Lakeside Sweethearts Read online

  Sometimes she wished she could wrap her heart in paper to protect its fragile state.

  Her cheeks burned as she thought about yesterday’s panic attack. And that kiss. What had gotten into her?

  Of course Ian wasn’t going to hurt her.

  If he started treating her like a breakable piece of pottery…well, she’d put a stop to that in a hurry. She might have a few nicks and scars, but she was fully functional.

  The scent of newspaper mingled with the coffee brewing in the kitchen. She needed a break.

  Placing her hands on the small of her back, she leaned backward to stretch her tired muscles.

  A tap sounded on her screen door before it opened, and Ian poked his head inside. “Want a hand?”

  Agnes straightened and finger-combed her hair into some semblance of order. “Sure, come on in. Feel free to move boxes or piles if you want a place to sit.”

  Ian shoved his hands in his front pockets on his olive cargo shorts. “Nah, I’m good. I stopped at Cuppa Josie’s to see if you wanted to grab a bite to eat and catch a movie after work, but Josie said you left early.”

  “Like I had a choice. She practically booted me out the door. Want some iced tea? Or coffee?”

  “Sweetened or unsweetened?” The corner of his mouth lifted.

  Agnes shook her head. “You Yankees don’t know how to drink your tea. I have both.”

  “I like keeping my teeth cavity free.”

  “I just made a fresh pot of coffee.”

  “Coffee’s good. You should have texted or something. I would have given you a hand sooner.”

  Agnes headed for the kitchen and filled two stoneware mugs with coffee. “I appreciate that, but your hands are full already.”

  Ian followed her and leaned against the sink. “You sure that’s all?”

  “Of course. Why?” She pulled the hazelnut creamer out of the fridge and added a splash to each of their mugs.

  “Well, after yesterday…”

  Hands fisted on her hips, she turned to him. “Let’s clear the air so you’re not pussyfooting around me. I overreacted yesterday. You’d never lay a hand on me, Ian. You’re the kindest, gentlest person I know. That house seems to bring out my inner crazy.”

  He didn’t say anything for a minute. The only sound in the kitchen was the clock above the sink and Ian’s spoon clicking against his mug as he stirred his coffee. He set the spoon in the sink, then gave her a direct look. “You’re not crazy, Red. I’m sorry for what you went through.”

  “It’s in the past.” She waved away his sympathy and reached for her cup, needing something to do with her hands. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

  “Apparently it is if you still react that way.”

  “I’m fine. It won’t happen again. Can we talk about something else please?”

  Ian looked as though he doubted her, but he didn’t press it. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Pain…and maybe frustration laced his quiet tones.

  She stared at the coffee in her cup, not wanting to see the misery in his gaze. “Because.”

  He snorted. “Good answer.”

  “It was my problem, okay?” She set her cup on the small dinette table with more force than necessary. Coffee splashed over the rim. She snatched the dishcloth out of the sink and wiped up, hoping he didn’t notice her trembling fingers.

  “But I’m your friend.” He cupped her face.

  She stared into his blue eyes rimmed with black and canopied with arched eyebrows. His nostrils flared as his lips thinned. Unlike yesterday, this scowl didn’t send her into a downward spiral.

  She pulled his hands away from her face but didn’t release his fingers. “Yes, you are. But your family was going through that mess with Zoe. If I had told you, then Pete and Charlotte would have had two children behind bars because you would have ripped Bobby apart.”

  Ian’s eyes scanned her face as he processed her words. His frown softened. He stepped back and scrubbed a hand over his face. “You said your marriage was over because of Bobby’s cheating.”

  Needing a little breathing room, she walked into the living room and picked up more paper to start wrapping the pictures lining her mantel. “And I didn’t lie. That last woman was the final straw. I spent a month in Sweeney Hollow with Memaw, then returned to Shelby Lake to put the pieces of my broken heart back together. I never intended to step foot in that house again.”

  “Until I asked for your help. You should have told me why. We could have worked around it somehow.”

  “We Kingsleys keep our dirty laundry in the hamper where it belongs. Dealing with the rumors about Bobby’s online gambling and other women were bad enough. I wasn’t going to give anyone any more reasons to gossip about me.”

  “I’m not other people.” Ian reached for a section of the paper and wrapped it around one of the photos.

  “By the time I came back from Texas, I didn’t want to rehash it anymore.”

  Ian surveyed the room cluttered with boxes. “When do you plan to be out of here?”

  “By Friday. Mama decided to wait a week before flying out, so I’m taking her to the airport on Monday. That gives us the weekend to go over things with the house and the gardens.”

  She reached for the last frame—her favorite, actually—of the two of them when they were kids lying on the dock, rocking late ’80s acid-washed shorts and neon shirts. She handed it to him to wrap. “Nice mullet.”

  He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s quite a side ponytail you’re sporting with the hot pink scrunchie. How old were we in this picture?”

  “Twelve and fourteen. You told me you were going to youth camp for two weeks.”

  “Oh, that’s right. And you missed me every minute I was gone.”

  “In your dreams, bub. More like you missed me.”

  Mama had taken their picture, then given it to Agnes the day Ian had left for camp. After his parents’ station wagon had disappeared down the street, she had thundered up the steps to her room, slammed the door and sprawled across her bed, soaking her pillow with her tears. She spent the first week with her nose buried in her Judy Blume books. “That was the summer you broke your ankle playing kickball.”

  Completely convinced Ian would find a new friend and forget about her, she had prayed and asked God to bring him home early. Then spent the rest of the summer feeling guilty when he came home on crutches.

  “And you refused to sign my cast. You made me a card instead.” Ian set the wrapped frame in the box and taped the box closed. He uncapped a black marker with his teeth and scrawled Fragile across the top.

  “I didn’t want to be like everyone else.”

  “You’re definitely an original, Red.”

  She wasn’t sure what to make of that.

  *

  Ian’s head ached as he tried to focus on Griffin’s chatter about keeping from falling into the lava as he played Minecraft on Ian’s iPad.

  He pulled into the driveway at Agape House and cut the engine. Griffin looked up from his game. “What are we doing here?”

  “Stopping to see if Red wants to join us for dinner. You mind?”

  “Nope.” Griffin dropped the tablet in his lap and looked out the windshield at the house. “You really think they’ll let Mom come home?”

  “Why do you ask that?”

  “Joey on my soccer team said Mom should stay locked up because she did a bad thing.”

  Apparently something the kid overheard from his parents. Ian tightened his grip on his keys as he took in Griffin’s slumped shoulders.

  How many times did he get hassled by his friends but didn’t say anything?

  Ian ruffled Griffin’s hair. “How’d that make you feel to hear people talk about your mom like that?”

  “It made my stomach hurt.” He wrapped his arms around his middle.

  “Yeah, mine, too. The thing is, Bubba, your mom made a mistake, but you know she’s facing the consequences. When the judge releases her, she wil
l be home again.”

  “What if she has to go back to jail?”

  “We’re going to make sure she doesn’t. You with me?” Ian held out his fist.

  Griffin bumped knuckles with him, then splayed his fingers, making an explosion sound. “Yeah!”

  “Why isn’t Grandpa helping fix up this house? I heard him talking to Agnes when she came to the cabin. Doesn’t he like Mom anymore?”

  Ian rested an elbow on the window frame and rubbed a hand over his chin. What he was thinking couldn’t be shared with his nephew, but he wasn’t going to brush it aside as if things were fine with Dad…. The kid deserved a somewhat honest response.

  “Grandpa is sad and angry about choices your mom had made. He needs to work things out in his own way.”

  “Grandma’s sad, too. I see her cry sometimes. That makes my stomach hurt, too.”

  “I know, mine, too. Let’s go inside and let Red know we’re here. Maybe you can show me anything that needs to be fixed.”

  “Like the way you fixed Grandma’s kitchen sink and water shot to the ceiling?” Griffin grinned, revealing a gap in his front teeth.

  Ian looped an arm around his neck and rubbed his knuckles playfully across the top of his head. “Whose side are you on anyway?”

  Griffin squirmed out of Ian’s grasp and reached for the ball on the floor by his feet. “Can I stay outside and play with my soccer ball?”

  “Keep it away from the road and out of neighbors’ yards.”

  “Okay.” Griffin dropped the ball in the grass next to the driveway and started dribbling across the yard.

  Snatching his phone off the seat, Ian exited his vehicle and headed for the house once he knew Griffin was fine.

  As he opened the front door, the citrus scent of cleaner filled the air, replacing the musty smell that had greeted him in the past.

  Red’s voice bounced off the walls as she belted out the words to a familiar country song. Her voice, low and throaty, washed over him, releasing a longing in him.

  He lounged against the doorjamb watching her dip her hips and shimmy her shoulders as she scrubbed the wall. “So this is the secret to your cleaning and brainstorming decorating ideas?”

  She jumped, tugged on her earbuds and spun around. Pink crawled up her neck and colored her cheeks. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Obviously. Nice song. You have a great voice.”

  “I can’t sing.” She dropped her rag in the bucket and dried her hands on her shorts.

  “Says who?”

  She looked away and picked up her bucket.

  “Right. Well, Bobby’s an idiot. Listen to someone whose vote counts.”

  The door slammed, and then footsteps pounded across the floor. Griffin stomped into the room, his chest jerking with staggered breaths as he spoke. “I didn’t mean to do it. Honest. It was an accident.” He plopped down on the bottom step of the staircase and buried his face in his arms.

  Ian and Red exchanged glances; then Ian walked to the stairs and sat beside him. “What’s going on, Bubba?”

  Tears streaked his freckled face when he raised his head. “That lady across the street is mean. I told her it was an accident, but she just started yelling.”

  That lady across the street had to be Evelyn Parnell, sister to Shelby Lake police chief Patrick Laughton, but she was also the first and loudest to speak out against Agape House.

  Ian rubbed a hand over his forehead. This was a complication they didn’t need. “How about if you tell me what happened?”

  Before Griffin could speak, someone pounded on the front door. Ian didn’t need two guesses about who was there.

  Ian strode to the front door and opened it. Evelyn Parnell stood on the front step with thunder in her eyes. Lines deepened across her forehead and around her mouth. “Mrs. Parnell. How are you?”

  She tugged on the jacket to her gray pantsuit and sniffed. “I was just fine until that little brat nephew of yours destroyed my flower bed.”

  Red appeared beside Ian. “Mrs. Parnell, lovely to see you.”

  The woman glared at the two of them over the rim of her glasses. “Is it?”

  “Mrs. Parnell, what is it you think Griffin did?”

  “He kicked his ball into my yard, smashing the celestial globe in my front flower bed.” She waved a hand toward her house across the street.

  Celestial globe? One of those colored gazing ball things?

  Ian called over his shoulder, “Hey, Bubba, come here a minute.”

  Griffin trudged to the door, his head down and hands shoved in the pockets of his cargo shorts.

  Ian kneeled in front of him and rested his hands on the kid’s shoulders. “Did you break something of Mrs. Parnell’s?”

  “Yes, but I told her it was an accident.”

  “Did you apologize?”

  “No.”

  “Think you should?”

  “I’m sorry for breaking your ball thing, Mrs. Parnell.” Griffin looked at Mrs. Parnell, then dropped his gaze to his feet and mumbled, “I will buy you a new one.”

  “That one was special and can’t be replaced. Stay away from my yard. I don’t have time for troublemakers like you.” She turned on her heel and started down the sidewalk.

  Red pulled Griffin against her and wrapped her arms around him. Hearing the kid’s sniffles sent Ian’s blood pressure rising.

  Ian ground his teeth to keep from spitting out the words burning his tongue. He pushed past Red and stepped outside, closing the door. “Mrs. Parnell, my nephew is not a troublemaker. What happened was an accident, and he offered to replace it. Cut him some slack.”

  She whirled and shook her finger at him, her mouth pinched and eyebrows tugged together. “I’d expect a comment like that from you.” She waved a hand across the front of the house. “Is that what you’re planning to do with this abomination? Excuse their actions and tell the town to cut them some slack?”

  “Griffin’s actions weren’t deliberate. Like I said, he apologized and offered to replace it. What more do you want?”

  “What I want is for your family to take your business elsewhere…off my street and out of this town. I’ve already written letters to the parole board and the city council, voicing my displeasure. I haven’t decided if I should send them or not.”

  His stomach tightened as his nerves thrummed. “That is your right, but I’m asking you to reconsider.”

  “Why should I do that?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “This project affects many people—children like my nephew who need their parents out of prison and back in their lives. Parents, siblings, spouses…it’s an opportunity to restore families.”

  His patience was wearing thin. He needed to end this conversation and leave before he said something he would regret—something that would jeopardize Agape House even further. He scoured his hands over his face.

  His biggest fear about people like Evelyn Parnell—and surely she wasn’t the only one in the community who felt this way—was them approaching his sister while she lived at Agape House. Would she have the strength to stick it out, or would she try to run?

  “We want to show Christ-like love to others and offer a second chance at life. Isn’t that what being a Christian is all about?”

  “Don’t you preach to me about being a Christian. I’ve been in the church longer than you’ve been alive, young man.”

  “Being in church doesn’t make one a Christian. Again, I’m sorry on Griffin’s behalf about the celestial ball thing. I’ll do some research and send you a check to replace it.”

  Ian stalked back into the house and slammed the door. He forced himself to relax so he didn’t vent his frustration in front of Griffin.

  He returned to the living room to find Red and Griffin sitting together on the bottom step. The boy looked up.

  “Uncle Ian, I’m sorry for being a troublemaker.”

  Ian knelt in front of the kid and ruffled his hair. “Bubba, you’re not a troublemaker. It
was an accident. Next time kick your soccer ball in the backyard. Let’s get some grub. Where do you want to go?”

  “Can we have tacos?”

  “Works for me.” Ian held out a fist and bumped knuckles with Griffin.

  He’d lost any appetite he had, but he needed to get away from Agape House and find a quiet place to think and pray and beg God not to allow those letters to be mailed.

  Chapter Seven

  A month ago, if anyone had told Agnes she’d be moving back home, she’d say they were off their rocker.

  But here she was—flipping ribs on Mama’s deck and painting them with Memaw’s barbecue sauce recipe. The meat sizzled against the cast-iron grates. Smoke tangled with the scent of barbecue and drifted through the air to whet the appetites of her guests.

  Leaving her apartment had been bittersweet, but having Ian, Josie, Nick, Lindsey and Stephen help move her stuff into Mama’s garage eased the ache a little. She couldn’t do it herself, and knowing she had friends she could count on…well, that just made her heart sweeter than sugar.

  Ian and Josie continued to remind her God had something greater in store for her.

  She hoped they were right.

  Spending the next two months or so without paying rent should have straightened the twists in her stomach, but if she didn’t have enough money for the down payment on the cottage, then she’d have to figure out new living arrangements.

  She couldn’t dwell on that now. She had a yard full of people to feed, and no one wanted to listen to her bellyaching.

  Grabbing the barbecue brush again, she mopped more sauce across the boneless ribs and closed the lid on the grill. She slid the glass patio door open and headed for the kitchen.

  “Take these drinks to the table, darlin’.” Mama handed her pitchers of sweet tea and lemonade.

  “The ribs are about ready to fall off the bone.”

  “All righty, then. Send those kids in here to wash up.”

  And by kids, Mama meant anyone under the age of forty.

  Carrying the beverages to the deck, she glanced across the yard where Hannah kept the younger kids entertained with bottles of bubbles.