Sugar's Twice as Sweet: Sugar, Georgia: Book 1 (29 page)

Josephina snorted. “In a town that hates me?”

“They don’t hate you.”

She shot Cal a disbelieving look, and he had the good manners to grimace.

“They just have a hard time with change, and you blowing into town, renovating Letty’s place, showing up everyone with your fund-raising skills, stealing the golden boy right out from under them.” Cal looked out over the oak trees and lake. “That’s a lot to take in for a town that took eleven years to agree on a color for the new town hall.”

“Town Hall is white.”

“Exactly.”

“The inn was mine to do with as I chose,” she said, feeling, for the first time in days, a sense of ownership of the house. “And I only offered to plan the Pucker Up and Drive to end all the arguing and feuding.”

“It is yours. And you stepped up with the Pucker Up and Drive to protect Brett.” Cal nudged her shoulder with his. “And, Joie, in this town arguing and feuding is as important as church and football. It’s how we show our love.”

“Kind of like pampering,” Josephina mumbled, thinking of Letty and the inn and just how far she’d come.

She took in a deep breath and looked around. Maybe the town wasn’t the only thing fighting change. She had come here with her big-town ideas, never thinking that there were people right here, in Sugar, who needed pampering, too.

“So what do you say? Do I send my men home?”

She shook her head and smiled. “I wouldn’t want to be thought of as un-neighborly.”

“Good girl, now can I have that gun so my men can get back to work?”

Josephina handed Cal the gun and stood. The plaque that she hadn’t bothered to read since her first day here was now polished and glimmering in the morning sun.

Josephina might suck at love but that didn’t mean she was a failure. Staying meant she’d have to see Brett from time to time, and it would hurt, but Pearl had mended her broken heart here, and so had Aunt Letty. Josephina would just be another in a long line of strong women, sharing the magic of this house with those adventurous enough to search for it.

That’s it
, she thought, knowing what she needed to do. And it was exactly what Fairchild House was made for. More imporant, it was what this town needed. What she needed.

Her eyes rested on the servants’ quarters. “Where was the medical center planning on keeping the families while their kids were receiving treatment at the new ward?”

“They haven’t figured it out yet. Why?” Cal asked, a smile tugging up one side of his lips.

“I was thinking that there is an awful lot of fairy dust around here.”

T
hat’s no way for a lady to behave,” Josephina scolded, snatching her hand back a second before it got ripped off.

“Come on, sugar,” she cooed, once again offering up her peanut-butter-laced finger. “You know you want some.”

The one remaining set of beady black eyes blinked at her from inside the vent and took a tiny step closer. The problem was the other set of much larger eyes, which were accompanied by razor teeth and a terrifying hissing sound that filled the air vent every time Josephina got close to luring the last baby out.

Using her bare toe for leverage, Josephina pushed off the top of the ladder so she could reach the extra inch she needed to grab the baby opossum by the scruff. The mama lunged forward, going for Josephina’s face.

 “Shame on you, Mrs. Pearl,” Josephina tutted. “What kind of example are you setting, trying to rip off somebody’s face? Especially when that somebody happens to be your neighbor.”

Backing out of the vent, the metal cutting into her stomach, Josephina cuddled the shaking little baby to her chest. She tipped her catcher’s mask up on her forehead and unzipped her backpack, which she had secured to the roofline, and smiled at the five sets of eyes and whiskers looking up at her.

She placed the final baby in the pouch, zipped it up, extracted a set of leather gloves, and grabbed a handful of cheesy pretzels. Gloves on, mask firmly in place, she slid the upper part of her body back through the narrow passageway.

The minute she came into sight, the hissing started up again. Fangs bared, Mrs. Pearl leaped forward, claws in the air, and slammed against the catcher’s mask. Josephina held her ground, letting Mrs. Pearl know that she wasn’t budging.

She felt for the opossum. She really did. Mrs. Pearl was only trying to create a safe space for her babies. Too bad her ideas on remodeling were in direct conflict with Josephina’s—no matter how cute the little guys were, sketchy power and leaky roofs would not pass code.

Mrs. Pearl lunged again, only to stop about an inch from the leather-gloved hand.

“All bark and no bite. I know some other ornery ladies just like that. Maybe when you get settled in your new house we should invite them over for poker and moonshine.”

Josephina set down a cheesy pretzel, then another, leaving a trail of crumbs that went to the end of the vent. Straddling the top step of the ladder, she snapped her eyes shut, trying to ignore the sweat building behind the mask.

“You got the ladder?” she hollered down.

“Yes, ma’am,” Rooster said at the same time as Boo barked. “Although, you know that I think this makes about as much sense as those clothes you put on your hound. I could have had them out weeks ago.”

“Yes, and they would have been traumatized. Sometimes all people need is a little understanding and patience.”

“They aren’t people,” he mumbled, but she knew he held the ladder all the same.

After what seemed like an hour, a pink heart-shaped nose covered in a smattering of white whiskers poked its way out.

 “Come on, Mrs. Pearl. Your family is waiting.” She slid the backpack through her arms with the pouch resting against her chest and pulled open the center zipper.

 Mrs. Pearl leaned forward and, with her eyes firmly on Josephina’s, sniffed the inside of the bag, her body softening when she saw her babies. Slow as molasses, Mrs. Pearl made her way into the opening and immediately started licking her brood. All the babies fought to get on their mama’s back. Giving them privacy in such an intimate moment, Josephina swallowed hard, zipped up the pack, and slid it on her back.

“Well, look at that. Letty’s girl is catching herself a coon.”

Holding on to the top rung, the Pearl family securely on her back, Josephina chanced a glance. She wasn’t sure if it was altitude sickness, cheesy pretzel overdose, or the pressure of the catcher’s mask on her forehead, but she had to blink several times to make sense of what she was seeing.

On her porch, in Bible-blue choir robes, stood the poker-playing posse and the entire Sugar Ladies Baptist Choir with a covered dish in one hand and a hymn book in the other, fanned out as if they were about to bring it on home. In the center, holding a mile-high cake with three silk blue ribbons hanging off the lip of the plate, was Hattie, the smell of coconut and vanilla cutting through the thick summer air.

“No coon. Just a family of opossums that I’m relocating.” Josephina carefully made her way down the ladder, feeling ridiculously proud. She’d just helped out her first family and the biggest busybodies in town were there to pay witness.

“Relocatin’?” Hattie asked, and the women all started mumbling amongst themselves, their murmurs picking up speed, but so did Josephina’s heart. Maybe they had come to support her after all. “You could have had your face ripped off?”

Then again, maybe not. “I’m fine, just trying to earn my wings.”

“Aside from losing her good sense, Miss Joie wasn’t ever in any danger, ma’am,” Rooster confirmed.

When her feet hit the wood of the deck, Josephina, making sure her back was to the choir, closed her eyes and willed her breakfast not to make a second appearance. She hung on to the ladder and took slow, calming breaths. In and out.

Okay, maybe
fine
was an overstatement. But she had faced her fear of heights, and rodents, and lived to tell the tale.

When her hands stopped shaking and she was certain that her face was a color other than green, she handed the backpack to Rooster. “Why don’t you go put them in their new house?”

Rooster mumbled something about women as he disappeared behind the barn.

Josephina walked across the porch, down the steps, and, without a word, tilted back her mask. When Hattie didn’t move, just kept shooting Jelly-Lou sharp looks every time Jelly-Lou shoved her forward another inch, Josephina decided to offer the first branch. “Can I offer you all a cold beverage?”

A small smile spread across the older woman’s face and she gave Josephina a long once-over. Something flickering in Hattie’s eye that Josephina had never seen before with regard to her—respect. “Huh, well, look at you.”

Josephina stepped back and looked down. Besides the baseball mask and leather gloves, she was wearing jean cutoffs, a camouflage tank, two braids, and no shoes. She looked as if she was ready to walk the redneck runway. And it felt good.

“What’s all this?” Josephina asked, addressing the army of covered dishes. Even though just about every person in town had been by this past week to help get the house ready for tonight’s Pucker Up and Drive kickoff potluck, Josephina still wasn’t sure if these casseroles came in peace.

“It’s our part,” Hattie said. “Figured with all the painting and decorating, you could use some help setting up for tonight. So the ladies and I decided we’d be that help.”

“In your robes?”

“No.” Hattie glanced at the choir, who all gave her an encouraging nod, “Brett called right in the middle of “Holy, Holy, Holy.” Just hearing his name made her heart sink to her toes. “Reminded me that it would be right neighborly for us to offer up our culinary prowess for this weekend, seeing as you’re doing all of this for the hospital.”

Josephina put her hands on her hips. “Did you just say culinary and prowess in the same sentence?”

“Now, people who live in fancy houses shouldn’t go slinging cow chips, child. It turns everything to shit.” Hattie’s smile went full-blown. “And it’s triple-blue-ribbon prowess.”

“And?” Jelly-Lou rolled forward, gently nudging Hattie from behind.

“And it took best in show at the Sugar County Fair in ’67,” Hattie said, holding up her cake, while glaring at Jelly-Lou.

“It was runner-up to my pineapple surprise cake in ’67, and you know it,” Etta Jayne clarified. “But I think Jelly-Lou was referring to us.”

One by one, each of the four ladies who had made Josephina’s life hell stepped forward. They all exchanged a sad look, but it was Hattie who spoke. “And we’re sorry. Sorry about the feud, about stealing your car, and cutting your power, and dognapping Boo. And about putting those toads in your bathtub.”

“And the chandelier,” Jelly-Lou added, Josephina’s heart aching at the reminder. Brett had been unable to find a place that had the right kind of glass to fix it. “We’re real sorry about that. We know how much it meant to you.”

“Don’t forget to apologize for telling everyone that her peaches are enhanced,” Etta Jayne said.

Thirty sets of critical eyes dropped to Josephina’s chest, even Rooster’s, who appeared from the side of the house. Dottie pulled out the binoculars.

Josephina cupped her breasts, showing them the natural jiggle. “One hundred percent real.”

“So Brett said,” Jelly-Lou informed everyone.

With a resigned look, Hattie held Josephina’s hand and led her to the swing. Still clutching tightly, the older woman took a fortifying breath and her posture crumpled—right along with Josephina’s heart.

“Go on, Hattie,” Jelly-Lou encouraged.

“Yeah.” Dottie rested a hand on Hattie’s shoulder. “The girl deserves to know.”

The last time Josephina had heard those words her world had literally cracked in two.

“Please,” she whispered. “I can’t take anymore. When I got here the place was a disaster, a guy that I was sleeping with gave me money, then lied to me, you all hate me, and there was a single mother opossum in the ceiling with her babies and I was too much of a city girl to kill them so I relocated them.”

“But you stuck it out. You dug your heels in, broken heart and all, and made it happen,” Hattie said quietly, taking in the changes to Fairchild House—the remodeled servants’ quarters, the rose garden—and gave a watery smile. “Letty would have been so proud.”

“Yeah?”

“More than proud, dear,” Jelly-Lou said, rolling up the ramp. “We all are. You are Letty’s girl inside and out.”

Hattie took both of Josephina’s hands in her own meaty ones, her voice serious. “Lord knows, after how I treated you, I have no right asking for favors, but seeing as this is Sugar and we’re neighbors, I’m asking. I made such a mess of things and I need your help to fix it. I love that boy more than anything and I chased him off.”

“He’ll cool down,” Josephina said, trying to soothe the older woman and knowing it was true. She knew firsthand that when it came to his family and this town, Brett was loyal to a fault.

Hattie shook her head. “He phoned about twenty minutes ago from the road. He packed up his truck this afternoon and is headed back out on the circuit.”

“But the Pucker Up and Drive is tomorrow.”

Hattie nodded, a small sniffle escaping.

“He loves this town and he’s worked so hard on this fundraiser. Why would he leave?”

“For you,” Jelly-Lou said.

“For me? Why?” she asked, but she already knew the answer, and it hurt her heart.

If she had understood at the time that staying here meant forcing him out, she would have left. He belonged there tomorrow. Her heart whispered that she belonged there, too. That she belonged there with him.

“He didn’t want to ruin your moment.” There was no blame in her voice, just a deep sadness. “I’ve never seen that boy as happy as when he was with you. And I’m sorry I didn’t see it for what it was until it was too late.”

“Too late for what?” Josephina whispered. All of the blood rushed to her head, pounding and making it hard to hear. A lump grew in her throat, expanding until talking became painful.

“Cal and his crew are building Brett a house on the back side of our property.”

“By his parents’ house?” She tried to swallow but couldn’t. “Why would he build a house?”

That seemed like a lot of commitment for a guy who considered the world his stomping ground.

“Before he left, he was thinking of retiring after this year,” Hattie admitted. “Told Cal that he wanted a place he could come home to. Raise himself some hogs and maybe start a family with a stubborn Yankee.”

“Hogs and a family?”
Stubborn Yankee?
Josephina was breathing too hard, the words all spiraling around in her mind too fast; she was afraid she’d misunderstood. Because suddenly everything and nothing made sense.

Josephina hopped up. “Rooster, hold that ladder!”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Josephina grabbed the binoculars from around Dottie’s neck and slung them around her own. She crawled up to the top of the ladder and straddled the top. Lifting the rubber eye cups to her face, she scanned the landscape. Finding the big oak tree, she moved the lenses to the right and her breath caught.

A concrete foundation lay on the west side of the property to the left of a gigantic oak and butted up to the bank of the lake—right where she’d told Brett she’d place a floor-to-ceiling window. Next to where she’d imagined the kitchen door was a fenced-off bed. Enclosed in rod iron, the soil had been tilled and it was the perfect size for a small chef’s garden. Farther off, near the old structure, was the beginnings of what appeared to be a barn and a roped-off area that she could only assume was for a pen.

That was all Josephina could make out before her vision went blurry with tears.

 “But he lied to me,” she yelled down.

“He loves you, dear,” Jelly-Lou hollered back. “Not that that makes his lying all right, but love makes people do stupid things. Why else would a man give up his home, his family, his friends? He gave you that loan for the same reason he left everything behind, so that you could have your fresh start.”

“He wanted you to be happy here,” Hattie added.

Josephina felt everything inside shift. The anger, the hurt, the heartache, it all faded, leaving only one realization.

“But I’m not. Happy, I mean.” Not without him.

Taking the ladder three rungs at a time, she raced down and, pulling together a mental plan, she fished her cell from her back pocket and thrust it at Hattie. “I’m trusting you with my most precious asset. My black book.”

“Should we tell her it’s just a phone,” Dottie whispered.

“In the contact section you will find the name and number of every person you will need to pull off this event. And the calendar lists every event that takes place over the next seventy-two hours, who has volunteered, and who’s bringing what. I’m expecting to raise enough to build Charlotte that pediatric ward.”