Page 50 of A Whisper of Summer Magic

Meghan hesitated a moment, wanting to dig, but now was not the time. Not that she was sure there was a right time, but with or without their consent, Chloe’s past was about to take a nibble out of all of their behinds.

“It’s like hide-and-seek in a way,” Meghan mused. “The past has been counting down and is now calling outready or not here I come.”

“You said you found the letter last weekend,” Meghan remembered. “Aren’t her papers in her meticulously organized office downstairs?” Meghan felt a frisson of dread. “Why are you in her bedroom? Are you looking for more secrets?”

“I don’t want to find any secrets,” Sarah said softly. “But I’m afraid I will, and that this chest is where she kept them.”

Meghan was quiet and they both looked at the chest that had held G. Millie’s wedding dress, wedding quilt, and other Cramer heirlooms, letters, and treasures. The chest was the only thing G. Millie had kept locked from them.

“As coexecutor, it’s my duty to look. And to find.”

“And to share.” Meghan slipped her hand in Sarah’s and squeezed twice—sayingI’m here, just like they had as kids. “Everything.”

Chapter Ten

Meghan left Sarahafter a short work session that they’d curtailed, both of them still processing the news about Chloe, and neither of them were hungry for dinner. She felt unsettled leaving Sarah alone in G. Millie’s home. It wasn’t a reasonable fear, but if ghosts could haunt, that would be where G. Millie would set up shop. It had been her home since she’d been a bride. All the Maye brides had been carried over the threshold. Her mom had been the first Maye to move out before death.

“You’re being ridiculous,” she muttered walking to her car.

G. Millie had loved them all. She wouldn’t want to terrify them, although Sarah had sounded more wistful, like she was hoping G. Millie would pop up and start giving advice and comfort and likely booting them all in the ass a bit.

Meghan personally was beyond pissed that G. Millie had kept a big whopping secret from all of them. But she was irritated that never once had any of them suspected Chloe was related by blood.

Their father must have known.

Her brain raced with questions, and she felt too unsettled to drive home. No way could she face Jessica and not say anything—not that she and Sarah hadn’t promised to keep the secret, exactly. Usually, Meghan was a vault, but Jessica had been a force of nature since she was a toddler and had always been protective of Chloe. She’d stage an immediate intervention and blurt all to Chloe. Then she’d hunt down the abandoning mom and corner their father. Meghan winced, imagining the scene.

Does Mom know?

Meghan paused at her car. Was that what all the tension and rejection had been about growing up? Why they’d moved out of the Maye home, to Cramer Mountain leaving G. Millie and Chloe behind? Her childhood memories shifted on their axis, and she needed to think. Maybe a loop or two around the park before heading to the grocery store. Something mundane.

The downtown park looked so beautiful—emerald grass and trees, the explosion of colorful blooms in the flower beds, the center fountain. There was a large play area where kids were climbing, swinging, and playing in the sand. So much life.

Recently the park had added a small off-leash area, and several people threw balls for their dogs to chase while other dogs ran around. Adults walked the park loop with friends or with leashed dogs.

She remembered G. Millie watching them play in the park—although the play structures hadn’t been so high-end and creative then, just a couple of slides and swing sets. But they’d walk and look for signs of life—squirrels, ants, butterflies. Grandma Millie had always emphasized looking around for signs of life and beauty. She’d also counseled to look outside themselves—did they see someone who needed help? Something that needed fixing?

So, Meghan walked and observed all the life happening around her and tried tonotthink about Chloe’s parentage, the lies by omission they’d been living with and the pain that it might bring Chloe.

And then she saw a familiar figure—Forster—no, Luke he’d said. The professor with the little girl. He had a messenger-type bag with him—likely hoping to sit on a bench and work while Sage played, but she clung to his hand, watching the other kids play. A girl in a red dress ran by Sage, holding the leash of a fluffy dog that looked more like a sheepskin throw than an animal. But when the young girl, paused, waved, and said something, Luke’s daughter pressed herself more tightly against her father, but her gaze tracked the other child and the dog.

Shy?

Cautious?

Meghan had been neither as a child, but as she looked back at G. Millie’s house, knowing her sister was alone inside, her inkling of an idea—giving the new-to-town professor some of the specialty jam—had been a good one. She just needed to play Cupid a bit more aggressively.

And maybe borrow a well-trained dog.

*

“Oh. Hi,” Meghansaid, feeling unaccountably nervous bumping into Jackson at Harris Teeter to buy a few groceries. She felt after this morning at the bakery he’d think she was stalking him.

Jackson held a small basket that had a loaf of whole-grain bread, a few paper-wrapped packages from the deli, and a selection of fruit. Whiskey sat on his right side, paw extended like she should shake it.

“Hello,” she said and shook Whiskey’s paw, who looked like she grinned back. Nervous, she reached for a pomegranate.

“Careful with those pomegranates,” Jackson warned. “I remember a story from middle school about a beautiful daughter getting trapped in hell if she ate one of the seeds.”

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