Page 9 of One Southern Summer

Avery bit her lip to keep from arguing then followed her sister’s orders. Twenty minutes later, she emerged from her room wearing a pink floral maxi dress and metallic sandals, with her hair tamed into submission. She’d even put on a little makeup for the first time in ages.

After she collected her phone from Julene and reassured Addison that she’d be back before her nap time, Avery followed Harper outside. “Want to stop by and say hello to Nana?” she asked, settling into the front seat of Harper’s red sedan.

“Not really.” Harper turned the key in the ignition. “She’s coming to supper tonight.”

“One visit with Nana today is enough for you?”

“Have you met our grandmother?”

Avery laughed as they buckled their seat belts. “Nobody tells it like it is quite like Nana.”

“Facts.” Harper fiddled with the AC then selected a pop station on the radio.

Avery felt untethered riding in the car without Hayes and Addison. She surveyed Harper’s center console, noting the lipstick, powder compact and travel-sized hand sanitizer stored in the cubby. There probably weren’t any crushed-up goldfish crackers or forgotten sippy cups littering the floor mat behind her seat. Oh, to be twenty-something again. Harper taught middle school math, and she was on summer break until early August.

“Tell me more about why you’re interested in working retail.” Harper steered her car onto the road leading toward downtown Camellia. “I thought you were a lifestyle blogger. No, wait. What’s the word?Influencer.”

Avery smiled at her sister’s good-natured teasing. “Pax and Trey had the real estate licenses. I maintained the blog and social media, and occasionally helped stage houses.” She’d felt more like Trey’s administrative assistant most days. Shame burned deep. She didn’t want to talk about them today. Or confess to Harper that she’d pretended to be something she wasn’t.

“So home decor is your niche then? What happened to fashion and textiles?”

Staring out the window, Avery caught glimpses of the other homes along the lake. At least the ones not tucked away behind wrought iron fences or meticulously manicured hedges. Before she could formulate a response, Harper’s phone rang, saving her from coming up with an answer.

To be honest, she didn’t know how to define her niche. Or if she even wanted to. Was there any value in clawing her way back to the top, just to share trite staged photos of summer picnics, beach reads and place settings on Mama’s table by the porch? More questions she couldn’t seem to answer. That didn’t mean she’d stop searching for clarity, though. Time had softened the raw edges of her heartache. She wasn’t Trey’s puppet anymore. Somehow she’d have to rediscover her true passion. Her authentic self. The version of her life she’d curated and portrayed to the rest of the world didn’t exist anymore.

“Sorry.” Harper ended the call and gave an apologetic smile. “Mary Catherine and I have been talking about spending a long weekend in Destin. I think we’ve finally agreed on the dates.”

“That sounds fun.” Envy sailed in and she promptly batted it away, like she’d swung at the birdie in their childhood badminton game.Not today, jealousy.The ugly feeling had crept in far too often in recent months, especially if she ran into friends from her former life as a married woman. Only a few had stuck by her after everything imploded. Sure, they’d promised to keep in touch, but she didn’t expect any of them to visit her in Camellia. Or invite her to spend a weekend at the beach.

Harper slowed to claim a parking space on Main Street then eased the car between the white lines and turned off the engine.

“Oh, good. You nabbed a space close to the boutique. Let’s pop in right quick.” Avery grabbed her purse then reached for the door handle.

“Avery, wait. You should probably know—”

“Oh. My. Word.” Avery punctuated every syllable as she locked eyes with Pax’s mother, Whitney, standing on the sidewalk.

“Pax’s mother owns the boutique.” Harper’s words left her mouth in a long, defeated breath.

Cole stepped out of the historic brick building where his foundation rented office space, sandwiched between the pharmacy and an art gallery, and immediately halted his steps. Avery Lansing Crawford—with her trademark platinum curls fluttering in the warm breeze—stood across the street. His breath caught. Even from a distance, she was striking. He let his gaze sweep from her gorgeous hair to the feminine curves of her upper arms and the pink flowery dress that emphasized her petite figure. He had a lunch meeting in five minutes at the deli two blocks down Main Street, yet his feet behaved as though anchored in the concrete.

He couldn’t look away.

Stalker much?

Avery faced her mother-in-law, Whitney Crawford. Evidently former mother-in-law if what he’d heard around town was accurate. He glanced at Avery’s sister Harper standing between the women. Harper recognized him and waved.

Oh, no. To be honest, he’d imagined his reunion with Avery countless times over the years. He’d even scripted the conversation, including clever lines he’d say, and of course Avery would laugh at his witty sense of humor. Except Pax’s mother had never been a cast member in his outlandish dream sequence.

Mrs. Crawford and her husband, Dalton, led a prominent megachurch known as The Oasis. Their congregation had rapidly expanded from fifty families to almost eight thousand members in the last ten years.

Cole didn’t worship at The Oasis. His family had been First Presbyterian people for as long as the church existed. His great-grandparents’ names were engraved in the stained glass panels in the foyer. He’d grown up in the beautiful old church, its spire visible from where he stood now, and he still attended every week. Sat in their family’s usual pew third from the front on the left. It just felt right to continue the Whitaker family tradition.

Besides, Pastor and Mrs. Crawford gushed publicly about their commitment to fighting social injustice, but somehow never had time to attend an event benefiting Imari’s Place or make a charitable contribution. Last he’d heard, The Oasis had declined all solicitations to become a ministry partner.

Cole had vowed he’d avoid any messy entanglements between the Crawfords and he hated to be late for a meeting, but his loyalty to Avery kept him from turning away. His brain screamed,Don’t do it!

But his legs argued,Let’s go!

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