Sweet Tea and Secrets (15 page)

“He was. He did his four years and came back. Hey, it’s kind of funny that I’m getting married before you, isn’t it?”

Thanks for making me feel like an old maid
, Jill thought. “Well, timing is everything.”

“I guess.” Elsie stroked her ring finger. The newness of the ring obviously hadn’t worn off yet. “Speaking of timing, Garrett isn’t here. He had to go to town this morning.”

“Oh. Did he just leave?”

“No, he left earlier this morning. He wasn’t here long, grabbed some paperwork and left around nine.”

That would have been soon after he left her place. Maybe he’d been telling the truth after all, but then she’d never known him to be a liar.

“When should he be back?” Jill asked, but her mind was filled with the big question.
If it wasn’t Garrett that locked her in the attic, then who?

“Not sure. He called a while ago. Some problem at the courthouse. One of his permits is hung up.” Elsie paused. “You okay? You look kinda’ pale all of a sudden.”

“No. Yeah, I’m fine,” Jill answered, only half paying attention to Elsie as her mind raced back to the attic and what could’ve happened.

“Can you stick around? I’ll show you my engagement party and shower pictures. It was the best shower ever.”

“I’d love that.” Elsie had been a pest when they were kids. She’d wanted to do anything and everything that Jill did. Since Aunt Milly and Pearl were best friends, so Elsie usually got her way.

“Cool. I’ve got them in my car.” Elsie raced for the front door, thrilled to share her big plans with her hometown idol.

Jill took in the grandeur of the front office. The room had a floor-to-twelve-foot ceiling fireplace that would warm the space with no problem at all, with room for fifty guests easy. The furniture was high quality. She ran her fingers across the soft leather. Sturdy, thick leather hide too, not the cheap thin stuff that smushes under your fingers.

Curious, she peeked into the corner office.

Her breath caught. Mary Claire’s hand painted sign hung framed on the wall next to the bookcase, but that wasn’t all. The special pine needle basket Jill had woven around the antlers from one of the bucks Garrett shot the winter of 2002 took the honor of the center shelf. The buck had been a 12-pointer and Garrett had been so proud of that trophy deer. The project had taken her nearly five months to complete, and trying to keep it a secret had nearly killed her. Flanking the antler basket were pieces of pottery she’d thrown and fired in 2006 in a blue that had become her signature color. The first plate she’d ever fired and woven with green pine needles around the edges was propped on a fancy wooden shelf. Modeled after an Indian piece she’d seen in a picture at the library, she’d won a ribbon for that plate at the State Fair. Garrett had kept them all.

The strong smell of leather and furniture polish didn’t hide the spicy smell of his aftershave. Not the fancy high dollar stuff that Bradley splurged on, but the same scent Garrett’s dad, and probably his dad’s dad, had worn over the years. The kind you could still buy at the drug store. Like Garrett, the scent was spicy and manly, fresh and familiar. She inhaled the welcome scent as she looked at the sketches tacked on a bulletin board next to photographs of homes in various states of completion.

He was a remarkable architect and builder, no denying that. A large easel held a thick board with color drawings of a neighborhood. Garrett was living the dreams they’d once shared, without her. She grabbed the back of the desk chair, trying to saddle the emotions kicking up.
Why did I think his life would stand still after I left?

The walls closed in on her a bit. She sat in the big chair behind his desk. She spun toward the desk and laid her forearms on the cool wood.
In through the nose, out through the mouth
, she repeated as she tried to convince her body to relax.

When she lifted her head, her own image stared back at her from the corner of his desk. In a frame was the picture of her with Garrett at the Pork Festival. The same one Pearl had on her mantle. She grabbed the picture and held it to her chest.
He hasn’t moved on.

Jill heard Elsie come back into the building, then call from the front room.

Jill stiffened momentarily then scrambled to get the picture back in its place.

“In here.” Jill lifted her eyes towards the door trying to look relaxed.

Elsie practically skipped into the office. “Here you are.”

“You said to make myself at home, right?” How embarrassing to be caught in Garrett’s office.

“Sure.” Elsie opened the photo album on the desk. “Here are the pictures from the shower. Look there’s Pearl and Aunt Milly.” Her smile waned. “Oh dear, you know me. I can get so wrapped up in myself. I’m sorry about Pearl.”

Jill slid a sisterly arm around Elsie. “It’s okay. Trust me. I need the escape.”

Elsie rambled on about the bridal shower, flipping through picture after picture of the gathering. Pearl had frozen mint leaves and raspberries into ice cubes, and Milly made her famous sugared fruit to adorn the table. Nobody ever ate the beautiful fruit decorations. They were just too pretty to eat.

“Do you think I’m planning everything by the book? I don’t want to screw this up. I can’t tell you how many hours I spent in the library trying to get all the rules down.”

“It’s your wedding, Elsie. You can do things however you like.” Jill reminded her.

“I know. I just want it to be perfect. I don’t want it to be one of those horrible
Country-Fried Weddings
on CMT that everybody laughs about.”

Jill had caught an episode of that show. Visions of brides in camouflage gowns and riding off on four-wheelers came to mind. She’d been to a few here in Adams Grove that had been close seconds to those fiascos. The unfortunate red-hoop-skirted bridesmaid from the day of Pearl’s surprise party came to mind. She couldn’t blame Elsie for her obsession on this point. She’d probably be the same way.

“Macy is going to do a big makeup makeover thingy with all my girlfriends instead of a bachelorette party. You have to come. It will be so fun. You know Macy is back in town, right?”

“Yes, I know.”

“It’s like all the cool people are coming back just in time for my wedding.”

Jill took that moment as her opportunity to get the heck out of there before Garrett got back. “I gotta’ run Elsie. Thanks for sharing all of this with me. You’ve already made some great memories.”

“I’ll let Garrett know you came by.”

“No.” Jill spun back around. “No need to do that. I’d rather surprise him.” Jill hoped Elsie would keep the secret. How would she explain her visit? She wasn’t a good liar, and that wasn’t a talent she cared to start practicing now.

“Oh, yeah, he would totally love that. He misses you, ya’ know. Still keeps your picture right there,” she pointed.

Jill glanced back toward the picture on Garrett’s desk. She hugged Elsie, promising to come back and visit before she went back to Savannah.

Her mind reeled the whole way home.

If Garrett wasn’t responsible for the incident in the attic, then who was?

Chapter Nine

Doink, doink-doink. The hollow sound of the rolled paper tube echoed as it bounced to the floor when Jill opened Pearl’s front door. Clyde ran towards her and picked up the tube, wagging his tail ready for the game.

“No, boy. I don’t think that’s for you. Drop it.” He did. He was smart. “Thanks, buddy.” She tugged a note from behind a red rubber band around the rolled papers.

J -

You were supposed to re-hide the hide-a-key somewhere else. Hope you don’t mind me dropping these by. I thought you’d get a kick out of them. I’ll check in later.

G

She must’ve just missed him. The rubber band sounded like a banjo as she rolled the elastic to the end while walking toward the dining room. She unrolled the stack of paper across the table, placing the centerpiece on the right end to hold them open.

Impressive
. There were six blueprints detailing the neighborhood of country homes with metal roofs and long covered porches. She’d seen these sketches in his office just moments ago, but had only caught a glimpse. Of course, he didn’t know that. When she’d suggested colored metal roofing two years ago he had pooh-poohed the idea saying tin roofs were cliché.

“Ah-ha, you did like my idea.” At least one of her ideas had gotten in. Their dream had been to build a sustainable agriculture community of homes where no property would be less than five acres. A local live-in barn manager would oversee a common livestock area and community crop-share so the neighbors could enjoy fresh vegetables each season. The development was the perfect way to satisfy the city slickers who wanted to come to their tiny town and sustain the agriculture that was such a big part of its charm. The best of both worlds. She’d convinced Garrett to incorporate an Artisan Center at the entrance of the neighborhood where she could have a studio herself and highlight other local talent, like Mary Claire and her art work, and hand-stitched quilts from the local quilters circle. The road frontage was on busy Route 58. The Artisan Center would provide a barrier between the homes and the traffic, and would generate business from those that traveled up and down the busy roadway.

The studio wasn’t in these plans, but that had been her passion, not Garrett’s.

She scrolled the top blueprint back and scanned the others below. They were incredible. The designs were large and breezy but the homes had purpose, not just square feet to add up to big spaces.

The last one in the stack was the plat showing about 250 acres with road frontage on US-58 and Bridle Path Way. One edge snugged right up against the Meherrin River. A nice piece of land, and nearby if she was looking at the survey right. The last of the large papers swirled back into a big loop.

She could picture the children working with their livestock for the annual 4-H show, or taking riding lessons then storing their tack in the huge barn. The community would be made up of happy families who appreciated the basics and understood what being neighborly was all about.

Since she’d left Adams Grove to work with Bradley, there’d been a string of extravagant parties, fancy clothes, shoes that cost more than a paycheck, and trips to exotic places she’d never heard of. But the kids that went to the Kase Foundation youth camps would benefit from her travels, and that was the most important part of it all to her. She collected special items in each of those swanky locations for the charity auctions. It had been rewarding to see the things she’d brought back bring top dollar, but the work never felt personally fulfilling. She’d never seen the final outcome of that work, not yet anyway.

My life is good. Why is it bugging me so much that Garrett’s living the dream I left behind?

A knock at the door brought her back from the daydream. She headed to the door and Clyde loped along behind her, his nails clicking at her heels.

When she opened the door and saw Garrett, she felt a twist of emotion. Sentiment and sarcasm both floated among her thoughts.

“Hey. How was your day?” Garrett stepped inside.

“Funny you should ask.”

“Why?”

“Let me show you something.” She motioned for him to follow her.

Clyde greeted him, nudging his nose under his hand.

“What is around your neck, ole’ boy?” Garrett bent on one knee. “A big manly dog like this can’t wear a pink towel.” He scrubbed the dog’s ears. “Man, what’s she doin’ to my boy?”

“Hey, he was slobbering on everything. The bib was a compromise.”

“It’s emasculating,” Garrett said.

Clyde barked in agreement.

“See.” Garrett rubbed Clyde’s ears. “Women just don’t get it, do they Clyde?”

“Oh please, do you want to see what I was going to show you or not?”

Garrett nodded and followed her down the hall, muttering words of support to Clyde the whole way about the sissy crocheted towel hanging damp around the dog’s neck.

When they reached Pearl’s bedroom, she gestured broadly in Vanna White style and stepped to the side so he could see the bed full of plaster. “Any questions?”

“How about ‘what the hell happened here?’” He examined the gaping hole in the ceiling then looked at her. “Are you okay?”