Her eyes shot wide and then narrowed. “Why’d you treat Cathy like that?”

  Avery set her cup down. “Like what?”

  “Like she was white trash trying to scam money from that precious Dumont family.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “You did. Cathy loves you. She wanted to be here for all your wedding details, knowing our mother wouldn’t show.”

  “I don’t need her for my wedding. I needed her when Mom disappeared.”

  Zoey tossed her book bag down. “She couldn’t be here because her husband died and her kids left her. She was depressed, a wreck, and had nothing left to give.”

  “What?” I shook my head, trying to clear the fog. “Her husband died, but her kids were there at the funeral. That was before Mom left.”

  Zoey huffed. “Yes, and before her breakdown. She needed Mom, too. She needed someone, but our mother wouldn’t let us go visit her.”

  “No, Mom said she didn’t want me up there. That I’d be in the way.”

  Avery tapped her cup. “And Mom’s always been so honest, right?”

  The truth seeped in, but I didn’t want it to. I’d been mad at Cathy all these years because she’d abandoned us, turned her back and didn’t want me any more than my own mother did. “Still, she hasn’t been sick all these years. You saw her. She’s happy and healthy.”

  Zoey collapsed onto a seat. “Yes, she did recover, but by that point you wouldn’t take her calls. She even offered money.”

  “I told her no once. There was no reason I’d take money from family who’d abandoned us. Besides, she never tried again.”

  Zoey toyed with her book bag strap and I knew there was more.

  “What else is there, Zoey? What are you hiding?” I collapsed into the chair between them.

  Zoey took a long breath. “You know how you said you thought there was longer to pay on the mortgage, but for some reason it was paid off?”

  “Yes, Mom said she paid it off.”

  Avery whistled. “You believe that?”

  The dark cloud of suspicion covered me. “Are you telling me that Aunt Cathy paid off the mortgage?”

  “And the car, and the electric bill those times we couldn’t pay it, those grocery store gift cards that showed up in our mailbox, and the Christmas cards with no return address with gift certificates. She never stopped giving. She wanted to come here to see us, but you’d never call her back. Then, when she found out you were getting married she knew she had to face you. That you needed a mother.”

  Shame filled me. “I-I didn’t know.”

  Zoey patted my hand resting in my lap. “She made me promise not to tell you. You two were so close before Mom left. From what I understand, she tried to come see us after her husband died, but Mom wouldn’t let her. Told her she didn’t want her bringing us down. That made her spiral into depression even more. If it wasn’t for her best friend, Judy, Cathy would’ve died of a broken heart.”

  “Mom didn’t keep her away because she didn’t want her bringing us down. She never liked how close I was to Aunt Cathy.” I searched my memories, the ones I’d buried so deep all these years to avoid the pain. I rubbed my chest, trying to alleviate the throbbing, but there was no escaping the truth.

  Avery patted my other hand. “You did your best. This isn’t your fault.”

  “Isn’t it? I’m always the one spouting about how important family is, yet I turned my back on the one person who truly cared.” I bowed my head, unable to face the world.

  “Stop it,” Avery scolded. “Now, you listen to me. You were in an impossible situation. The day you turned eighteen you had to face bills and social workers and school counselors. All of whom wanted to separate us, but you wouldn’t let that happen. You didn’t have time to deal with family drama. You had to raise us.”

  “Yeah, and she didn’t make it easy.” Zoey jabbed at Avery.

  “Hey.”

  Zoey took my hand and moved it on top of Avery’s so we had the sister grip with all of us clinging to each other. “I’m just saying we all had it tough. We all survived in our own way. What’s important is we stuck together, and we’ll continue to stick together. Sisters are forever.”

  Tears stung my eyes. “Thanks, you guys. I appreciate that.” I snagged my phone. “I’m going to try to reach Cathy now. It’s time we hashed a few things out.” It rang once and then went to voice mail. I hung up and looked to my sisters. “She call blocked me. Sent me to voice mail. I’ll give her some time to cool off. In the meantime, if you can try to call her, I’d appreciate it. I think she might need some nudging. If we can’t reach her by the time the fair is over, I’ll drive up there and stay on her front porch if I have to and make her listen.”

  “That’s the Sadie we love.” Avery squeezed my hand.

  I held tight to my sisters’ hands, feeling like we were unstoppable together. But how would we be apart? “Oh, I almost forgot. Ashton found a place. It’s on the north side of town and it has three bedrooms. He says it’s the perfect location for both of you to get to school when you want to crash with us and for me to attend college, too.” For the first time, I thought maybe this move to the north side of Atlanta would be a good thing.

  Avery and Zoey locked gazes with that smirk they’d perfected by age ten.

  “What?”

  The silence remained for a second longer as if they were communicating via telepathy. Zoey finally nodded and faced me. “Listen, we know Ashton means well, and we love him, but it’s time for you to move on to the next stage of your life. If we live with you, you’ll only continue to focus on us instead of your new life with your new husband.”

  Avery slid back, taking their connection with her. “What sweet Zoey is trying to spit out is that we don’t want to crash with you all the time, sis. You’ll be on us about our grades, and doing our laundry, and telling us to clean our rooms. We’re in college and want our own lives away from Mommy.”

  I smacked her. “I’m not your mother. I’m a referee, cook, and maid.”

  Zoey threw her arms around my shoulders. “No, you’re so much better than a mother. Please don’t hate your spoiled children for wanting to leave the nest.”

  “Geesh, dramatic much?” Avery stood and headed for the door. “Listen, you need to let us go. It’s time for you to decide what you want out of life. If you don’t know, then you better figure it out and quick.”

  “I want to marry Ashton, of course.”

  Avery turned on me. “It’s not about Ashton. You think just being Ashton Dumont’s wife is enough for you out of life? Marriage is only one aspect. What do you, Sadie Dixon, want to do with the rest of her life?”

  Seven

  Melanie from the coffee shop closed the box of scones and taped it shut. “I need five dozen tomorrow morning for the town council meeting. I’ll deliver for us.” She hugged me tight then released me and stepped back. “You know, between the two of us, we keep this town strung out on sugar and caffeine.”

  “County Commissioner Dunken says if it wasn’t for us they’d never stay awake long enough to hear all the town complaints during open meetings.”

  She stacked the boxes and I held the door open for her. “I heard Tom from the general store and Blake from the florist are having a turf war.”

  “I expect a detailed small town report by the end of the day.” I winked. If there was one thing about small towns, there was always entertainment, fighting, and lots of love. We were all just one big dysfunctional family.

  With Melanie’s exit came the morning rush of customers filling up on donuts and pastries. When it finally ended, and I had already been filled in on the great grocery store-florist battle, I welcomed a few minutes of quiet to wipe down the tables and clean up a bit, but first I had to try Cathy one more time. I dialed her number and after the second ring, she rejected my call and it went to voice mail.

  “You’ve reached Cathy West,” her voice mail message said. “Leave your number and if I want to talk to you I’ll call you back. If not, take the hint, Ms. Sadie Dixon-Dumont to-be.”

  The usual beep sounded, and I took a quick breath. “Cathy, I’m so sorry. I want you to understand that I didn’t know. If Mom would’ve told me how you were after Uncle Sam died, I would’ve been there for you.” I toed the linoleum floor, searching for the right words. “Listen, it’s time for us to duke it out good southern family style. You can tell me how awful I am, and I can tell you how much I miss you. Please call me.” I hung up and closed my eyes, holding the phone to my chest. With a silent prayer, I willed her to call me back, but after several minutes of silence, and a jingle at the front door, I had to abandon my hope.

  I turned and spotted the one person I never thought I’d see in Magnolia Corners, let alone this tiny bakery. Mrs. Dumont stood only a few feet away, and all of a sudden the counter between us didn’t seem large enough. My breath dried out quicker than day old French bread.

  Her judgmental gaze hopped around the room until it finally settled on me. “This is where you spend all your time?”

  I pushed my shoulders back. Maybe Cathy had a point. It was time for me to stick up for myself, or the rest of my life would be miserable. “Yes, I started working here right after I was let go from the country club. I run the place for the owner now. It’s paid the bills, mostly, and provides food for our table. I know it isn’t glamorous, but it’s been a great and friendly place to work.”

  She held up a gloved hand. Considering it was ninety degrees outside, I knew the layer of protection wasn’t due to the temperature. “I’m not here to fight with you. I know I’ve been…difficult.”

  Expensive and strong perfume wafted across the counter, murdering the aroma of fresh baked bread. She turned to one of the tables and motioned to the seat. “May I?”

  I grabbed the table rag and hurried around the counter. “Of course. Sorry, it was slammed in here a few minutes ago, and I couldn’t find the time to clean up.” I wiped down the table and then tossed the rag on the counter and wiped my hands on my apron.

  The timer dinged in the back, indicating the bread and my next batch of cookies were ready. “Please excuse me. I don’t want it to burn. I’ll be right back. Can I get you anything?’

  “How about one of those new cookies my son’s been raving about the last few days. An oodle?”

  “A snickerdoodle-oodle.” My heart flew into another hemisphere with happiness. He’d really liked my cookies. Maybe they did have a shot at winning the baking contest at the fair. “They aren’t gluten free though.”

  “It’s fine. I’m not allergic.” She delicately tugged on the fingers of her gloves one at a time until she pulled the gloves from her hands. “I just try to eat clean.”

  Unsure what clean eating meant, and not sure I wanted to know, I retrieved the bread and set it on the cooling rack, then the sheet of cookies. After plating the cookies, I returned to the small table and set them down, retrieved two napkins and two glasses of milk and settled in for a conversation I hoped would go better than the one with Cathy.

  She nibbled on the cookie as if it were a bomb she was trying to diffuse, but after a few seconds she took a real bite. I’d never seen Mrs. Dumont take a real bite of anything before.

  “It’s not polite to stare at someone while they’re eating, you know,” Mrs. Dumont scolded.

  “Sorry, I’m just anxious to know what you think. You see, I’ve tried to win this contest since I started working here. Of course the owner has won, but I’ve never won on my own.” I realized how small town that sounded, and I sat back, willing myself to sound a little more cultured.

  “I believe you have a shot. I mean, it’s not a chocolate religieuse crafted by Chef Pierre at the club, but it is good for a small-town bakery.”

  At the hope of bridging the eight-lane highway dividing the Eagles Landing Country Club lifestyle and tiny town Magnolia Corner’s country-isms, I’d check her statement as a win. “Well, good thing I’m competing in the small-town fair then.”

  “Yes.” As if she’d returned to her real persona, she dusted off crumbs and inferior remnants of the shop from her hands and replaced her gloves. “Listen, I’d like to speak to you about Ashton and your future. I heard he’s found a house and that your sisters will be moving in with you.”

  “No.”

  Mrs. Dumont raised a brow, one that indicated she wasn’t used to being interrupted or told she was wrong. “Excuse me?”

  I toyed with the cookie on my plate, inhaling the sweetness and steadying my resolve to not back down. “My sisters didn’t want to intrude on our new married life, so they told me they wouldn’t move in with us. That, and I think they want their big sister to stay out of their lives for a while.”

  “I see.” She scooted the plate away as if the scrumptious cookies would break her veneers if she took a bite. “That is good news. So, how do you feel about living up on the north side of town after being down here your entire life? How do you feel about attending corporate events and fundraisers? I know Ashton has told you these things are not important, but do you believe he wants to be successful at his job?”

  I nodded, knowing where she was going with this. “Yes, and I plan to support him.”

  “I’m happy to hear that, but what about you, Sadie? Will this make you happy? If you’re not happy, then your marriage won’t work. I want you to carefully consider the fact that you will be entering into Ashton’s world. I have no doubt you love him, but trust me when I tell you love isn’t enough when life gets complicated. I, too, struggled for a while with having to be the emotional support for Ashton and my husband. I graduated at the top of my class and could’ve been the president of a company like my husband, but I knew the two of us couldn’t both take on the corporate world.”

  “Why not?” I asked. “I mean, why can’t a wife be a career woman and a mom?” I wanted to show her the world had changed. That the stay-at-home mom wasn’t a necessity any more.

  “All I’m saying is that I grew up in this world, you didn’t. It is difficult enough to live something you are accustomed to, but when you must pretend you’re someone that you’re not, it’s much harder. You aren’t a debutant? You never had a coming out party. Are you prepared for long nights at corporate events where the wrong words from a wife could end a career? If so, then I will believe you, and I will support your relationship with my son. If not, please walk away. As a mother, one who stayed and raised her son, I assure you I only want what’s best for him.”

  I opened my mouth, but she held up her hand.

  “Don’t answer me now. I want you to think about this. You can tell me your answer tomorrow night. If you decide that you want to be part of our world, then join my husband and me for dinner. It won’t be a big production, but we can help you understand what you need to know to support Ashton. If you are fully committed to him, then we want to help make your transition into marriage easier.” She stood and offered her hand to me. She’d never even came close enough to accidentally run into me, let alone touch me on purpose. “For once, consider yourself, what you want. Not what’s best for everyone else.”

  I stood and took her hand, but I didn’t need to think about it. I knew how much I loved Ashton. There was no way I’d ever walk away from him.

  Eight

  Mrs. Dumont’s question continued to churn in my head. What do I really want?

  I wanted Ashton to be my husband. I wanted Cathy to forgive me. I wanted…wanted…to bake. Nothing made me happier than mixing various ingredients and watching the concoction morph into something deliciously different. It was like magic. Even if I didn’t know what a chocolate religieuse was, I could learn.

  Heck, I’d had excellent grades in school. Besides what Cathy had taught me, I’d learned the rest about baking by trial and error. Granted it was lots of errors.

  I snagged my laptop and faced the school applications, but the thought of learning math, social studies, and English didn’t excite me. The thought about learning how to make religieuse did.

  After a deep breath, I entered top bakery schools in Atlanta Georgia into the internet search engine. Le Cordon Bleu sounded fancy, so I clicked on the link and up popped images of desserts I’d never seen before, and programs I didn’t even know existed. My pulse quickened. I wanted to find out what every dessert on the page was, and how I could punch it up a little.

  Make it southern and sweet and sassy, like me.

  “Whatcha doing?” Avery snuck around the half-wall separating the kitchen and living room. She stood with her arms crossed over her low-collared tank top and short shorts with a button up slung over her arms.

  I slid my laptop off my lap and angled it so she couldn’t see the insanity I was considering. “Ah, what are you wearing? You’re not planning on going out in that, are you?”

  “Geesh, Mom.” Avery dropped her arms to her side and approached. “And you wonder why we need to move out. We’re college kids now. We don’t want our mommy telling us what to do anymore.”

  I chuckled. “You’re still not going out in that Princess Prostitute outfit.”

  “No, of course not.” She didn’t exactly sound sincere. She flopped onto the couch at my side, bouncing me on the cushion.

  “Hey, any word from Cathy?”

  Avery shook her head. “Nope. You?”

  “No, not even a voice mail telling me to leave her alone. I’ve decided I’m driving up there on Saturday afternoon when I close shop. Don’t expect me home until really late.”

  “I think you should. It’s time you two really straightened out the mess Mom left between you two. She never did like how close you were to Cathy. She’s the jealous type for sure.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, doesn’t want what she has, but doesn’t want anyone else to have it either.”

  Avery lunged across my lap and snagged my computer before I could stop her.

  I grabbed her shirt, but it made a ripping sound so I let go instantly.

 

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