Page 72 of One Southern Summer

Hayes burst into tears. Avery blinked back the moisture forming in her eyes, forced herself to stand then carted him toward the door.

Iron bands tightened across her chest. Hot sticky air enveloped her as she stepped outside. Pax stood at the bottom of the steps chatting with Greer. Their conversation stopped as soon as Avery joined them. Pax’s smile faltered. Was he nervous too?

“Hello, Pax.” She clutched the rubbery handle of Hayes’s car seat. Pax wore a pale blue T-shirt from a popular seafood restaurant on the Gulf Coast. Huh. That was odd. He detested seafood and never wanted to visit that part of Alabama when they were married. His skin wasn’t the golden tan she remembered and his hair was longer than she’d ever seen it. Not that her opinion on his clothing or his hairstyle mattered anymore.

“Avery.” He tipped his chin in a casual greeting, moved closer then stopped and tucked his hands in the pockets of his navy blue shorts. “You’re looking well. How are things?”

“We’re doing fine, thank you.” She let her gaze slide toward the Cadillac Escalade, bracing for Trey to hop out of the vehicle and waltz back into her life. Through the windshield she recognized Whitney riding in the passenger seat up front. Once again, she had a phone pressed to her ear. Hopefully much like their encounter in the coffee shop she’d refrain from joining them. Addison had already dragged her suitcase over to the vehicle and struggled to put it inside. Mama had gone after her and stood beside the back door, undoubtedly offering last-minute words of encouragement.

Hayes ramped up the crying, drowning out all possibility of a lengthy conversation.

Pax’s brow furrowed. “Is he all right?”

“A little out of sorts.” Avery fought to keep the emotion from creeping into her voice. She lowered the car seat to the top step and set the diaper bag beside it. “I sent you an email with detailed instructions.”

Pax chuckled. “Of course you did.”

“Don’t.” Avery glared at him. “Please don’t make fun of me. This is extremely difficult for everyone.”

Greer cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

Pax sobered. “I understand. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make light of a challenging situation.”

Avery acknowledged his kind words with a nod. That was progress, right?

“If I have any questions, I’ll be sure to let you know.” Pax leaned forward and braced his hands on his hips. “Hey, buddy. It’s good to see you. We’re going to have a good time together, aren’t we?”

Avery stepped back, clenching her hands into fists at her sides. If she focused on the pain of her nails digging into her palms, maybe that would prevent her from saying something she’d regret. It wasn’t a golf outing or football game. He was an infant.

“Addison, come give me a hug, please.”

Addison broke free from her grandmother’s embrace and sprinted toward the porch. “Bye, Mama. I’ll be good, I promise.”

That nearly did Avery in. She scooped Addison into her arms. “I know you will, baby girl.” She hugged her until Addison squirmed to get down. Avery set her daughter on her feet then forced herself to meet Pax’s gaze again. “Please take care of them. I mean it. They are my everything.”

Oh, she hadn’t meant to say that.

Pax’s brows sailed upward. Then he took Addison’s hand in his and pulled her close. “I’ll bring them back on Monday like we discussed.”

Avery nodded, blew Addison one more kiss then turned and went inside. Her steps quickened to a jog, propelling her down the hall and into her room. She dove onto her bed, buried her face in her pillow and sobbed.

“Olive, can’t you move any faster?” Maribelle snapped like a branch on the ancient live oak tree in her granddaddy’s yard. The crowd in the sweltering parking lot outside The Oasis had swallowed the last of her patience. Men and women of all ages streamed toward the church’s entrance, parting like the Red Sea around their sad little gaggle. Oh, she hated being so slow.

“She had her hip replaced six weeks ago, Maribelle. Have a little grace.” Lucille’s frigid gaze did little to dial back Maribelle’s impatience.

“If it weren’t for Olive, we wouldn’t have these tickets,” Nell added.

“At this rate, we’re going to get stuck in the back row of the auditorium,” Maribelle argued. “Or worse, they’ll give our seats away because we didn’t get there in time.” Oh, she was so angry she could spit nails. Why didn’t Olive give her ticket to someone who could move faster than a snail?

Olive’s walker thump-thump-thumped across the asphalt as she methodically made her way from the church’s parking lot to the front entrance. Her mouth tightened, but she didn’t make any effort to increase her speed. She’d probably slowed down on purpose. Just to spite her.

“I’m surprised they’re even going to let you in, Maribelle.” Olive’s voice sailed toward her, a velvet harpoon of sweetness covering a dagger of contempt. “Given your granddaughter used to be married to that Pax fella. You must be so pleased to see her picture splashed all over the news.”

Oh, my. Maribelle opened her mouth to launch a barbed comment back, but nothing came out. Lucille clamped her bony fingers around her arm and propelled them forward into the crowd.

“We’ll save you seats,” Lucille called over her shoulder.

Maribelle stumbled along. “Did she just say—”

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