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It was a full, unopened jar of raspberry jam. I curled the warm jar into my chest, hugging it tight. “Thank you. For everything, Sam.”
“You’re welcome, Ava.”
I walked across the sandy street knowing he would watch protectively until I was inside. As I slowly climbed the steps of Dez’s porch, I couldn’t stop thinking about how Sam hadn’t thought twice about taking care of me this morning, taking me in. He made sure I ate something, got a little strength back. He’d shared his mom’s magical jam and Norman and a little of himself, too.
The wind gusted, nearly knocking me off-balance as I used the key Dez had given me to unlock his front door. A blast of cool air-conditioned air poured over me as I pushed the door open. But before I went inside, I turned to wave at Sam.
He waved back, then ducked inside his home and closed the door.
I kept tight hold of the jar he’d given me as I stepped through the doorway, knowing without a doubt that the jam was the least of the gifts Sam had given me this morning.
MAGGIE
“She’s sound asleep.” I stepped off the bottom stair as quietly as I could.
I’d arrived at Dad’s house only moments ago and had gone straight upstairs to see how Ava was feeling and found her curled up on the unmade bed. I’d resisted the urge to tuck a pillow under her head, spread a blanket over her, and check her forehead for a fever, forcing myself to let her be.
I almost hadn’t gone upstairs at all, still hearing Estrelle’s voice in my head, telling me I let fear guide my choices. Butsometimes fear was warranted. Like when you were worried about someone, worried aboutlosingsomeone. I was astonished at how quickly I’d become attached to Ava, caring about her, her well-being.
Dad adjusted a box on the stack next to the front door, then headed for the great room. “The tiny sprite has done wore herself out. She’s been nonstop since she got to town.”
My head ached. I’d been on edge since Donovan’s visit this morning, because of his sad smile. And because of what he’d said about Roscoe, too. About the coffee shop’s deed.
I eased my way through a maze of boxes in the hallway, which had seemed only to multiply in the last few days. Molly appeared out of nowhere, dashing past me toward the stairs, and I stumbled in an attempt to not trip over her.
I could practically hear her laughing as she sat down halfway up the stairs and curled her tail around her paws.
“Not amusing,” I said to her.
Her whiskers twitched as though she disagreed.
I left her there, gloating, and followed Dad into the great room.
“Ava mentioned she’s not been eating well since Alexander died,” I said, “but I’m starting to wonder if there’s more to it.”
It was so strange to talk about the man like I knew him personally. Though, I supposed I did, in a way. Ava had painted such a vivid picture of him, his personality. Everyone knew an Alexander. A free-spirited adventurer. Like how Dad used to be.
“Grief sure can tear you up, inside and out. I lost ten pounds after your mother… went missing.” He let out a huff. “I couldn’t eat seafood for years—it reminded me too much of the smell of that day. Don’t know if you recall how bad the sargassum was that year.”
I recalled. The smelly seaweed had stunk up the beach on and off for several months. And I still had nightmares about my mama getting tangled in it.
As much as I didn’t want to think about that day, or howmy mama was still missing, I recognized this was the perfect opening to talk about the shop and the deed. Especially since Dad hadn’t yet noticed my custom T-shirt.
He crouched down in front of another box. “Ava will find her way through just like we are.”
I sat on the arm of the sofa, took a deep breath, and took the plunge. “Is that what’s going on with you lately? You’re finding your way through?”
He glanced at me and finally noticed the shirt. A bushy eyebrow raised in disapproval. “Some.”
“Listen, I wouldn’t have had to make a T-shirt if you’d put an end to the gossip.”
Listen. I was starting to talk like Donovan. How easily he’d worked himself into my subconscious. Though, I supposed, he’d always been there, hadn’t he? Lurking.
I pressed on before I lost my nerve. “Now there’s talk going around about how you went to see the probate lawyer about the shop’s deed. What do you say about that?”
“About the deed?” He shook his head. “I can assure you, Magpie, that I did not visit Orrel about the deed. Hand to God.”
Truth gleamed in his eyes, but hiding in the shadows was a flicker of deception. He was dancing around why he’d really been there.
