Page 25 of One Southern Summer

“And did she say yes?”

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see.” Cole turned toward the mayor. “What do you say we move some dirt?”

Mayor Caldwell nodded and grabbed a shovel. Cole heaved a sigh, thankful he didn’t have to answer any more questions. It probably wasn’t a wise move to bail so quickly, especially with a cliffhanger of an answer. But if the local press had already heard about Avery’s role in the project, what else did they know? Avery couldn’t find out about Nana’s contribution. Not now, not like this.

Of all the ways Avery had envisioned Pax resurfacing in her life, a random text message on an ordinary Tuesday morning wasn’t one she’d considered.

Hello, Avery. I’m going to be in Camellia, June 17th through the 23rd, promoting the book and reconnecting with family. I’d appreciate the opportunity to see the kids, especially since I’ll be around for Father’s Day.

The crayon slipped from her trembling fingers, landed on the table and rolled off the edge.

“Uh-oh.” Addison’s eyes widened. “I’ll get it.”

She slid off the chair, climbed under the table and found the crayon wedged in a groove in the porch’s floorboards. Blood roared in Avery’s ears as she watched Addison retrieve the crayon, but she couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. She could barely breathe.

Rubbing her fingertips along her collarbone, she read the message again. His imminent return to Camellia wasn’t a surprise, but his request to spend the weekend with the kids had flattened her. It wasn’t that she didn’t want him to see his children. He certainly had the right to maintain a relationship with them. But it had been so long since they’d heard from him. He had never even held his son. How could he just reenter their lives so casually?

“Here you go, Mama!” Addison plunked the crayon down on the coloring book. “I like your picture.”

“Thank you, baby,” Avery whispered. She smoothed her palm over Addison’s hair.

“Are you crying?” Addison studied her, leaning in extra close.

Avery bit her lip and shook her head. She wouldn’t let Addison see or hear anything about this. Not until she came up with a plan.

“Can we keep coloring?”

“Absolutely.”

Through the screen panels, the fragrance of flowers blooming in Mama’s garden floated on the breeze. Dark clouds crowded the horizon, blotting out the sunshine they had enjoyed during their short walk less than an hour ago.

“Mama.” Addison tapped her adorable little finger on the edge of Avery’s page, a half-finished picture of princesses attending a ball. “Color more, please. You haven’t finished their dresses yet. Here, use pink.”

“All right.” Avery accepted the crayon and complied with her daughter’s instructions, although she wasn’t a fan of the bossy tone. That was the least of her worries right now. First, she had to deal with Pax’s request. Thunder rumbled in the distance and her phone hummed with another incoming text.

No. I’m staying focused on being present with my daughter.

“You gots a message.” Addison paused, her purple crayon hovering over her own picture of a tea party.

“That’s okay. I’ll check it later. Thank you for letting me know.” Avery kept her voice calm, although her insides buzzed with a nervous energy that made her restless. Surely that wasn’t Pax again. Wouldn’t he give her more than seven minutes to respond when he had basically abandoned his family more than a year ago?

Please don’t call, she silently pleaded. Her phone was facedown on the wood table. It wouldn’t be easy to keep the caller ID concealed from Addison for long, though. The girl was quick. She couldn’t read, but she was smart enough to recognizeP-a-xon the screen.

The wind picked up, rippling the surface of the lake. Tree branches danced in the yard and Addison swiveled in her chair to look outside. “What’s happening?”

“Storm’s coming.” Avery used the distraction to her advantage and plucked her phone off the table. She tucked it into her dress pocket as Addison turned back around in her chair. “Let’s go in.” Addison flipped her coloring book closed then clutched it to her chest and scampered off the chair.

“Wait,” Avery said. “I need your help. Pick up the crayons, please.”

Thunder rumbled, closer this time, followed by a bolt of lightning that cut a jagged line across the angry sky. Addison squealed as she raced toward the door and disappeared inside the house. From the portable monitor on the table, Addison saw Hayes stirring in his crib. She sighed. The weight of Pax’s unanswered text bogged her down. Another clap of thunder provoked more squealing from Addison.

“Mama, hurry.” Addison hovered inside the sliding glass door, bouncing up and down on her toes.

“I’ll be right there.” Avery quickly gathered the rest of the coloring supplies and the monitor. Lightning flashed again and Addison burst into tears. Hayes started to cry, his unhappiness from being woken up evident by the tone of his wailing through the monitor’s speaker. Avery’s skin prickled. Her mother, Greer and her sisters were all out for a few hours. She hadn’t been home alone with her children hardly at all since they moved back. She’d quickly grown accustomed to having an extra person or two around for times like this when both kids needed attention.

“Come on, pumpkin, you can help me get Hayes up from his nap.” Avery stepped inside the house and slid the door closed. She deposited the crayons and coloring book on the kitchen counter then ushered Addison down the hall to the bedroom.

“I can do the diaper.” Addison squeezed past Avery’s legs and pushed the door open. “Baby Hayes, I’m here.”

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