Page 4 of One Southern Summer

Coming home had never felt so miserable.

Oh, she wanted to be happy for Mama. Really, she did. After scraping by for years as a single mother trying to support a family on a public school teaching salary, Mama deserved to marry a man who cherished her and provided a beautiful lakefront home. But Avery struggled to celebrate anyone else’s blessings since her life had unexpectedly nosedived. Her marriage had ended when she caught Pax with Trey in a compromising position in their laundry room. Divorce was final last month. She’d lost her husband, both her business partners and a solid chunk of retirement savings. Evidently, Trey not only had a thing for her husband, but he loved to overspend too. Thankfully she’d delivered a healthy baby boy, but grieving her failed marriage, trying to keep track of a precocious four-year-old and caring for a newborn by herself had nearly done her in.

Pax and Trey had wanted to keep filming their popular home renovation show, but she refused to sign on for a second season. How could she film a reality TV show when she couldn’t stand to be in the same room with them? But the money she’d walked away from made her stomach hurt.

Okay, so she had issues to work through. Take a number, anger management. Leave a message, grief recovery.

She still had her blog and her social media presence, but she hadn’t posted since Hayes was born. The words had dried up. Repackaging her heartache into an appealing, well-filtered post intended for mass consumption was impossible. And the comments. Oh, the comments. Total strangers felt compelled to weigh in on the most intimate details of her life. She couldn’t take it.

Hot tears pressed against her eyes and she leaned her forehead on the steering wheel. After ten hours of driving and five stops to soothe a screaming baby and appease a feisty preschooler, she should be crying tears of joy. She didn’t have to drive alone on the interstate, navigate through thunderstorms or bribe Addison with goldfish-shaped crackers to give her baby brother his pacifier. Her arrival in Camellia was supposed to signal an end to the nightmare of betrayal and divorce.

But it wasn’t an end to the pain.

She’d left Raleigh devastated and unemployed. Selling the house had been inevitable because she couldn’t afford the mortgage. Well-meaning friends had introduced her to new clients, but the home-staging appointments were awkward. She used her newborn son as an excuse for her scatterbrained presentations. A pathetic excuse really, because the truth was Trey had been the driving force behind all their endeavors.

She’d fooled everyone. Only a handful of people who’d produced the television show knew the truth. Her degree in fashion and textile design wasn’t all that useful in the real estate business. At least that’s what Trey had made her believe. Slowly but surely, one passive-aggressive comment at a time, Trey had reduced her to nothing more than the public face of their business. A social media influencer who couldn’t decorate a house and was too humiliated to engage with her audience. He’d been so subtle about it too. Publicly, he’d embrace her suggestions for renovating a kitchen’s backsplash or updating a bathroom’s fixtures. Then he’d go behind her back and submit a last-minute change order, claiming she must’ve been distracted with caring for Addison. Trey had undermined her confidence and used her to get what he wanted. Shame seeped in, reminding her yet again that she’d been distracted by her own foolish need for approval.

Coming back to Camellia with what little she still owned and moving in with her mother and stepfather wasn’t part of her vision for her future. Almost every square mile of this close-knit community served up another memory. Not that she wasn’t proud of where she came from. Her family and her upbringing had shaped her. But her current reality fell far short of her lofty expectations.

“Mama, are we here?” Addison’s voice interrupted her reluctant stroll down memory lane.

Avery sniffed and dried her tears with the back of her hand. “Yes, baby. We’re here. Let’s go inside and say hello to your grandmother and Papa Greer.”

“I want to get down,” Addison whined. She’d fought sleep all day, finally losing the battle about forty-five minutes ago. Which meant she’d be grouchy and difficult to deal with until Avery could get her settled down in Mama’s guest room.

“Hang on.” Avery turned off the ignition, unbuckled her seat belt and slid from the car. Although she needed help, she hated asking. Her mother, sisters, grandmother and now her new stepfather, Greer, were probably more than happy to have her and her children in Camellia. She sensed a storm on the horizon, though. Another difficult season. She’d learned resilience growing up without a dad, but her heart broke knowing Pax’s choices had forced her children down a similar path.

Resentment burned hot. Part of her wanted him to be happy, but she hated what the divorce had done to their family.

As soon as her flip-flops hit the ground, Avery stretched, wincing at the tightness in her back and shoulders. Between packing, getting up to feed Hayes in the middle of the night and driving all day, she was weary all the way to her bones. The last twelve months had depleted every ounce of her fierce determination.

This wasn’t the life she wanted. She’d spent the second half of her childhood looking for a way out of Camellia. After her father abandoned them, she’d never been the same. His departure splashed a painful stain on nearly everything she’d loved about this place. Now here she was, back in town, a single mom of two and desperate for help. Desperate for hope. She didn’t want her husband back, but she had no idea how to rebuild when her well-crafted life was all a facade.

Cole Whitaker pushed his bagel aside and slid his laptop closer, pretending to read his email. Except the news of Avery Lansing Crawford’s return to Camellia had captured the interest of the locals. And his assistant, Millie Kay, was doing her part to keep everyone informed.

“My mama cleans houses for some folks over on the lake and she was at the Macintoshes’ place last night. They’re the ones with that new white brick mansion on Wilder Road. Anyway, she saw Avery pull in next door, towing a trailer. She had everything but the kitchen sink jammed in that thing.” Millie Kay paused for dramatic effect. “I guess she’ll be sticking around. Which is no surprise, seeing as how her husband left her high and dry.”

Cole leaned further out of his chair to hear what Millie Kay said next then chastised himself for eavesdropping. Did he really need to know? Half of what she repeated likely wasn’t true, anyway. Not that Millie Kay wasn’t a wonderful administrative assistant. She just liked to talk. About anything or anyone.

Cole had to prepare for a board meeting, but curiosity about Avery shot to the top of his to-do list. He quickly searched the internet for Pax Crawford’s social media accounts. The guy was easy to find. Several pictures filled the screen, commemorating a recent trip to Vegas, a fancy meal at an iconic restaurant and the interior of a stunning home. There weren’t any photos of Avery. Instead, the images with people often included Pax posed beside a man Cole didn’t recognize.

“Pax Crawford prefers men?” Cole quickly scrolled through several more posts. Still nothing about Avery or any children.

This is none of your business. Get back to work.

He ignored the wise counsel looping through his brain and searched for Avery online. Although he wasn’t surprised when numerous articles and links filled his computer screen mentioning a television show about home decorating, the photo of her that appeared first captivated him.Mercy.Her dazzling smile still made his pulse stutter. And a precious little girl, a carbon copy of her beautiful mother, sat beside her. The same corkscrew curls, pale blue eyes and porcelain skin. Only the hand-smocked dress and the giant pink bow pinning back her curls were different.

Cole’s chest tightened. In the last decade, Avery had only become more beautiful. How was that even possible?

Stop.He closed his web browser and reached for his Auburn War Eagle mug. Taking a sip of coffee, he forced his attention back to the task at hand. The conference call with the foundation’s board of directors was scheduled for one o’clock this afternoon. He didn’t have time to worry about local gossip.

But this wasn’t just any local gossip. It was Avery.

Pushing back his rolling desk chair, he stood and crossed his cramped office to the wall with the map of the United States. Dozens of pushpins marked the locations where his team had identified potential trafficking victims. This is what mattered. Those precious girls plus the hundreds or even thousands more they hadn’t reached yet, all in desperate need of education and marketable skills. Imari’s Place was bursting at the seams. He had to secure funding, at least two hundred and fifty thousand, to give the girls scholarships and expand the housing options. His life’s work and highest priority. And he wouldn’t rest until he’d avenged his little sister’s abduction, and the suffering she’d endured at the hands of her captors.

This wasn’t the time to get sucked into the drama of some silly middle school crush whose world had unexpectedly unraveled.

Although if he was honest, his relationship with Avery was anything but silly. They’d gone to school together from preschool to twelfth grade. Lingering on the periphery of her life at first, he’d been mesmerized by the glow she emanated, until it came time to study. She was all business then. They were one-two in their graduating class. He’d edged her by a point that last semester. They’d strived to overachieve. Driven by the hurt and grief that had consumed their home lives. Education provided their tickets out of Camellia.

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