“And then carpenter bees attacked,” she told her daughters and Hudson at brunch the next morning. “They were this big”—she made a wide space between her thumb and forefinger—“and they wanted revenge for what humans have done in the past.”
Reece laughed. “They did not want revenge.”
Ginny dropped her hand atop the table. “They didn’t say as much, but I know the truth.”
Chandler tore a hunk of bread from the French baguette they were dipping into seasoned oil. “If they’d wanted that much revenge, they would’ve followed you home.”
“I concur,” Hudson said.
She shrugged. “I’m only telling you what I know. But enough about me—how’s wedding planning going?”
“Good.” Her daughter shrugged. “I’m calling places to find a venue. It depends on their availability as to when the date will actually be.”
Ginny glanced out toward the ocean, at the water slapping against the sugary sand “Why don’t you have it here?”
Hudson glanced expectantly at Chandler. “I like that idea. What do you think?”
One side of her mouth ticked up. “That’s great. Then we can have the wedding whenever we want.”
“You can.” Ginny rose and crossed to the window. “We can set up chairs just off the deck and the ceremony can take place right on the beach. There’s plenty of room, depending on how many people you invite.”
“I’d like to keep it small,” her daughter admitted.
“My mother may want to make it big, but she’ll go along with whatever you say,” Hudson told her with a squeeze of her hand before glancing at his watch. “Looks like I’ve got to head out. I’m meeting with the senior partners of the firm before I start.”
“You’re leaving so soon,” she said.
“I hate to eat and run.” He rose and kissed the top of Chandler’s head. “But duty calls.”
“I understand,” Ginny told him.
As soon as Hudson left, Reece pounced. “How does he like it here? Does he hate it? Is it way too laid back for him?”
“Whoa, tiger,” her sister joked. “He likes it, but Hudson’s used to having the world at his doorstep, so that’s been a learning curve. In the past he would eat out every night, but now he’s learning to cook.”
Reece’s eyes widened. “A lawyer learning to cook? What’s he made so far, ramen noodles?”
She wadded up her napkin and tossed it at her sister. “Very funny. No. He’s grilled hamburgers.” The three women exchanged a look before bursting into laughter. “What? Don’t hamburgers count as cooking?”
“They do, honey, they do. They count more than you know.”
“Yeah, first it’s burgers and before you know it, he’ll be making his own fancy mayonnaises.”
“Stop it, Reece,” Chandler scolded, knuckling tears of laughter from her eyes.
“A new life means big changes,” Ginny told them. “He loves you very much to have moved here.”
“I know.” Her voice and her gaze dropped. “He does.”
Reece and Ginny exchanged a look. It was her youngest who spoke. “What’s wrong? Why the long face?”
“It’s nothing.”
She wasn’t buying it. “It’s definitely not nothing. What’s going on, honey? You can tell us.”
Chandler raked her fingers through her hair and exhaled a loud sigh, slumping down onto her chair. “Everything was good until…until I started to think about Daddy and what he did to you.”
“Okay…what does that have to do with anything?”
“You don’t think…it’s just that…how do I make sure that doesn’t happen to me?”
Her words were a sucker punch to the throat. “Oh. Well. I guess that I don’t know. Wait. Hudson loves you. Why are you thinking these things?”
“I shouldn’t be.”
“No, you shouldn’t,” Reece agreed in a flinty voice. “What Daddy did happened to Mama, not you.”
“I know. It’s true.” She slowly lifted her gaze to meet Ginny’s, and pain filled her eyes. “It’s just that I can’t help wondering if that’s in my future, too.”
She yearned to tell her daughter that of course history wouldn’t repeat itself, that what had happened to her would never happen to Chandler. But how could she make a promise that wasn’t hers to keep? Yet the pain and worry in her daughter’s eyes were real, and both needed to be tended. If they weren’t, the worry would only fester and become worse.
“No one knows what the future holds,” she said slowly, trying to quickly pluck the best word choice from her brain. “But what I can tell you is that your father and Hudson are very different men. Jack was always selfish, even from the beginning. He was someone caught up in society and making sure his image was perfect. Hudson, though I don’t know him as well as you, doesn’t seem to be that way. He seems like a kind, thoughtful man who’s putting your needs ahead of his own. Would Jack have ever moved to the beach for me before we were married? I doubt it. He would’ve released me rather than track me down. Put all those fears aside. They won’t do anything except rot the great relationship you’ve got.”
A wobbly smile alighted on Chandler’s face. The worry still flashed in her eyes, but Ginny could tell that she had listened, and that the seed of her words could begin to sprout and hopefully strangle the other weeds of thought that were trying to take root.
“Mama’s right,” Reece said. “Hudson isn’t Daddy, so don’t make him be like that.”
“I know he’s not, but I said yes to marrying him, and now all this doubt is creeping into my mind. I don’t want to be this way. I don’t want to think this, but how can I not? Not after what just happened to you, Mama. It’s not like any of us ever expected that Daddy would have a second family and he’d take the house from you, but he did. And now I’m about to start my life with Hudson, and Daddy’s shadow is hanging over that.”
Ginny’s heart ached for her daughter. “Have you talked to Hudson about this?”
“No.”
“You should. You need to tell him your worries and your doubts. If you don’t, they’ll become a wedge between you. He won’t know what’s wrong, and you’ll be afraid to tell him. If Jack had come to me years earlier and asked for a divorce, it would’ve been hard, but I would have managed it. Actually I would have preferred that to learning about his secret life when the will was read.”
Reece threw up her arms. “But then you wouldn’t have bought the lighthouse.”
She tossed her head back and laughed. “No, I wouldn’t have, and I wouldn’t have started my own business—with the help of my two wonderful daughters.” Her gaze nestled onto Chandler, who still looked lost. Ginny wished for the time when her daughter was still young, when she would hold her close, run her fingers through her hair and whisper in her ear that everything would be okay. But those days were long gone, and deep rips had torn her heart since then. “Talk to him. Talk to Hudson and let him know your worries. I guarantee that he’ll understand, and he’ll be thankful you told him.”
She inhaled deeply. “You’re right. I’ll tell him.”
“Good.”
“Great.” Reece slapped her hands together. “If we’re done, I need to get prepping for tomorrow’s lunch. We’re having fried chicken, potato salad and creamy cole slaw.”
Ginny rose. “Oh, that reminds me—I’m meeting with Mrs. Travis in the morning.”
“Mrs. Who?”
“Travis. She’s an older woman who wants us to cater a luncheon for her. I may be a bit late getting back.”
“That’s okay.” Her youngest loaded plates onto her hand. “Chandler will be here to help.”
“Actually I might not be,” she said with a grimace. “I promised Vicki that I’d help move some things around at the studio. But I can ask her to reschedule.”
“No, that’s okay. I can handle lunch by myself for a few minutes. No big deal.”
Ginny frowned. “You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Reece flashed her a wide smile full of straight, white teeth. She was so pretty. Her beauty wasn’t like Chandler’s, who had been gifted with a long, lithe body, hair the color of a wheat field, and bright eyes. No, Reece was more of the girl-next-door type with her brown hair and round cheeks. She was approachable, sweet, whereas Chandler was untouchable. Reece never appreciated her own looks, though, but Ginny did.
“I got this,” her youngest insisted. “But only if you promise to read that diary and tell us what it says.”
She sighed. “Fine. I’ll start it tonight, and I’ll let you know everything that’s in it.”
“Thank you.”
As she helped her daughters clear the table, her phone buzzed. A wistful smile played on her face. It was probably Aiden calling to see if she’d recovered from the bees. But when she glanced at the name on the screen, her heart dropped.
She recognized the number immediately because it had been the landline in her old home, the fabulous house in Buckhead, the home of her dreams—or nightmares, now.
Only one person could have been calling her from that number—Savannah, Jack’s mistress, and the woman who now lived her old life.
“Who is it, Mama?” Chandler asked. “You’re staring at that phone as if it’s a ghost.”
Ginny bristled. She dropped the phone into her pocket as if it were a hot potato. “It’s no one. Just a spam call.”
It was no one, indeed.