Pieces of the Heart

Table of Contents

 

 

“[White’s] prose is lyrical, and she weaves in elements of mysticism and romance without being heavy-handed. This is an accomplished novel about loss and renewal, and readers will be taken with the people and stories of Pawleys Island.”

—
Booklist

 

“The reader will hear the ocean roar and the seagulls scream as the past reluctantly gives up its ghosts in this beautiful, enticing, and engrossing novel.”

—
RT Bookclub Magazine
(4½ stars)

 

“A story as rich as a coastal summer . . . dark secrets, heartache, a magnificent South Carolina setting, and a great love story.”

—
New York Times
bestselling author Deborah Smith

 

“An engaging read with a delicious taste of the mysterious.”

—
New York Times
bestselling author Haywood Smith

 

“Karen White’s novel is as lush as the Lowcountry, where the characters’ wounded souls come home to mend in unexpected and magical ways.”

—Patti Callahan Henry, award-winning author of
Losing the Moon

 

 

“The fresh voice of Karen White intrigues and delights.”

—Sandra Chastain, contributor to
Blessings at Mossy Creek

 

“Warmly Southern and deeply moving.”

—Deborah Smith, author of
Charming Grace

 

“Karen White writes with passion and poignancy.”

—Deb Stover, award-winning author of
Mulligan Magic

 

“[A] sweet book . . . highly recommended.”

—
Booklist

 

“Karen White is one author you won’t forget. . . . This is a masterpiece in the study of relationships. Brava!”

—Reader to Readers Reviews

 

“This is not only romance at its best—this is a fully realized view of life at its fullest.”

—Readers & Writers Ink Reviews

 

“
After the Rain
is an elegantly enchanting Southern novel. . . . Fans will recognize the beauty of White’s evocative prose.”

—WordWeaving

 

“In the tradition of Catherine Anderson and Deborah Smith, Karen White’s
After the Rain
is an incredibly poignant contemporary bursting with southern charm.”

—Patricia Rouse, Rouse’s Romance Readers Groups

 

“Don’t miss this book!”

—
Rendezvous

 

“Character-driven and strongly written . . .
After the Rain
. . . marks Karen White as a rising star and an author to watch.”

—
Romantic Times Book Club Magazine

NAL Accent
Published by New American Library, a division of
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,
New York, New York 10014, USA
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:
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First published by NAL Accent, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

First Printing, April 2006

Copyright © Karen White, 2006

Conversation Guide copyright © Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 2006
All rights reserved

Fiction for the Way We Live
REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA

 

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA:

White, Karen (Karen S.)
Pieces of the heart/Karen White.
p. cm.

eISBN : 978-1-101-11865-8

1. Mothers and daughters—Fiction. 2. North Carolina—Fiction.
3. Domestic Fiction. I. Title.
PS3623.H5776P54 2006
813’.6—dc22 2005027372

 

 

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced,
stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

 

PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

 

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

With love to my wonderful Connor
because he says he deserves it,
and because he does.

A book populated by people who quilt and written by somebody who has never quilted in her life required lots of help. So thank you, Martha Murphy, for answering my sophomoric questions, and also to Lisa McGuire, who showed me my first memory quilt.

I would also like to acknowledge Dr. Leonard C. Viril, for his help regarding organ donations and the particulars of living with a heart transplant.

As always, thanks to Tim, Meghan and Connor, who still endure living with me despite the fact that they know what going through deadline dementia is like. I couldn’t do this without their love and support.

And thanks to Susan Crandall, Wendy Wax, Jenni Grizzle and Sandra Chastain—wonderful writers all, as well as fantastic readers who help me write the best book that I can.

C
AROLINE SAT AND WATCHED THE SMALL ROCK DROP FROM HER hand and into the dark, still water of Lake Ophelia, breaking the surface with a small plop. The ripples eddied out in tiny circles, gradually spreading into great gaping spheres of silent water, reaching out toward the depths of the lake until she couldn’t see them anymore. Not for the first time, it reminded her of how a single event in life could reach out forever, drowning you in a circle of memories that never let go.

Two children, a boy and a girl, ran out onto a dock two houses down on the same side of the lake, the girl’s shrieks echoing in the late-afternoon air as her brother maneuvered to push her in. Their mother stood behind them, saying something and shaking her head, but they ignored her until they both landed in the water, creating small waves that bumped into Caroline’s dock.

The mother spotted Caroline and waved before picking up discarded socks and sneakers. Caroline hesitated at first, then waved back. Out of habit, her hand fell to her chest to pull the neck of her T-shirt higher, and she felt the ridge of the old incision beneath her shirt.

She rested her cheek against drawn-up knees and stared at the fading waves as a chorus of cicadas erupted into sound, then quieted just as suddenly. She closed her eyes, seeing the lake against her dark eyelids.
I’ve missed the water.
She let a toe dip into the surface, smelling her own sweat and the green scent that hovered over the lake in late summer.
I’ve been gone too long from the water. And you, too, Jude. Always you.

The tap of her mother’s heels against the wooden dock announced her presence. Caroline didn’t turn around, but remained staring out at the lake toward Hart’s Peak in the near distance. The sky was clear enough that she could make out the face of the fabled Ophelia on the side of the mountain, a woman supposedly cursed and turned to stone centuries before.