Sugarplum Homecoming

“Tell me about yourself, Lana,” he said, tapping the wall above the bathroom sink with his knuckles. “What happened to your singing career in Nashville?”

“You knew I lived there?”

“This is Whisper Falls. We hear everything. Usually, about five minutes after it happens.”

He was right, and the memory of a small, gossipy town was not a comfort. People would remember her teen years. People would gossip. All she could do was pray the talk didn’t harm Sydney. There would be enough speculation about her as it was.

“So what about Nashville?” He leaned forward to inspect the hot water tank. Other than being coated in dust and cobwebs, it worked. She knew that already.

“The usual, I guess. I thought I was a better singer than I am. But I had some great experiences.” Some lousy ones, too. “I sang for my supper, met some famous stars.” Usually at the hotel where she’d cleaned rooms, though she’d once encountered Faith Hill and Tim McGraw coming out of Banana Republic with their kids.

“I remember when you and your sister used to sing the national anthem at the football games. You were good. Where’s Tess living now?”

That was anyone’s guess. Under a bridge. In a crack house. But hopefully, in the same mission that had brought Lana to Christ. “She’s still in Nashville.”

The conversation was beginning to take an uncomfortable turn. Lana didn’t want to discuss Tess or Nashville for that matter.

“You’ve lived a glamorous life. Why come back to Whisper Falls?”

Glamorous? “Time to settle down. Sydney needs to be settled in one place, one school, and the music industry is not always a stable lifestyle. Anyway, it wasn’t for me.”

“I get that. My kids are everything. I’d walk on fire for them.”

“Or climb Whisper Falls?” Lana asked, surprised at the easy joke.

“Exactly.”

He opened the vanity cabinet. A dead mouse smell rushed out.

“Eww.” Lana grabbed her nose and backed out of the small space into the hallway. Davis, more resourceful, leaned over the tub to shove open a tiny window. Fresh air, spurred by the breeze, swirled inside, but the stench remained. Outside, an overgrown pine scraped against the screen, dropping pine needles without enough scent to matter.

Davis followed her out into the hall, pulling the door behind him. “Let that air a while.”

“Good idea. Maybe for a year.”

“If you’ve got a plastic bag, I’ll see if I can find and remove the source.”

In the narrow hallway, they were crowded. If either moved more than a few inches they would be touching. Rather, she’d be touching that work-muscled chest of his. A man who carried boxes of tile and grouting mud had to be strong.

“You’d do that?”

Davis didn’t seem to notice her discomfiture. He tilted his head, looking down at her while she looked up. “I work in remodels. You wouldn’t believe some of the things I find behind walls and under old cabinets.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and shivered in pretend horror, though the ploy was more to get her mind off him than true repugnance. “I don’t think I want to know.”

After he had dispatched the mouse carcass, for which she would forever be grateful, they made their way on through the house. Lana watched in dismay as his list of repairs grew longer and longer.

By the time they’d worked the way back to the kitchen, the kids came flying through the back door, faces red and sweaty.

“We’re thirsty,” Sydney said. “I wish we had some pop.”

“Sorry, peanut. Water will have to do. It’s all we have.”

None of the trio looked all that thrilled with ordinary water but Lana scrubbed three glasses and filled them. They gulped it down and wiped hands across their faces.

Nathan, who was too cute for words, plunked his empty glass on the counter. Cheeks as red as a slap, he looked from Lana to Davis and said, “This is nice.”

Paige grabbed his arm. “Let’s go, Nathan.”

“Why? I want to see if Daddy and Lana are having fun, too.”

The little boy’s comment amused and touched her, too. He was having fun. He wanted his daddy to have a good time, too.

“Nathan,” Paige said urgently. “Let God do the work.” She put her fingers to her lips and twisted in the classic gesture of turning a key in a lock. Whatever the boy was about to say, his sister wanted him to be quiet.

Nathan opened his mouth as if to protest but then closed it again. “Okay.”

“Last one to the apple tree is a monkey’s uncle,” Paige said. And away they flew.

Lana cocked her head. “I wonder what that was all about.”

“With those two, don’t even ask.”

“I think they’re enjoying themselves,” she said. Thank you, Lord. Seeing Sydney carefree made the sacrifice of coming back to this town worth it.

“I wouldn’t mind a glass of that water myself.” Davis stuck his hands beneath the faucet and scrubbed. “I can wash my own glass.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Too late.” He stuck a glass beneath the spray and scrubbed. Then he filled and drank. With his hips leaning against the sink, he faced her. She could see he had something on his mind.

“Am I crazy for trying to live in this run-down old house?” she asked. “Is that what you’re about to say?”

“What? No. Most of this is cosmetic.” He waved a hand around in the air. “Structure is sound, plumbing is old but sturdy. Electrical box looks fairly new. Lots of work and a fair expenditure of money but livable.”

Lana drew a deep breath through her nose. The knot in her neck eased. As much as she wanted to do this on her own, she couldn’t. If she was alone, she wouldn’t care where she lived. But Sydney mattered. “You’re hired.”

“Don’t rush into anything. I’m pretty booked up right now with the holidays on the horizon, but I’ll run some figures for you, work up an estimate, talk to other contractors. Then we’ll need to talk budget.”

“Small.” She eased into a chair. “I want to do most of the work myself, but some of these things...” She shrugged.

“There you go, then. Start there. Take this list.” He handed her the tablet. “Figure out what you want to do yourself. Then sub out the rest to the experts. I can give you a list of those, too.”

“You’ve been a lot of help.”

“That’s what neighbors do.”

Neighbors? Really? Then where had they been years ago when she and Tess had needed them?

Chapter Four

The next evening after a long, fruitful day of work, Davis hurried up the sidewalk to his sister’s home to collect his children. Jenny had been, quite literally, a godsend after Cheryl’s death. A homeschooling, stay-at-home mom married to an accountant, she lived on the opposite side of town from Davis, which in Whisper Falls wasn’t that far. Located in a newer addition along the bluff overlooking the Blackberry River, the speckled brick house had an aboveground pool in the backyard, closed now for the season, and a massive play fort that kept his kids enthralled for hours.

He let himself inside his sister’s house which always smelled of candle scents and looked freshly polished. Every piece of furniture, every flower arrangement and picture was pristine. He marveled at how well Jenny managed with his kids and hers, including a son with health challenges, and two cocker spaniels.

“Anybody home?” he called, his usual announcement, and one that started the dogs barking.

“Daddy!” a joyful voice squealed. In seconds, Nathan came racing into the living room, a red superhero cape flying out behind him. He leaped into Davis’s arms and wrapped his legs around his daddy’s waist.

The weary workday melted away in the warm, exuberant little-boy hug from his son. His baby. The child he’d made with a woman he loved. He thanked God every day for his kids. They’d kept him sane when he’d wanted to curl into a ball and let go of life.

Though sometimes he still ached from the lonely spot Cheryl had left behind, he was a content man. Breathing deep, he held his son close to his chest, not caring that he was dirty and stained with grout. Life didn’t get any better than the love of his sweet little boy and girl.

Jenny came around the dining room divider, smiling as she wiped her hands on a dish towel. Blonde and almost as tall as he, his sister had continued to gain weight after twin boys were born seven years ago. He thought she looked okay, but Jenny worried about being fat and was on some kind of crazy diet more often than not.

“You look bushed,” she said. “Want to sit a while and have some tea?”

Davis shook his head. “Thanks, but no. Laundry to do tonight.”

“You got a minute then? I want to ask you about something.”

“Sure.” He shifted, repositioning Nathan onto his hip. The boy’s legs were starting to dangle like octopus tentacles, a sign he would soon be too big to leap into his daddy’s embrace. Davis wasn’t ready for that. “What’s up?”

“The kids told me Lana Ross has moved back into her family’s old house.”

“True.”

“They also said you’d been over to see her. Twice.” He could see his sister was not happy about his friendliness. Never one to keep her opinions to herself, if Jenny had something to say, she’d say it. Sometimes that propensity was a good thing, but not always.

“True, as well. Being neighborly.” He unwound Nathan’s arms and let him slide to the floor. “Go get your sister, bud. We gotta go.”

Jenny waited until Nathan skidded around the corner, spaniels in nail-tapping pursuit, before continuing. “Is Lana planning to stay in Whisper Falls?”

“I didn’t ask her, but she’s remodeling the Ross house. I figure that’s a sign she’s here for good.”

“You’re not going to get involved with that, are you?”

Her tone raised bristles on the back of his neck. “I might. Why?”

“Davis, don’t you remember Lana Ross at all? What she was? How she was always in trouble, always doing the worst possible things? Surely, you aren’t going to let your children associate with a woman like her.”

Davis sucked in a chest full of air and tilted back on his boot heels. Jenny was protective of him and his kids, especially since Cheryl’s death. Besides, hadn’t he thought the same things about Lana?

“Come on, Jen, that was years ago. Teenagers do crazy things but they grow up.”

“Maybe. But where has she been all this time? What has she been doing? Why would she come back here where everyone knows about her?”

“Maybe because she owns a house here?” he said with a hint of sarcasm, hands up and out. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t risk your children to find out. Stay clear of her, Davis. She’s a bad influence.”

“Sis. Come on. Chill out. This is not like you. Lana is new in town. Even though she was born here, she’s been gone for years. She’s in my neighborhood.”

“Which does not mean you have to associate with her. You have plenty of friends.” She put a hand on his arm in a gesture of concern, her eyes worried. “Keep a nice, safe distance. That’s all I’m asking.”

“Too late for that. Nathan and Paige like her and her little girl. They’re already begging to have Sydney to the house for a sleepover.”

Jenny’s head dropped backward as she gave an exasperated sigh. “That’s another thing. Lana has a child. I’ll bet you anything she isn’t married. If she’s like she was in high school, she probably doesn’t even know who the father is.”

Davis’s jaw tightened. He loved his sister and appreciated her help, but she was taking this too far. In a deceptively quiet voice, he said, “Passing judgment, are we, sis?”

Jenny’s chin went up. Her nostrils flared below pale eyes that arced fire. “Not in the least. Protecting our loved ones from harm is a Christian responsibility. Remember what Dad used to tell us about running with the wrong people? The Bible even warns against ‘casting your pearls before swine.’”

“Wait a minute. Stop right there.” She was starting to get under his skin. “Are you calling Lana a swine? You don’t even know her.”

“But I remember her. We had more than one run-in during high school.” Jenny twisted the towel as if wringing Lana’s neck. Or his. “I love your kids. I don’t want them exposed to alcohol and drugs and Lord only knows what else. Do you want them to have a reputation like those awful Ross sisters?”

“They’re in grade school, for crying out loud! Come on, Jenny. You’re being ridiculous.”

And she was making him uncomfortable. Hadn’t he struggled with these same, ugly thoughts yesterday? Yet, Lana and her little girl gave no sign of being anything but decent people. Even if they weren’t, didn’t God expect him to show grace and charity?

But he wanted to protect his children, too.

While brother and sister stared each other down and Davis wrestled with his thoughts, Nathan and Paige entered the room, followed by seven-year-old twins Charlie and Kent. The boys were apple-cheeked replicas of their dark-skinned father, though Charlie was smaller and wore a pallor lacking in his healthier sibling. Born with a heart defect, he’d had surgery soon after birth but he still took medication and had never been quite as vigorous as Kent. His condition was the main reason Jenny homeschooled. A valve replacement was in his near future, a fact that stressed the whole family, especially Jenny. Because of Charlie’s uncertain health, Davis felt for his sister, but she could make him crazy, too.

“Ready?” Davis asked, grateful for the interruption to the contentious conversation. He was a peacemaker. Arguments made him miserable. Besides, his sister had enough on her plate. He didn’t want to add to her worries by fighting over a woman neither of them knew that well.

But he was also a grown man, capable of making his own decisions and caring for his children. He didn’t need his baby sister’s dire warnings.

“Can we go see Sydney when we get home?” Nathan asked, presenting a cupcake smashed inside a Ziploc bag. “I saved her half of my cupcake.”

Jenny hissed, her glare burning a hole into her brother. “See?”

Davis ignored her. “That was really thoughtful of you, son.”

“Paige saved all of hers for Lana.” Nathan nodded sagely. “She has brown hair.”

“My cupcake! I almost forgot.” Paige clapped a hand against her forehead. “Wait a minute, Daddy, while I go get it.”

His little girl hurried out of the room.

Jenny rolled her eyes at Davis. “Nathan has mentioned brown hair several times today. He even drew a picture of a woman with brown hair. What is that about?”

Davis shrugged. “Couldn’t say. Why don’t you ask him?” He dropped a hand on his son’s shoulder. “What’s the deal, Lucille? Why are you suddenly obsessed with brown hair?”

“Because,” Nathan said, his voice exasperated as if Davis should understand. “Me and Paige prayed. God is going to send us a new mom with brown hair.”

“What?” Davis exchanged stunned glances with his sister. This did not sound good.

“Don’t you see, Daddy?” Nathan stretched his small arms wide, the smashed cupcake dangling in its bag. “After we prayed, Lana moved into the haunted house. Get it?”

A slow dawning broke through Davis’s thoughts. “Was that why you climbed up Whisper Falls? To pray for a new mom with brown hair?”

Nathan slapped a hand over his mouth. “I wasn’t supposed to tell. Paige says we have to let God do the work. We’re just His helpers.”

Davis squeezed the small shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

The kids had prayed. Lana Ross had moved in. She was single—and she had brown hair.

Naturally, their wild imaginations would take over and assume Lana was God’s answer.

He raised his eyes from his son’s dejected body to his sister’s face.

“This is already getting out of hand, Davis.”

He dragged a hand down his face and felt the rough dryness of tile glue still stuck to his fingers. “No kidding.”

Jenny touched his arm. “Promise me you’ll be careful, okay? You know what she is even if they don’t. These kids have been hurt enough.”

Davis’s belly took a nosedive.

How could he argue with that?

* * *

Lana drove through the quiet, lazy town of Whisper Falls—past the train depot in the center town circle, past the Tress and Tan Salon, Jessup’s Pharmacy, Aunt Annie’s Antiques, and nearly drooled at the delights in the window of the Sweets and Eats candy store. The town didn’t look as tired and run-down as it had when she’d left, when it had been Millerville.

“Look, Lana.” Sydney, on the passenger side of the car, whipped her head toward Lana, eyes widened. “Sorry. I meant Mom.”

Though Lana had been Sydney’s primary caregiver most of her life, she’d never usurped Tess’s title as Mom. Until now.

“You understand why it’s important that everyone believe you’re my daughter, don’t you, peanut?”

Sydney nodded. “So I don’t have to go to foster care.”

“That’s the gist of the matter. But if you slip up and say my name instead, we’ll just pretend that’s the way we do things. Okay?”

Pretending—or more accurately, lying—bothered Lana. She’d promised the Lord to change her bad habits but shading the truth was for Sydney’s protection. Surely, God would agree the end justified the means when a child’s well-being was on the line. Wouldn’t He?

Sydney nodded though her expression was worried. “I remember what happened in Nashville when that woman came to school and asked me all those questions about you and Mama and where we lived. I was real scared. I thought I might never see you again.”

Lana reached across the console to pat her niece’s knee, taking note that Sydney didn’t worry about the loss of her birth mother. She worried about losing the aunt who’d raised her. “I know, baby. That’s why we’re here now. Nobody is going to take you away. Not ever.”

“You won’t let them, will you?”

“No.” Not as long as I have breath in my body and legs that can run.

Because of Tess’s constant run-ins with the law, the child protective agency had investigated Sydney’s living situation. The interview at school had been a warning to Lana that she might lose Sydney if she didn’t take action. So she had. With her own less-than-stellar background, she feared social services would reject her as well as Tess—the reasons she and Sydney had come to Whisper Falls, the one place Lana had never wanted to see again.

“I didn’t mean to tell my teacher about living in the car. It just kind of slipped out when she asked about making a fire escape plan for our house.”

“It’s okay. You’re safe. We’re going to have a good, good life in Whisper Falls.” No matter what it takes.

“Are we having Christmas here?”

“Christmas?” Lana said, laughing softly. “We’re barely into November.”

“But look.” Sydney’s nail-gnawed fingertip pecked against the passenger window.

City workers high on the “cherry picker” lifts normally used to change streetlights, strung Christmas decorations across the short five-block main street. Christmas. She was always amazed how quickly the holiday arrived once October slipped away. With Thanksgiving on the horizon, Christmas, and winter, would be upon them before she could get the house in shape.

Unless she enlisted considerable assistance.

Her thoughts flashed to Davis Turner. He’d actually made her feel welcome as if her ugly reputation wasn’t dancing around inside his head. As if she would be accepted in her old hometown.

He’d given her hope.

With Sydney jabbering about Christmas and wondering if Paige would be in her class at school, Lana drove through town, turning down a side street and into a residential area that led to the school. A long, low, redbrick complex of buildings and facilities, the school had grown considerably since her days of skipping class to smoke in the gym locker room.

But Jesus had wiped her slate clean. All she had to do was convince the rest of the world she’d changed.

Tall order.

She parked the car and went inside the elementary school, holding Sydney’s hand. Lana’s own palm sweated, though the temperature wasn’t overly warm as they stepped through the door marked Principal. Memories flashed. Detentions, threats, suspensions. Her own smirks and bad attitude. Not in this particular office, but in others like it.

Lord, she’d been a nightmare.

“May I help you?”

The woman behind the reception desk looked familiar. Lana glanced at the nameplate. Wendy Begley.

Choosing her words carefully, Lana said, “My little girl needs to enroll in third grade.”

Wendy turned her attention to Sydney with a smile. “What’s your name, honey?”

“Sydney Ross, ma’am. Are you the principal?”

“No, honey. The principal is up in the high school right now. I’m the secretary.” Her eyes lifted to Lana. “I thought I recognized you. Lana Ross, right? Or is it Tess?”

“Lana.”

“I don’t know if you remember me. I was a few years behind you in school but I remember you and your sister, the infamous Ross girls.” She gave a soft chuckle that held no rancor. “I used to be Wendy Westerfeld. Married Doug Begley. You remember him, don’t you? His daddy owned the car wash. We have it now that Gordon retired.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Lana did her best to appear bland and polite but inwardly she cringed. She remembered Doug all right. He’d been a party to a few of her self-destructive moments. “Do we need to fill out some paperwork to get Sydney enrolled?”

“Do you have her records from the other school?”

“Uh, no. We, uh, I—homeschooled her. We moved around a lot with my job.” Liar, liar. Forgive me, God. “I have her shot record and birth certificate, though.”

Before the other woman could inquire more deeply, Lana handed over the records.

Wendy took the documents to a file cabinet where she extracted a folder and a packet of papers. “Here is the enrollment packet. The paperwork is lengthy so you can take the whole packet home if you’d like and send it back with Sydney tomorrow.”

Lana accepted the thick stack, thankful for the relaxed manner of a small-town school. Trusting and nice, and oh, she wanted to be worthy of both those things. “Sounds good. Thank you.”

“All I need today is this top form of contact info, emergency numbers, that kind of thing. Will she be riding the bus?”

“We live in town. I’ll drive her.”

Wendy made a notation on the form. “Cafeteria or bringing her lunch?”

“Cafeteria for now. How much money does she need?”

Wendy named the amount and Lana paid for the week, relieved that the enrollment was going so well. She held her breath while the secretary made a copy of Sydney’s birth certificate without so much as a glance at the parent’s name and slid the copy into a folder.

One hurdle down.

Afterward, Wendy walked them down a long hallway decorated in happy primary colors and motivational bulletin boards to one of the third-grade classrooms to meet Sydney’s new teacher.

With a final hug, Sydney hitched her Hello Kitty backpack and disappeared into the classroom. As the frosty-haired teacher closed the door, Wendy said, “Mrs. Pierce is a wonderful veteran teacher. Sydney will love her class.”

“She’s kind of shy.”

“She’ll be fine.”

Lana’s boot heels tapped against the white tile floor as they headed back toward the office. “You have children?”

“Four of the little boogers. Two, six, eight and ten.” Wendy laughed. “That adorable two-year-old snuck up on us.”

Lana laughed, too, relieved and grateful to Wendy Begley for her easy, welcoming demeanor. The school had chosen their secretary well.

She was beginning to think her return to Whisper Falls would not be as difficult as she’d imagined when another woman stepped into the office.

“Here’s our principal now,” Wendy said as she regained her desk chair. “Ms. Chester, do you remember Lana Ross? She just enrolled her daughter in third grade.”

“Lana,” the woman said coolly, slowly turning on black, shiny pumps, her suit the color of eggplant and her eyes as frosty as January. “How...interesting to see you again. What brings you back to this dull little mountain town?”