soft middle between two hard heads.

"Reinforcement for you, of course." She put her arm around me and ushered me into the house. "You shouldn't have to deal with him alone."

It was impossible not to notice the changes in the entryway from the last time I'd been here. The oak floors were gone, replaced with slate. All the trim was painted black, and the walls were now a deep green. Modern art pieces were scattered about. Large abstract paintings practically covered the wall where family portraits used to hang.

After taking my wrap from my shoulders she handed it to one of the uniformed staff passing by. She lifted an eyebrow as she eyed my dress. "Vintage?"

She wore an exquisite black sheath dress with a sequined bodice. Her blond hair was pulled back in a sleek twist and diamonds hung from her ears. Circling her left wrist was a thin gold bangle she rarely removed. A casual observer might think the band was engraved with a chevron pattern. But if one looked closely, they'd see there were actually eighteen starlings circling the gold bracelet.

"Yes," I lied to save myself from explaining.

She gave a half smile. "It's sweet."

I knew by her reaction she wished I'd chosen something different—something my granddaddy couldn't nitpick—but I couldn't recall the last time I'd felt this comfortable in a dress. I swished the full blue skirt. "I love it."

"Remember that when your grandfather sees it. He's trying to hide a bad mood behind a thin smile and a whiskey neat."

It was rare day when he wasn't in a bad mood. Sulky and thunderous were his natural states. He was only charming when he wanted something. Which was why he almost never raised his voice to me. I had something he wanted badly.

"Half the guests have canceled due to the weather," Mama said. "Brave souls. He's probably plotting a way to have their electricity cut."

A jazz trio was set up in the parlor and people milled around. We stood out of the way, not yet ready to join the fray.

She said, "How's your week been? How's Verbena?"

My mama had always had a fondness for Aunt Bean—they'd become close after I was born.

"She's tired—moving a lot more slowly than her usual full steam ahead. Her echocardiogram results haven't come in yet. Or if they have, she hasn't shared them. She's been putting on a brave, happy face around Addie and me."

"And Addie?" My mama lifted an eyebrow. "How is she?"

"Being surprisingly nice."

"Really?"

I heard the tone of distrust in her voice. "I don't know what to make of it either. But it feels… genuine."

"Have you considered it's an act to protect the starlight? She has to have considered what's likely to occur on your birthday."

I dug my nails into my palms and felt a splotch of heat on my neck.

Mama noticed the hive immediately and her gaze narrowed. "You will be letting the field go, correct? This was decided a long time ago, Tessa Jane."

I lifted my chin. " I never decided anything."

Mama glanced around nervously. "Lower your voice before he hears you talking like that. Have you forgotten what's at stake? This is no time to change your mind."

Both Granddaddy and my mama expected me to let the land go. Granddaddy wanted it for himself. Mama wanted the cash from the sale—which she knew I'd share.

The old me had simply nodded along to their plans, trying to keep the peace, trying to keep everyone happy.

But the new me was sick of people trying to twist my arm.

"Tessa Jane." Her tone made it clear I was displeasing her.

I absently scratched a hive as my temper flared. "Please don't."

I was supremely proud of myself for saying please.

"We've talked about this," Mama argued.

" You've talked."

"Think of all the peop—"

"No!" I snapped.

Heads turned our way, and my cheeks burned. More hives formed.

Mama pasted on a fake smile as an old neighbor approached, striking up a conversation about the snow. I checked the time, wondering if it was too soon to leave. I'd been inside less than ten minutes.

After the neighbor moved off to chat up someone else, Mama said, "How about a drink?"

As if we hadn't been arguing a moment ago.

I knew this tactic. Diversion. But I could really use a drink, so I nodded.

We moved as one through the crowd toward the bar set up in the dining room, and I kept a reassuring smile on my face, pretending all was well. Miss Pomona would be proud.

When Mama tipped her head in close to mine, I braced myself for a quiet lecture on helping others, but instead she whispered, "Is your bank deposit late this month?"

It took me a moment to switch my train of thought. Usually, our stipends from Granddaddy were deposited the fifteenth of the month—a week and a half ago. "I haven't seen one, but I also haven't been checking every day." I'd been busy with Aunt Bean. With baking. With the ducks and Hambone. Oh, how I wished Hambone was here with me, zooming through this crowd, poking his nose into everyone's business. "Do you think there was a mix-up because of the New Year?"

She flashed a smile to a passerby, then said, "It's possible."

She didn't sound convinced.

"Are you going to ask Granddaddy about it?"

"I'd rather chew broken glass. I'll call our lawyer first thing Monday morning to see if he can find out what's going on. This is a complication I don't need. That money was already earmarked. A roof repair in Charleston. A new air conditioning unit New Orleans. Urgent foundation issues at the newest roost in Biloxi. I'll have to pull from the contingency fund."

A roost, in Mama's vocabulary, was a safe house. There were nearly a dozen roosts all over the South owned by the Starling Society. All were located in bigger cities, where it was easier to hide.

"There's my girl!" Granddaddy suddenly bellowed. The crowd parted as he strode toward me. "A little late, aren't you, Tessa Jane?"

Steeling myself, I said, "Hi, Granddaddy!"

I didn't bother explaining why I was late, like the old me would have.

With a start I realized I was beginning to like the new me.

That wouldn't do. At all.

Granddaddy gave me a kiss on my cheek and a once-over.

I took a moment to study him as well. He was a stocky man, not particularly tall but strong, even in his midseventies. His expensive suit was cut and pressed to perfection. Wrinkles creased his forehead, his bald head shone, his blue eyes were alert, and his white mustache was perfectly trimmed, curling upward at its ends. When I was younger he'd reminded me of the Monopoly man. As I grew older, I wondered if he'd purposely copied the style. It radiated wealth.

Outwardly, he seemed in fairly good health except for the purplish hue around a bulbous nose that suggested he drank too much. Which he did. Always had.

A scowl formed as he took in my outfit. "What happened to the dresses I sent over?"

"Too small," I lied.

His thick eyebrows furrowed. "You are lookin' a bit healthy . I suppose that's what happens when you sit around and eat cake all day."

I clenched my teeth so hard I about broke a molar.

" Hmm ," Mama said loudly, an eyebrow lifted as she pointedly stared at his rounded stomach.

It wasn't like Mama to outright pick a fight, which showed that she was a woman on edge this evening. Money worries, no doubt.

Granddaddy's cheeks bloomed a deep red, and he puffed up like a turkey about to attack.

"Mr. Wingrove? Sir?" someone interrupted from behind him. "Is now a good time?"

Granddaddy schooled his countenance into a semblance of civility, then turned around. As he did, I noticed he had on one black shoe, one blue, both the same style. He was color blind and often had others double-check his outfits to make sure he wasn't making a fashion gaffe. He must've forgotten tonight.

I glanced around for Jenna, his assistant, who was probably the one most often consulted. I found her in a corner looking like she'd rather be anywhere else. Not that I could blame her. I didn't want to be here, either.

Granddaddy threw one arm around my shoulders and the other around Mama's. "It's a grand time, Graham!"

The man who'd interrupted raised a camera and snapped a picture, then another.

Granddaddy said to Mama and me, "Y'all remember Graham Doby? From the newspaper?"

"Of course," Mama said, full of natural charm. "Lovely to see you again."

"Hello," I said, not remembering him at all. And I hoped that in the photos, I would look less deer in headlights than I felt. I wasn't used to this house being filled with people, and I found I didn't like it. Gigi would've hated this party.

For most of her life, she'd battled a panic disorder that prevented her from leaving the house or the grounds. And she let only a few people in.

I once dared to ask my mama why Gigi had said yes to my grandfather's offer of marriage and she told me, "She said yes because she wanted to have a baby, and being in her late thirties, she was running out of time. Your grandfather's proposal made it clear their marriage was a business transaction, but I've always wondered if she hoped there would be more between them. Because with her money, she had other options. For a price, I'm sure a fertility clinic would have paid a visit here."

Granddaddy said, "Graham is writing up a piece about my mayoral run. Ain't that right, son? A win for Winchester. Hoo-rah!" He laughed, too loudly.

I wondered why now. Why hadn't he run for mayor in his forties, fifties? Had Gigi held him back? Or was this just a recent idea that popped into his head on whim and he was running with it?

Poor Graham gave a closed-lip smile and threw a look of longing at the bar. "That's right, sir."

Mama said, as gracious as always, "Graham, please let me know if I can contribute in any way, but for now, may I get you a cocktail?"

Graham visibly relaxed. "Much appreciated."

I wasn't sure if he was appreciative of Mama's offer of help or for the drink. I suspected the latter.

Granddaddy said, "I could use another drink myself."

It took effort not to roll my eyes. By the scent of him, he'd already had several.

"Tessa Jane?" Mama asked.

Granddaddy's unruly eyebrows furrowed again. He didn't like me drinking. Thought it was unbecoming of a young lady. I lifted my chin. "Wine would be lovely."

As I waited for the bartender to pour my glass, in my head, I heard Gigi say yet again, "Your granddaddy. Do you see any good in him, sweetheart?"

I'd stared into her blue eyes, my heart hurting because I didn't want to lie. So I hedged instead. "He's hard to read because his personality obscures the light."

Looking off in the distance, she nodded. "There's a poison deep within him, eating him from the inside out. It feeds off his innate feelings of inferiority and his fear of being poor again." She faced me. "If he could only get rid of that poison, I bet you'd see his light, clear as day. I know it's in there." Then she quietly added, "I hope it's in there."

I startled at a hand on my arm. "Tessa Jane?"

I snapped to, focused on my mama. "Yes?"

She whispered, "Are those tears in your eyes?"

I thumbed the moisture away. "Just dust."

Her gaze narrowed with worry.

Graham, I noticed, had slipped away. Lucky guy.

As I picked up the glass the bartender slid over and thanked him, Granddaddy said to Mama and me, "I want to show you something in my library. I think you'll be quite pleased. Come along."

Even though he had calmed, his anger alleviated by the reporter's attention, I had the uneasy feeling I wasn't going to be pleased at all by what he planned to show us.

We followed him past waitstaff carrying trays from the kitchen. At the end of a long hallway, he opened the library's door.

He cut on a light as we went inside. The scent of tobacco and leather filled the massive room that was lined with bookcases and tall windows. One of the leather sofas had been pushed aside, and in its place now stood a square table. On that table sat an architectural model of what looked like a small town.

He gestured toward the three-dimensional piece. "I took the liberty of having my vision for the land surrounding the starlight brought to life. Isn't it magnificent?"

I took a sip of wine, noticed my hand shaking, and set the glass on a side table.

Mama said, "Are those row houses ?"

"It's an upscale planned community called The Wingrove," he said, his words very slightly slurred. " Where stars gather ."

I could barely breathe. Anger crackled in my chest, sharp and painful.

He pointed toward the model. "There will be shops, dining, housing, office space. A theater. A boutique hotel. A waterpark."

I touched the edge of the model, my voice a rasp as I said, "What happened to the woods?"

The woods where the starlings spent most of their time.

Amber liquid sloshed in his cup. "Razed to make way for the golf course. This design utilizes every inch of those five hundred acres."

My stomach rolled, and I pushed a hand against it to quell the nausea.

"And this?" Mama asked, pointing to a building practically built atop the star crater.

"It's the visitor center," he said, "where guests will have a choice of diamond adventure packages and pick up the equipment they'll need for mining."

My head snapped up.

He took a pull from his whiskey glass, then pursed his lips. "Now, Tessa Jane, don't go getting riled up."

Fury flooded my veins, and my hands curled into fists that I hid in the tulle skirt.

Mama lifted her chin, her gaze challenging. "And what happens when there aren't any found? Because we all know stars aren't made of diamonds."

He grinned. "There will be diamonds found. I'll make sure of it."

His intention was clear. He was going to plant gemstones for people to find.

I wanted to remind him that digging up the starlight field would make the light disappear, but I knew he didn't care.

There was disgust in my mama's voice as she said, "Mother would be appalled that you're using her money to trick people. Have you no shame?"

Gigi had been as enamored with the field as he was, but for different reasons. She adored the legend behind it, the clarity found in the light, and its sheer beauty. She'd encouraged Granddaddy's plans to bring more attention to the field—but only in a way that wouldn't disturb its magic.

When I was little, she'd whisper, almost reverently, about how lovely it would be if there was a café overlooking the aurora, where people could sit and sip and enjoy and bask in the peace of the starlight. And a gift shop, too, because she'd always had a fondness for the trinkets her parents would bring back to her after they went on vacation.

As she spoke, I'd envisioned those enchanting shops, and began wishing they were real.

It was one of the reasons I'd never shut down my granddaddy's talk about buying the land. Part of me wanted to make Gigi's vision come true.

But what he had planned now… She would be horrified.

His face flushed. His chest puffed out. "I'll remind you it's my money now, to do with as I see fit."

Gigi's voice suddenly drifted into my thoughts. If he could only get rid of that poison, I bet you'd see his light, clear as day.

Suddenly I knew why Gigi had willed all her money to Granddaddy. To rid him of his fears about being poor, to rid him of the poison eating him up. Only, it hadn't worked. Probably because money wasn't the fix.

Granddaddy jabbed a finger in Mama's direction. "And if you want to ever see a cent of that money again you'll keep your mouth shut where your mother is concerned. I'm sure you're already feeling a financial pinch this month. Get used to it. You'll be feeling it again next month, too."

Outrage lit Mama's blue eyes, making them spark. "You're withholding the checks on purpose?"

The darkness that had been surrounding me for so long now swirled like a dust devil, practically lifting me off my feet. "Why would you do that?"

"Consider it an insurance policy in case you go getting second thoughts now that Verbena's playing the sick card. Bless her enlarged heart ," he said bitterly.

"You can't do that." Panic was written across Mama's face. She needed that money.

He finished off his drink. "I can. I have."

"But, Gigi wanted you to continue—" I started.

"I think I made myself clear, Tessa Jane," he suddenly roared. Then he quieted to a deadly whisper as he leaned in close to me, his sweet whiskey breath whistling between thin lips. "But in case I didn't, I'll lay it out plain as day for you. If you don't decline ownership of that land on your birthday, you and your mama will both get cut off completely . You'll never see another damn dime. Not ever . Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to be getting back to my guests."