Page 53 of One Southern Summer

Maribelle leaned forward. “You think I’m responsible?”

“You certainly haven’t improved the situation. If you hadn’t interfered—”

“Lucille, being philanthropic is not a crime. I’d hardly call being generous an interference.” Maribelle raised her voice enough to draw stares from the neighbors dining at the next table. She dialed it back a notch and tried to convince her galloping pulse to slow down. “My generous contribution to Cole’s foundation will make it possible for lots of women to start over. You are not going to make me feel guilty about that. And did you know they are going to make a movie about what Cole is doing over there at that residential facility?”

“Your generosity is to be commended,” Lucille said dryly. “And who would watch a movie about girls who’ve survived trafficking?”

“Plenty of people, especially if Avery’s in it. Don’t forget, she had that TV show everyone loved.”

Lucille reached for her glass of orange juice. “Until it was canceled.”

It wasn’t canceled. Was it? Maribelle opened her mouth to protest then clamped it shut. Lucille only had one oar in the water if she thought they were going to sit here and argue about this.

“Mark my words, it’s the bribery that’s going to cause a problem,” Lucille said quietly.

Maribelle pushed her oatmeal away, accompanied by a dramatic eye roll. Everyone was making such a big deal about how Avery was going to feel when she found out about Maribelle’s agreement with Cole. Now, that was preposterous. How in the world would she ever find out? Even if she did, she’d probably be grateful. Not angry. Thanks to her quick thinking, Avery had an opportunity to make a fresh start. This was her time to shine. When all was said and done, she’d have herself a new man and a project that she could be proud of. Still, Maribelle couldn’t shake the nagging sensation that maybe Lucille was right. If her family got so upset that they refused to speak to her she’d be crushed. Lights out. Game over. She couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t have her family. Apart from them she was nothing.

She couldn’t wait to get to Imari’s Place. Avery mashed on the accelerator a little harder than necessary and sped toward the gate. She had to leave before Harper, Mama and Greer changed their minds. Laughter bubbled from her lips as she envisioned Harper swinging a grappling hook superhero style down the driveway and snagging her bumper. Addison was in a mood tonight. It would likely take all three adults and the patience of Job to keep her occupied until bedtime. Hayes thankfully had cheered up since yesterday. The liquid antibiotics the pediatrician prescribed must be working.

Visiting Imari’s Place wasn’t how she’d initially planned to spend her Saturday evening. But Cole had sent her a text that he’d arranged for her to chat with Wendy and Shayla, two women who had lived at the home for more than a year. After visiting the site, she had several questions. Cole’s suggestion that Wendy and Shayla could share their insights had infused her with a creative energy she hadn’t experienced in months. Meeting women whose lives would be directly impacted by her design choices gave her a sense of purpose.

Long rays of sunlight filled her car with a golden glow. Freedom beckoned. Still, she paused and waited for the gate to slide open. Hayes had finally taken a bottle yesterday when she’d been at her meeting with Cole. The pediatrician had even suggested she offer baby cereal this morning, which she’d done. He’d eaten a few bites. But what if he refused to take the bottle tonight and cried until she got home? What if Greer and Mama placated Addison’s tantrum with too much sugar and processed junk?

They wouldn’t. Pax and Trey would be in Camellia in less than six days, regardless of how things went tonight for her children. There was no denying she’d be handing them off in less than a week, and she had to get used to letting go.

She drove through the open gate and onto the road, drawing deep, calming breaths to soothe her anxious thoughts. Pax had turned out to be a not-so-great husband, but she had to keep reminding herself that initially he’d been a wonderful dad. Patient and attentive to Addison’s needs. Even during her colicky phase, he’d spent many an evening driving her around Raleigh to give Avery some relief from the constant crying. There wasn’t a reasonable explanation for why he’d abandoned his kids. Part of her wanted to blame Trey for wooing Pax away from his responsibilities as a husband and father. Okay, most of her wanted to keep blaming Trey. But Pax had to take responsibility for his own actions. If he wanted a relationship with Addison and Hayes, then she’d have to dredge up the courage to graciously offer him the opportunity.

Even though the thought of a shared custody arrangement still made her stomach lurch like she was riding the Tennessee Tornado rollercoaster at Dollywood.

Tonight, she had to stop obsessing over her children and focus on the gargantuan task at hand. Dale, the project manager, had mapped out an aggressive timeline. He recommended they choose flooring, countertops, plumbing fixtures and lighting as soon as possible. The sooner the expansion was finished, the sooner more women could move in, ideally by Christmas. She gnawed on her thumbnail while she drove, the other hand white-knuckling the wheel.

Did she have the knowledge or ability to take this on? Not like she could tuck tail and run. Instead, she’d show up with sustenance and get Shayla and Wendy to tell her more about what they needed to thrive in their home environment.

Less than thirty minutes later, she pulled into the cul-de-sac in front of Imari’s Place with fried chicken sandwiches, four large orders of fries, diet and regular soda, sweet tea and lemonade. All picked up from the drive-through of a favorite local fast-food restaurant. She reached into the paper bag, snagged a french fry and popped it in her mouth, wincing as the heat singed her tongue. Lights glowed from the front windows of the house next door, although the construction site was completely dark. Greer had offered her two camping lanterns, battery powered, which she’d tucked on the floorboards behind her seat. After she chatted with Wendy and Shayla, and they ate their meal, she wanted to spend some time in the unfinished building. The absence of the crew and somewhat cooler evening temperatures might make it possible for her to think and plan and dream.

When she climbed out of the car, another vehicle pulled in behind her. The driver parked, cut the engine and climbed out. Cole. Delight swelled in her chest. She rubbed her palm against the cotton fabric of her V-neck T-shirt. What was that about?

“Hey.” He strode toward her, his tall athletic frame clad in gray cotton shorts and a vintage Auburn T-shirt. Her gaze fell on his muscular biceps then slipped to his broad chest.

“Thanks for meeting me here.” She jangled her keys, forcing her eyes to inch upward.

“No problem.” His amused glance sent heat to her face. Had he noticed her checking him out?

“Although I’m sorry to tell you, Wendy and Shayla aren’t going to make it.”

“Oh, no.” She tipped her head toward her car. “I have enough supper in here for at least four people.”

“You didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”

“It’s fast food. No trouble at all. Besides, I didn’t want to show up empty-handed.”

“I’m sorry. They are normally quite reliable. Shayla picked up an extra shift at work, and when Wendy found out, she bailed. Since she had the night off, she probably wants to hang out with some friends.”

“I understand.” She bit her lip, trying to mask her disappointment.

“I don’t want to go into the house if we’re not meeting Wendy and Shayla,” Cole said. “That’s intrusive. Do you want to eat in the construction site?”

She glanced toward the unfinished building. The exterior walls and the roof were up. A temporary set of steps were in place, assembled from cinder blocks and extra plywood. “Sure. Can you grab the drinks?”

---