Her Second-Chance Family. Holly Jacobs
toward Audrey.
“How’d it go?” Audrey asked as Willow slid in beside her.
“Well, I had to threaten him...”
“Willow.”
Willow laughed. “With quinoa. Well, quinoa and you. Anyway, he finally agreed. Reluctantly.”
Audrey couldn’t help but grin. She knew that Willow probably wouldn’t see Sawyer agreeing to let her work for free all summer as a victory, but it was. The girl had set her mind to a goal and she’d achieved it. As far as Audrey could tell, there hadn’t been very many victories in Willow’s life.
“That’s great, Willow.”
“Says the woman who’s not going to spend her summer mowing a huge lawn for nothing.”
Audrey’s smile faded. “Not for nothing.”
She knew how guilt could eat at someone. Even if it was guilt over circumstances that weren’t entirely your fault. She didn’t want that for Willow. And the juvenile court system’s slap on the wrist wasn’t enough to assuage Willow’s guilt. But a summer of sweating under the hot sun, doing something tangible for Sawyer...that might.
“No, not for nothing,” Willow admitted.
Audrey’s smile was firmly back in place as she announced, “Well, this calls for a celebration. School’s officially over. You’ve accomplished your goal.”
“Your goal,” Willow sniped.
Audrey glanced at her. The merest hint of a smile was playing at the edges of Willow’s scowl.
Audrey took that as a good sign. “Hey, no matter who set the goal, it’s been met, so we’re celebrating.”
“You all look for reasons to celebrate,” Willow groused. After a pause, she added, “What do you have in mind?”
“I know just the thing,” Audrey assured her.
“Quinoa salad?” Willow teased.
Again, Audrey felt encouraged. Maybe she was finally reaching Willow. She wanted to. She’d been doing everything she could think of since the day the teenager walked into her house.
“Something even better,” she assured Willow. “Yeah, I know it’s hard to believe there’s anything better, but this might qualify. We’ll do dinner at home, then head out.”
They drove the five minutes back to her house and found Maggie May waiting at the front door when they pulled in.
“So how did it go?” she called as Audrey and Willow got out of the car.
When Audrey had bought her house in Wesleyville—a borough between the city of Erie and the Harborcreek home they’d just come from—she’d thought the small house with the big yard had everything she needed. She’d slowly renovated and rehabbed the house until it had everything she wanted, as well.
But it turned out the small house had one huge bonus that no real estate agent could have known about. It had come with Maggie Mayberry as a next-door neighbor.
Maggie May, as the kids called her, was somewhere south of sixty and widowed. She had watched the kids during summer vacations since they’d moved in. Over the past few years Maggie had become more than a neighbor; she’d become family.
“He said yes,” Willow said. “I had to threaten him, though,” she added with a grin.
“With?” Maggie asked.
“Quinoa.” Willow said it as if it were a curse word.
“Hey, you said quinoa was better than you thought,” Audrey protested.
Willow and Maggie both laughed. “It is good,” Audrey protested even as she joined in.
“Congratulations, Willow,” Maggie said.
“We’re going to go to the peninsula tonight,” Audrey told her. “You’re invited for dinner and a sunset.”
“Ask me next time,” Maggie May said. “We both know there will be a next time sooner rather than later. I’ve got a date tonight.”
“Do tell?” Audrey said.
Maggie offered her a small, mysterious smile. “It’s only our second one. If he makes it past date five, I’ll tell.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Audrey assured her.
As Maggie disappeared into her own home, Willow said, “A sunset? We’re going to celebrate with a sunset?”
“Have you ever gone out to the peninsula for sunset?” Audrey countered.
“No.” Willow’s tone made it obvious that she didn’t think a sunset could qualify as much of a celebration.
“Then give it a try and tell me later what you think.”
The sunsets on Erie’s Presque Isle peninsula were one of her favorite parts of summer. When she sat on the rocky beach staring out at the western horizon, all she could see was water and sky. The world seemed limitless.
“A sunset...” Willow muttered as she stalked into the house.
Audrey sighed. Willow had only lived with her since February—not quite half a year. One day soon she’d really reach her.
She just had to keep trying and be patient.
Unfortunately, patience wasn’t one of Audrey’s greatest gifts.
It wasn’t even a minor gift, if she was being honest with herself.
She picked up the mail, placed the bills in one pile and dropped the junk mail in another. There was one envelope that was obviously neither. She opened it and felt sick. It was an invitation to her ten-year high school reunion, the last Saturday in August at the Bayfront Convention Center.
Her heart sank. She didn’t want to go. She doubted that Merrill or Ava would be there, and other than the two of them, there was no one she really wanted to see. Actually, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to see Merrill and Ava. They’d kept in touch, but only just barely since high school.
She didn’t want to look back. There was nothing to be gained by it.
“Aud,” Clinton and Bea shouted in unison.
Audrey crumpled the invitation and put it in the recycle pile. She turned her attention to the kids.
“It’s official,” Clinton announced. “We’re on summer vacation.”
“And Willow finally convinced Mr. Williams to let her mow his lawn,” Audrey said.
“Good for you, Willow,” Clinton called up the stairs. Audrey guessed the girl had made a beeline for her bedroom, confirmed moments later by the sound of a door slamming.
Clinton was only a year younger than Willow, but in so many ways he was much older. He’d grown up too soon and she knew that part of that was her fault. She felt a familiar stab of pain. She’d done her best to give him a childhood, but she wasn’t always sure that her best had been good enough. At least she had given him security and a family.
“I thought we’d go to the beach to celebrate the official start to our summer and Willow’s successful campaign.”
“Sunset,” Bea squealed. “Our first one of the year. It’s still too cold to swim, right?”
It had been a brutal winter that hadn’t given way to spring until almost April. Two months hadn’t been enough to warm the Great Lake up enough for Audrey to swim, or even dunk her toes. “Well, too cold for me,” she told the ten-year-old.
Bea’s long brown braid bounced against her back. Bianca Cruz was built of sturdier stuff than Audrey. Over the winter, while Audrey had dressed in layers, Bea had walked around barefoot. “I’ll put my suit on just in case.”