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“And I guess they just love it, too, right?”
“They seem to. I see them gallivanting all over town in it.”
“My grandparents do not gallivant.”
“Oh, yes, they do.”
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot you know more about their lifestyle than I do, because I haven’t bothered to keep up with them.”
“That about tells it like it is,” he said, but he held up a hand at her warning glare. “Look, as you so sweetly pointed out, it’s none of my business, your relationship with your folks. I can only tell you what I’ve seen in the last few weeks since I moved here. They were lonely and they’re getting on in years. That farmhouse is kind of isolated out there on the edge of town. I’ve visited them several times since I moved into the house, just to let them see how the renovations are coming along, and they seem very content at Golden Vista.”
“I can’t picture that,” Summer said, remembering how her grandfather loved to plant a big garden, just so he could give his crop away to half of Henderson County. And her grandmother—she loved to cook and quilt, can vegetables and sew pillows, make clothes and crafts. How could she do all those things cooped up in some cracker box of an apartment?
Summer dropped her head into her hand. “I just have to talk to them.”
Mack stopped the truck, then pointed toward a huge, park-like courtyard in the middle of the complex. “Well, there they are, right over there.”
Summer looked up to find a large group of senior citizens milling around in Hawaiian shirts and straw hats. Tiki torches burned all around the festive courtyard, while island music played from a loudspeaker. The smell of grilled meat hit the air, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
“What in the world?”
“It’s a luau,” Mack said. “They have these theme parties once a month. Last month, it was Texas barbecue, and I think next month is Summer Gospel Jam—”
“I’ve heard enough,” Summer said, opening the rickety truck door with a knuckle-crunching yank. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this mess.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Mack said, his grin widening.
“Do you find this humorous?” Summer asked as they met in front of the truck.
“Kinda,” he said, then he turned more serious.
Probably because she had murder in her eyes. “I’d advise you to stop grinning.”
He did. “You don’t like change, do you?”
She lifted a brow. “I can handle change just fine, thank you. What I don’t like is when people manipulate my perfectly respectable, God-fearing grandparents. Especially when it’s my own parents.”
“I don’t think they were manipulated,” Mack said as he pulled her toward the feisty-looking group of old people. “I think they just got tired of the upkeep on the house and farm, and they decided to relax and have some fun.”
“It’s just horrible,” Summer retorted, not buying his explanation at all. “You’re laughing about a situation I find very serious.”
“Well, maybe you just take things way too seriously.”
She stopped, blocking his way toward the party. “My poor, hardworking grandparents are trapped in this…this one-foot-in-the-grave travel stop. And I refuse to believe—”
“Summer? Is that my sweet baby, Summer?”
Summer stopped in midsentence, then turned to stare at the stout woman running…well, gently jogging…toward her. “Memaw?”
“It’s me, suga’. Land’s sake, we didn’t know you were coming for a visit. C’mere and give your old granny a good hug.”
Summer took in the hot-pink flamingoes posed across the wide berth of her grandmother’s floral muumuu, took in the bright yellow of the shiny plastic lei draping her memaw’s neck, then glanced down at her grandmother’s feet.
“Memaw, are you wearing kitten-heeled flip-flops?”
“Ain’t they cute?” Martha Creswell said as she enveloped Summer in a hug that only a grandmother could get away with. “And take a look at my pedicure,” she said as she wrapped her arms around Summer. “My toenails are sparkling—Glistening Party Pink, I think the beautician called it.”
Her grandmother’s tight-gripped hug just about smothered Summer, but the sweet, familiar scent of Jergens lotion caused tears to brim in Summer’s eyes. She pulled away to smile down at her petite grandmother. “Oh, Memaw, what have they done to you?”
“Not a thing,” Martha replied, laughing out loud. “Honey, I’m fine, just fine. But wait until you see your grandpa, sugar. He’s been on that new diet, don’t you know. Trim and slim and wired for action.”
“Wired for action? Papaw?” Summer had a bad feeling about this whole setup. A very bad feeling.
Chapter Three
Summer looked her grandmother over from head to toe. Martha Creswell looked healthy and happy. Memaw had always been on the voluptuous side, but now she fairly glowed with energy and good health.
“Have you been taking your blood pressure medicine, Memaw?”
Martha patted her on the arm. “Of course, darling. But the doctor tells me I’m doing better than ever.” Then she held up her arm like a weight lifter. “Pumping iron and water aerobics. I’ve lost fat and gained muscle.”
Summer wondered at that, but she couldn’t argue with her grandmother. Before she could pose another question, Martha pulled her along. “I see you’ve met Mack here.” Then Martha stopped in midstride, causing her colorful muumuu to pool around her legs. “Oh, my. That means you know about the house.”
Summer held her grandmother’s arm. “Yes, I had to hear about it from him.” She shot a scowl toward Mack. “Why didn’t y’all let me know?”
Martha shook her head. “It happened kind of fast—”
Summer interrupted her with a loud hiss of breath. “I knew it. Daddy pressured y’all, didn’t he?”
Martha looked confused. “Well, no, not really—”
“Summer, my little pea blossom!”
The loud voice announcing her grandfather caused Summer to whirl around and brace herself for another hug. “Papaw!”
Summer took in the Hawaiian shirt and khaki Bermuda shorts, the stark white socks and strappy leather sandals, just before her grandfather picked her up off her feet and whirled her around.
“It is so good to see you, suga’.”
Her breath cut off, Summer settled back on her feet to look up at her lovable grandfather. “Papaw, what’s going on here?”
He waved a hand in the air. “A luau. You hungry?”
Tears misted in Summer’s eyes. That wasn’t exactly what she’d meant. “Yes, but—”
“Then come on over here and let’s get you a plate. We got grilled pork and chicken, and fruit and vegetables for miles—most from my garden out back—”
“You still have a garden?”
Martha piped up as they escorted Summer toward the curious crowd. “He sure does. Everyone here calls your Papaw the Garden King. He’s in charge of the garden for the whole village. Came in and took over the one they had planted. Made that puny garden spring right to life.”
“That’s nice,” Summer said, raising her eyebrows at Mack Riley’s triumphant I-told-you-so smile. “I’m glad you still have that, at least.”
Her grandmother stopped right before they headed into the throng of vivid floral polyester and orthopedic shoes. “Honey, we’ve got lots to tell you, but that can all wait until later. Right now, I want you to meet some of our friends here at Golden Vista. We just love it here.”
Summer blinked back her tears. “I’m glad, Memaw.”
But she wasn’t so glad. She was fast going into sensory overload, her unresolved resentment at her parents ever-building inside her tired, steamed bones. Since the night she’d broken things off with Brad, she’d longed to be back here in Athens, at home, safe in the house she’d loved all her life, with the grandparents who’d taken her in without questions or judgment and given her unconditional love.
She’d suffered right along with April back in the spring, when April’s father, Stuart Maxwell, had passed away, and Summer was still feeling the effects of that and her ugly breakup with Brad Parker. Uncle Stuart had always been larger than life and so much a part of Summer’s world, that her grief had been overwhelming at times. But, she reminded herself as she took in the colorful decorations and the festive tiki-themed party plates and cups, her cousin April was happy now. Happy in Paris, Texas, near Reed Garrison, the man she’d always loved. They were getting married in September.
Reed, who’d always been the boy next door, would soon be April’s husband. And April would be moving into his house. They had grand plans for the Big M Ranch. They were going to turn it into some sort of vacation resort, because April wanted it to be filled with happy people, and she also wanted to honor her mother by showcasing her artwork there. The Big M certainly would make a lovely, peaceful vacation spot, but even that was changing way too fast for Summer to comprehend.
Summer wanted to be happy for her cousin, but lately, she’d been in a blue fog of regret and resentment, causing even her best intentions to go sour.
Which was why she’d taken this leave of absence to drive home. She’d needed some time to think about her life. In spite of the stress of her job, she didn’t like feeling bitter and resentful all the time. She wanted to be happy again.
But now she had to worry about her grandparents.
And him, of course.
The man who’d stepped in and bought her grandparents’ home right out from under them.
She cast a glance toward Mack Riley, trying to stay unaware of his rugged, craggy good looks and his gentle, smiling gray-blue eyes. But she was very aware, because the man looked at her with all the intensity of a lone wolf out on the prowl. A wounded wolf, she decided.
How she knew this, Summer couldn’t picture. But she could almost see that something inside him that drew her to him. She’d seen that look in enough hurting people in the city. And it reflected that empty, unsettled spot deep inside her own soul.
“So you met Mack?” her grandfather said, echoing her grandmother’s earlier question. “A good man, this one. Salt of the earth.”
“Yes, we met,” Mack said, answering for both of them. “Summer wanted to see you two right away, though.”
“That’s so nice of you, to drive her over here, Mack,” her grandmother said, her smile beaming with maternal pride and matchmaking sparks. “Wasn’t that nice of him, Summer?”
Summer didn’t comment. She couldn’t. She felt a huge suffocating lump in her throat. Mack was right. She didn’t like change. Not at all. And she certainly didn’t like being put on the spot. She was spinning out of control, and she suddenly felt lost and all alone.
This was too much, all at once, out of the blue like this. She wanted to go back, way back, to her childhood. To her room on the second floor of that old house. To frilly pink curtains blowing in the wind, to the fresh smell of line-dried sheets and gardenias from her grandmother’s garden beside the back door, to the secure knowledge that they’d have biscuits and gravy and fried chicken for dinner, and some sort of fresh fruit cobbler for dessert on Sunday, right after church. She wanted to go back to family picnics down by the stream, and her grandparents laughing and each holding one of her hands as they walked down the dirt lane toward the blackberry bushes and the plum trees.
But she couldn’t go back.
Summer looked up as Mack came to stand beside her. “Are you okay with all of this?” he asked, his eyes gentle and seeking.
“Do I look okay?” she managed, her voice grainy and strained, her eyes burning with tears she wouldn’t shed.
“You look just fine. Maybe a bit tired and travel-weary.”
She let out a struggling laugh. “I am that. Travel-weary. Very travel-weary.”
Martha heard her comment. “Well, you’re home now, darling. You’re home and you’re safe.”
Summer almost did cry then, but the look of sympathy in Mack Riley’s eyes stopped her cold. She wouldn’t have that nervous breakdown today, after all. Instead, she flared her nostrils. “Where’s the beef?”
Martha pushed Summer toward three very curious women who’d been watching them. “Summer, I want you to meet Lola, Cissie and Pamela. Lola is our director here at Golden Vista. Cissie is her administrative assistant and office manager and Pamela is our activities coordinator.”
“So wonderful to meet you,” blond-haired Lola said, extending her hand to Summer. “Your family has done so much for Golden Vista.”
“Yes,” Cissie said, her short red hair glistening in the sun. “We just love your grandparents. And your parents are always so helpful when they come to visit.”
“Really?” Summer asked, surprised to hear that.
“Oh, they love to cart the residents around,” Pamela answered, her blue eyes twinkling. “They take them all over. Road trips, shopping excursions.”
“Well, you just never know,” Summer replied, amazed that her parents even bothered.
“C’mon, now,” her grandfather said, tugging her toward the table full of food. “You need to eat more.”
“But ain’t she still as pretty as a summer day?” Martha asked, her gaze trained with glee on Mack.
Mack lifted his chin. “Is that how she got her name?”
Martha nodded. “It suits her, don’t you think?”
“Perfectly,” Mack said, his eyes locking with Summer’s.
Summer suddenly lost her appetite.
Mack couldn’t eat another bite. These fun-loving senior citizens kept filling his plate with piles of food, and he gratefully ate every morsel, maybe because he had a lot of nervous energy and eating seemed to help curb that, maybe because he couldn’t stop staring at Summer Maxwell, and wondering what would happen next with this volatile, intriguing woman.
Who knew she’d be so…pretty.
Summer had the look of a leggy California blonde, but she had the brash nature of a purebred Texan. She wasn’t going to take anything lightly. Especially him moving into her grandparents’ house.
Mack wanted to explain things to her, but he held back. It probably wouldn’t matter anyway. Once he had her settled, wherever she decided to land, he wouldn’t have any excuses for seeing her again. She’d visit with her folks, get some rest, then go back to her life in New York.
He’d certainly heard all about that life from her grandparents. A loft apartment with her two cousins in Tribeca, a stressful job as a social worker at one of the toughest YWCAs in the city, a social life that went bad more than it turned out good. He still remembered Martha’s words to him just last week.
“Pray for my granddaughter, Mack. Summer is hurting so much and I can’t get through to her. She needs to remember to lean on the Lord, but she thinks everyone has let her down, even God. My daughter Elsie, she doesn’t understand Summer the way I do. Those two are as different as night and day.”
Night and day. Maybe that’s how he and Summer would be, too. Two very different people forced together under awkward circumstances. She’d never forgive him for buying Jesse and Martha’s house. He’d never be able to make her see that he’d needed a place to heal because he’d been let down a lot, too.
Summer found a quiet spot away from the party. Pulling out her cell phone, she checked to see if she had any messages. None. Quickly, Summer text-messaged her cousin Autumn in New York.
U won’t believe. GPs in retirement home. No house. Not sure what 2 do now.
She hit Send and let out a sigh.
“What are you doing?”
Summer whirled to find Mack Riley leaning on a gazebo post, his cool gray-blue eyes trained on her.
