The Summer of New Beginnings: A Magnolia Grove Novel Read online

  PRAISE FOR BETTE LEE CROSBY’S NOVELS

  SPARE CHANGE

  “Skillfully written, Spare Change clearly demonstrates Crosby’s ability to engage her readers’ rapt attention from beginning to end. A thoroughly entertaining work of immense literary merit.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “Love, loss and unexpected gifts . . . Told from multiple points of view, this tale seeped from the pages and wrapped itself around my heart.”

  —Caffeinated Reviewer

  “More than anything, Spare Change is a heartwarming book, which is simultaneously intriguing and just plain fun.”

  —Seattle Post Intelligencer

  PASSING THROUGH PERFECT

  “Well-written and engaging.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  “Crosby’s characters take on heartbreak and oppression with dignity, courage, and a shaken but still strong faith in a better tomorrow.”

  —Indie Reader Magazine

  THE TWELFTH CHILD

  “Crosby’s unique style of writing is timeless and her character building is inspirational.”

  —Layered Pages

  “Crosby draws her characters with an emotional depth that compels the reader to care about their challenges, to root for their success, and to appreciate their bravery.”

  —Gayle Swift, author of ABC, Adoption & Me

  “Crosby’s talent lies in not only telling a good compelling story but also in telling it from a unique perspective . . . characters stay with you because they are simply too endearing to go away.”

  —Reader Views

  BABY GIRL

  “Crosby weaves this story together in a manner that feels like a huge patchwork quilt. All the pieces and tears come together to make something beautiful.”

  —Michele Randall, Readers’ Favorite

  “Crosby is a true storyteller, delving into the emotions, relationships, and human dynamics—the cracks which break us, and ultimately make us stronger.”

  —J. D. Collins, Top 1000 Reviewer

  SILVER THREADS

  “Silver Threads is an amazing story of love, loss, family and second chances that will simply stir your soul.”

  —Jersey Girl Book Reviews

  “Crosby’s books are filled with love of family and carry the theme of a sweetness for life . . . you are pulled in by the story line and the characters.”

  —Silver’s Reviews

  “In Silver Threads, Crosby flawlessly merges the element of fantasy without interrupting the beauty of a solid love story . . . sure to stay with you beyond the last page.”

  —Lisa McCombs, Readers’ Favorite

  CRACKS IN THE SIDEWALK

  “Crosby has penned a multidimensional scenario that should be read not only for entertainment but also to see how much love, gentleness, and humanity matter.”

  —Gisela Hausmann, Readers’ Favorite

  ALSO BY BETTE LEE CROSBY

  Wyattsville Series

  Spare Change

  Jubilee’s Journey

  Passing Through Perfect

  The Regrets of Cyrus Dodd

  Beyond the Carousel

  Memory House Series

  Memory House

  The Loft

  What the Heart Remembers

  Baby Girl

  Silver Threads

  Serendipity Series

  The Twelfth Child

  Previously Loved Treasures

  Stand-Alone Titles

  Cracks in the Sidewalk

  What Matters Most

  Wishing for Wonderful

  Blueberry Hill

  Life in the Land of IS: The Amazing True Story of Lani Deauville

  Esther’s Gift: A Kindle Worlds Novella

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2018 by Bette Lee Crosby

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Lake Union Publishing, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Lake Union Publishing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781503901247

  ISBN-10: 1503901246

  Cover design by Laura Klynstra

  For my husband, Richard.

  You have always believed that I can fly.

  You are my rock and my inspiration.

  Contents

  Coming to Magnolia Grove

  The Darkest Day

  Lila

  A Changing Life

  Meghan

  The Wild Child

  Lila

  Sad Goodbye

  Tracy

  A Remembered Love

  Surprise Visit

  Tracy

  The Threat

  The Dog

  Something New

  Meghan

  Remembering Clancy

  Making Plans

  Book of Wishes

  A Spiteful Deed

  Tracy

  Sister Love

  Monday’s Mail

  Meghan

  The Vet Visit

  Celebratory Lunch

  A Book of Thoughts

  Finding Gabriel

  After Agatha

  Meghan

  Saturday

  A Painful Truth

  The Portuguese Fisherman

  Tom

  A Day of Testing

  The Consultation

  Tracy

  A Family Affair

  August

  Meghan

  Operation Day

  In the Following Weeks

  The First Sound

  Tracy

  Sharing the News

  A Temp Job

  The Question

  Finding an Answer

  Thanksgiving

  Secret Santa

  Lila

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Coming to Magnolia Grove

  When Lila married George Briggs, she believed they would settle into a lovely little house, raise a family, and live happily ever after. She was partly right.

  On a Sunday afternoon, when the summer sun was high in the sky and the air sweet with the scent of magnolia blossoms, she and George went for a drive in the country. They started out looking for a farm stand with fresh strawberries and bushel baskets of peaches, but the moment they entered Magnolia Grove, their fate was sealed.

  “Let’s stop for a soda,” Lila suggested as they cruised along Main Street.

  They settled at a sidewalk table, ordered ice-cream sodas, and sat for nearly an hour. Lila was taken with the people she watched come and go—families mostly, some with toddlers, others with teenagers, all of them laughing and happy. The thing that impressed her was the way people greeted one another, stopping to pass the time of day and waving to neighbors on the far side of the street.

  “This is such a friendly town, isn’t it?” she said, a sparkle in her eye.

  George nodded. “Would you like to ride around and see the rest of the place?”

  Of course she answered yes.

  It was a tiny little town, one you could drive through from end to end in mere minutes, but they were in no hurry. First George circled the lake with its gathering of tiny b
ungalows at the far end, then he turned toward the residential area. They passed by houses that varied in size and style, yards planted with flowers, and tricycles left waiting on the front porch or walkway. At the end of Carson Street, Lila spotted a bunch of balloons bobbing in the breeze.

  “Let’s see what’s down there,” she said.

  George obligingly turned, and as they drew closer, he saw the sign that read MODEL HOMES. An arrow pointed toward Baker Street.

  “Shall we take a look?” he said, and turned in that direction.

  Halfway down the street was a cluster of brand-new Cape Cod houses, five of them in a row. Each one was alike and yet a bit different: the doors a different color, window boxes on some, shutters on others—small changes that gave each home its personality.

  Seeing the smile that had settled on Lila’s face, George pulled to the curb and parked. Hand in hand, they went from house to house, taking everything in, weighing the yellow countertop against the more basic beige one, peeking into closets and imagining a time when they would need a house of this size for the family they would one day have.

  Lila fell in love with the house that had a brick-lined walkway, black shutters at the windows, and a young magnolia tree planted in the side yard.

  “Oh, George, this is the perfect place to raise a family,” she said.

  He agreed. That same day they put a deposit on the house, and they moved in two months later. Before Christmas arrived, Lila had women friends up and down the street, and George was a regular at the men’s Thursday-night poker game.

  Tracy was born the following summer, and Meghan came along a year later.

  With two beautiful girls and a husband she adored, Lila knew all the happiness she had foreseen on the afternoon they drove into Magnolia Grove had come to pass.

  That held true until that terrible year Meghan was preparing to leave for the Grady College of Journalism. That summer, the beautiful life Lila had built came crashing down around her.

  The Darkest Day

  Lila always said Meghan was born with words already forming in her head. When Meghan was barely eleven years old, she used her allowance to buy a black-and-white composition book. On the first page, she wrote “The Private Thoughts of Meghan Briggs” in loopy handwriting and used a smiley face to dot the i in her name. Then she drew a flowery border around the words, turned to the second page, and began scribbling thoughts about her desire to have summer sandals the color of a daffodil and how she was drawn to a boy named Marcus. Before the notebook was filled, Meghan knew exactly what she wanted to do with her life. She wanted to be a writer—a journalist or novelist, perhaps.

  When she announced this intention, Lila saw the determination in her daughter’s face and gave a proud smile. “You surely are like your daddy.”

  In Meghan’s senior year of high school, she applied to the Grady College of Journalism at the University of Georgia in Athens and was accepted. That winter she filled two notebooks with thoughts of going off to Athens and following in the footsteps of Mr. Henry W. Grady himself.

  On graduation day, as she walked across the stage to receive her diploma, she glanced out at the audience and smiled. They were all there, all the people she loved: her daddy, wearing a smile that stretched the full width of his face, and her mama, sitting proudly beside him. On his other side, her older sister, Tracy, was looking down at her cupped hands, probably texting Dominic, her boyfriend of the day.

  The early-morning forecast had threatened rain, but a gentle breeze pushed the clouds aside. By ten o’clock the sky was a blanket of blue with sunlight dappling the grass. When they gathered for photographs after the ceremony, Meghan was all smiles.

  Two days later, everything changed.

  The storm that had threatened for days finally rolled through and soaked the ground. The temperature rose to ninety-seven that afternoon, and the air turned so muggy you had to work at breathing. Meghan and her daddy were sitting on the front porch, lazily pushing back and forth in the swing.

  “You excited about leaving?” he asked.

  “I sure am.”

  Of course Meghan was ready. She’d been ready for a long time. Before the end of her junior year, she had recommendation letters from three teachers, her soccer coach, and the pastor at Good Shepherd Church. Her dream had become a reality when she’d been accepted to the Grady College of Journalism, and now, in seven short weeks, she would be leaving for Athens.

  George Briggs reached across and took his daughter’s hand in his.

  “I’m awfully proud of you,” he said, “but I’m going to miss having my little helper.”

  “I’m not gone yet,” she replied. “I can help out until the middle of August. Maybe by then you can get somebody . . .”

  Five years earlier, when George had had his first heart attack, he’d resigned his job as a stockbroker and bought the Snip ’N’ Save magazine. He’d viewed owning it as a less stressful way to make a living. In the beginning, it was a simple thing to produce the weekly eight-page booklet with front-to-back coupons for savings on everything from a car to a package of toilet paper. But in five years, George’s keen business acumen couldn’t help shining through and had caused the magazine to grow to the point where it was now forty-eight pages and at times went as high as sixty-four.

  The room that was once a den was now the office of the Snip ’N’ Save. It was in the rear of the house behind the dining room. There was space for two desks but little else. Finding a person to work in such an environment was rather unlikely.

  “Maybe Mom or Tracy could help,” Meghan suggested.

  Her daddy turned with a smile. “You know how your mama is with computers.”

  With Lila there was plenty of cause for concern. Although she was a whiz in the kitchen, when it came to computers, she was at a loss. Something as simple as multiple attachments threw her into a tizzy. She’d download an advertising order, then find it impossible to locate in the computer. Staring at the screen helplessly, she’d mumble, “It’s gone. Simply gone.”

  Tracy had her job at the bank, and when she wasn’t working, she was generally off with Dominic. College was not and had never been part of Tracy’s agenda, and neither was working alongside her daddy at the Snip ’N’ Save.

  “Don’t worry,” George said, then gave Meghan’s hand an affectionate squeeze. “I may decide to cut back to thirty-two pages and just turn people away once the issue is sold out.”

  She laughed. “Daddy, you know you’re never going to turn anyone away.”

  Accepting that she was right, he laughed along with her.

  Despite the heat and beads of sweat trickling down their backs, they sat and talked for nearly an hour. Then Lila called for them to come inside where it was cool and have a dish of ice cream. Afterward, Meghan headed for her bedroom where once again she looked through the Grady brochures that she’d read a hundred times before. George took the June issue of Businessweek and settled in the living room. Lila puttered around the kitchen until almost eleven, then went in to wake George. She’d looked in on him earlier, but he’d fallen asleep in the chair as he so often did.

  She shook his arm and said, “Honey, it’s time for bed.”

  Moments later, the most horrifying scream ever heard echoed through the house. It wound its way up the staircase, beneath closed doors, and into the far corners of every room. Meghan bolted from the bed and took the stairs two at a time. Following the sound of Lila’s cries, she headed for the living room.

  “What happened?”

  Lila was sitting on the floor, her head buried in George’s lap. Sobbing hysterically, she could barely gather enough strength to speak.

  “Your daddy . . . ,” she said, the tears making her breath hitch, and then her words fell away.

  Although Meghan’s shirt was still wet with perspiration from the heat of the day, she shivered with the icy thought left hanging in the air. She knelt beside her daddy, took his limp hand in hers, and understood the reality of what wa
s.

  “Oh, Daddy,” she cried, and dropped her head onto his arm.

  When Tracy was with Dominic, she inevitably turned off her cell phone. If she was snuggled into his arms, the only thing she cared about was the feel of his mouth pressed hungrily against hers. The rest of the world could wait.

  By the time he dropped her off in front of the house, the ambulance had come and gone, taking George with it. There were still two cars parked in the driveway. The black sedan belonged to Dr. Elliott, who’d given Lila a sedative to calm her. In front of the sedan was a patrol car. Two officers had arrived on the heels of the ambulance and stayed even after the medics carried George’s body out.

  Tracy rushed in, breathless. “What’s going on?”

  Lila was lying on the sofa with a damp cloth folded across her forehead, but she popped up the moment she heard Tracy’s voice.

  “Where were you?” she said angrily. “We’ve been calling for hours!”

  “With Dominic,” Tracy replied, then she went back to asking what was wrong.

  “It’s Daddy,” Meghan said tearfully. “We think he had another heart attack.”

  “Is he okay?”

  Even as she asked the question, Tracy knew the answer. It was visible in the slump of Meghan’s shoulders and the glassy look in her mama’s eyes. She dropped onto the sofa beside Lila and gave a sorrowful sigh.

  “Oh, Mama, I’m so sorry. I should’ve been here. If I’d known . . .”

  Meghan looked across at her sister. “You couldn’t have done anything anyway. Daddy was gone when Mama found him.”

  In the wee hours of the morning, Lila fell asleep on the sofa with Tracy curled into a ball beside her. Meghan took the afghan from the back of the chair, spread it across the two of them, then turned off the light and went into the Snip ’N’ Save office.

  In here she could still feel her daddy. She could leaf through the organized clutter on his desk and make herself believe she would find him sitting there the next morning. There was a measure of comfort in running her fingers across his keyboard, in scooting down in his chair and bracing her stretched-out legs against the back of the desk as he did.

  She sat for a while. Then, without thinking, she moved the mouse and clicked on the e-mail icon. Three new ads had come in. Meghan downloaded them, sorted them into folders, and then clicked on his calendar.