Stillwater Rising Page 7

  Even a casual stranger who came for a day visit would see this was a town in mourning. She knew Jenn was right—there was no time limit on the process of mourning—but it was Charlotte’s job as mayor to look beyond the emotional aspect, wasn’t it? Her biggest fear was the town would get lost in their grief, but how do you ensure that doesn’t happen without negating what the families of Stillwater were going through?

  She didn’t have the answers, but she knew, as she walked down Main Street and noticed the lack of activity in many of the stores, that she needed to find them. Summer was on their doorstep. It was a weekend, but it could have been a Monday morning for all she could tell. There was very little traffic on the street and hardly anyone on the sidewalks.

  This town needed the summer tourists and revenue to help them stay afloat during the winter months. She knew many businesses would close and families would go bankrupt if it weren’t for the money they made during the warmer months. Without the summer industry, would they survive? Charlotte hoped so, but the innate belief she held close to her heart, that they could face anything as long as they did it together as a community, was disappearing.

  With her gaze downward, she almost didn’t notice Camille Bloomin squatting down in front of a pail full of floral arrangements.

  “Those are beautiful.” Charlotte stopped and admired the bouquets of gerbera daisies.

  “They just came in.” Camille stood up and wiped her hands on her pink apron that matched the bright awning above her store. “My favorites are the pink and orange so far. They scream summer and happiness.”

  “They do. Can you make an arrangement for the office? I’ll pick it up when I get back.” Charlotte liked to have a fresh bouquet from Camille greet anyone who came to town hall. She put the flowers in a vase made from lightning glass, crafted by Blake Casser, a local artist. He now had a workshop up by the lighthouse.

  “Already made. I noticed last week’s arrangement didn’t fare as well, so I added extra to make up for it.” She scrunched up her nose. “Sorry about that.”

  Charlotte shook her head. She thought last week’s arrangement had been quite nice and hadn’t noticed how they held up, but leave it to Camille to see it.

  “How are things?”

  Camille rearranged signage she’d placed out front and flashed Charlotte a smile. “Not too bad. A few families have already arrived and placed their weekly orders for flowers, so things are looking up.”

  “And the clubhouse?” There had been talk from the local golf club of hiring a full-time florist this year, and Charlotte had made it her mission to ensure they didn’t.

  “They agreed to keep Paige on part-time, so we’ll work her schedule here at the store to accommodate that, which is a relief.”

  Paige was Camille’s younger sister, in her midtwenties. Together, the sisters ran Still Blooming.

  “Did someone call my name?” Paige stood in the doorway with a pail of flowers by her feet. She nudged it forward for Camille. “Here you go.”

  Charlotte watched as a frown graced Camille’s face for a brief second before it disappeared. She reached for the pail and set it beside the one holding the daisies. “I told you I would get it,” she muttered.

  Paige shrugged her shoulder. “Hi, Mayor,” she said before she used her cane to head back into the store.

  “Everything okay?” Charlotte caught the tension between the sisters.

  Camille sighed as she watched her sister maneuver between the tables before she sat down on a stool behind the front counter. “She was here when the truck pulled in this morning and helped unload it. She twisted her knee and refuses to go to the clinic.”

  “Are you sure this isn’t a case of big sister worry?” Since their parents’ death just before she turned twenty, Camille had taken care of her younger sister. Four years ago, Paige had shattered her kneecap while training for the Olympic US Volleyball team, and the close relationship between the sisters had been altered. The money they’d received from their parents’ estate had gone to the countless surgeries Paige had needed and into the floral shop to keep it afloat. Charlotte tried to help in any way she could, and ordering weekly floral arrangements was part of her support.

  “I have no idea.” Camille threw her hands up in the air.

  Charlotte laid her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “She knows her body and what she can handle. Trust her.”

  “How can I trust her when she skipped her last doctor’s appointment? When I catch her taking her meds more than she should?” Camille’s lips thinned as worry clouded her gaze. “She has another surgery scheduled in six months but . . .” Her voice trailed off as she turned her attention away from her store and up toward North Beach.

  Charlotte’s heart sank at the news. She had no idea Paige needed yet another surgery.

  “Where are you headed today?” Camille asked, trying to cover her anxiety with a lighter tone in her voice.

  “First, I have to go fetch a little girl and buy some teddy bears, but then I thought I’d head toward Julia Berry’s home and see how she is.”

  Camille turned to look down toward South Beach, where Julia lived in the cottages by the shore. “I read that article in the paper Friday. I hope she’s okay.”

  Charlotte sighed. Something she’d been doing a lot today. “I hope so too, but something tells me she’s not.”

  “Wait here.” Camille briefly touched Charlotte’s arm before she headed into the store. Charlotte watched her stop in front of her sister and talk with her before she reached into the small freezer and pulled out a basket of cut flowers.

  Charlotte wondered if that were one of the many arrangements Julia had refused to accept from kindhearted strangers throughout the country. Camille had told her that for weeks after Julia’s son had shot himself, orders had poured into the floral shop for the mother, some nice and some . . . not so nice. But no matter what, Julia would refuse to take the flowers, forcing Camille to leave them on her doorstep and eventually take them back to the shop. Julia now requested that the money people would have spent on the arrangements be donated to the many charities or funds set up for the families after the shooting.

  “Can you give this to her?” Camille carried the basket out and placed it in Charlotte’s hands.

  “Is this another order?” she asked.

  Camille shook her head. “No, tell her it’s from us. Today is her birthday.”

  A lump formed in Charlotte’s throat as she could only nod before she walked away. Her birthday? Had Lacie known? She’d called her friend this morning to come with her today, but Lacie said she didn’t think it would be a good idea. She had stopped by Julia’s house earlier but had left when it had become obvious Julia didn’t want any company.

  Julia was alone now. How would she spend her birthday? Would she be curled up in bed or on the couch watching sad movies? Would she pretend today was just another day?

  Charlotte paused in front of the gift shop located next door to the flower shop. The door was locked with brown wrapping paper covering the windows. She wondered if it would ever open again. This was Julia’s store. A small gift shop with handmade items from local artists around the county. It was a local favorite, and in previous summers, Julia usually ran out of items to sell thanks to their summer families. What would happen this year? She knew this was a staple of the town. Somehow she needed to convince Julia to open it up again.

  Charlotte pulled up in front of Lauren Thomlin’s home, and the first thing she saw was the overgrown yard and weedy garden. Jordan had asked her before she left to let him know if any yard work needed to be done, so she quickly sent him a text and a picture of what she saw. When Lauren’s husband died while serving in Iraq, the community had stepped up and tried to help out as much as they could. Jordan was responsible for the yard work and had set up a schedule for others to cut the grass, weed the flower beds, fix and repaint t
he front porch, and handle other general maintenance, but it didn’t look as if it had been done for a while.

  As she walked up the front walkway the door flew open and out ran Ellie, straight into her arms.

  “Hi to you too.” Charlotte gave Ellie a long hug.

  “Are we going to buy lots and lots of teddy bears today?” Ellie’s eyes were bright, but she caught sight of a tiny sheen in them.

  “Lots and lots.” Ellie’s hand nestled in hers as they made their way to the front door where Lauren stood.

  She looked horrible. Her hair was stringy, dark bags hung beneath her eyes, and her face was pale. She’d wrapped a cardigan around her thin frame, and her knuckles were white from clutching the edges together.

  “I was thinking, maybe I could keep Ellie for the day? I believe there’s a tea party happening at the bed-and-breakfast today.” One phone call to Shelley Peterson, owner of Seaglass B&B, and there would be a tea party if there wasn’t one already. Maybe she could even see about setting up a pajama party at Shelley’s to give Lauren the night off too.

  The weariness in Lauren’s gaze abated for a brief moment. But then she straightened from her position of leaning against the entryway and shook her head.

  “You don’t need to do that. I’m okay.”

  Charlotte hoped Lauren could read the message in her eyes. Liar.

  “You’re not okay. Maybe you should go in to see the doctor?”

  “I’m just tired.” Lauren hugged herself tighter.

  “Jordan will be by in a bit to clean up your yard, and Gina has some homemade chicken soup on the burner. I’ll get her to bring it by later as well.”

  And if she didn’t, Charlotte would beg her to make some. Lauren really didn’t look well.

  “Charlotte . . .” Lauren’s voice wavered as she blinked away the tears that pooled.

  Charlotte’s heart broke to see this woman, this stubborn, opinionated, and obviously sick woman, struggle to accept the help she needed. But she wasn’t going to give her an option.

  “I’m not taking no for an answer, Lauren.”

  “Please, please, please?” Ellie stood there, her voice quiet as she gripped Charlotte’s hand.

  Lauren looked at her daughter and attempted to smile. “Sounds like it could be a fun day.”

  Ellie beamed a huge smile up at Charlotte then wrapped her arms around her mom.

  Thank you, Lauren mouthed.

  Charlotte smiled.

  “Why don’t you go and get yourself buckled in while I talk to your mom for a minute, okay?”

  They both watched as Ellie skipped her way to the car and climbed in.

  “Go see the doctor.” She left little room in her voice for disagreement.

  Lauren shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Jordan will take you. Don’t argue.”

  Lauren’s body sagged, as if the weight of having to take care of herself was lifted.

  “Thank you.”

  “How about I keep her for the night and bring her home tomorrow?” She caught the brief flicker of hope in Lauren’s eyes before she was about to say no. Charlotte didn’t give her the chance, though.

  “Don’t worry about her pajamas or anything. I’ll get her to pick out a pair today while we’re shopping. She’ll have a blast, and it will give you time to rest.” Charlotte leaned forward and gave Lauren a soft hug.

  “She would love that,” Lauren murmured.

  “I know. It’ll be a treat for her. And for you I’m thinking.”

  “I could use the sleep.”

  Charlotte was relieved that Lauren gave in. “Yes, yes, you do. I’ll send you a text to let you know what is going on and where she is, okay? I might convince Shelley to have a slumber party with her grandkids. They’re in Ellie’s class, right?”

  As Charlotte made her way to the car and to the little girl who was literally vibrating in her seat from excitement, she glanced back toward the house. Lauren sacrificed so much for her daughter, but she wondered if it was too much, for both of them. She needed to see about getting Ellie in some programs this summer.

  “All right, you, where to first? I was thinking maybe a trip to Gina’s for some waffles?”

  “With strawberries and whipped cream?” Ellie’s eyes lit up.

  “With extra whipped cream and maybe even some chocolate sprinkles.”

  “It’s a deal!”

  As she drove away from Ellie’s home, she realized she needed to make some adjustments to today’s plans.

  She still wanted to check in on Julia, but right now, this little girl needed to have a day of happiness.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  JENNIFER

  Weekends were usually packed with activities in the Crowne household. Robert had his weekly breakfast meetings with other local business owners and then went to the clubhouse and played a round of golf or worked out in the gym there. Jenn used to get up and make a large breakfast for her and the kids, but in the past month, her morning ritual consisted of sleeping in, making a pot of coffee to help with the massive headache she’d wake up with, and then sit out on her back deck staring out into the bay while Charity was either up in her room or at a friend’s house.

  This morning, when she woke up, it was to the smell of coffee and bacon wafting through her opened bedroom door. There was a dull throb behind her eyes, and the last thing she wanted to do was get out of bed, but the aroma of bitter coffee pulled at her too strongly. Half in a daze, she wrapped her housecoat around her and shuffled down the hallway to the stairs.

  She wasn’t quite prepared for the sight in front of her when she stepped into her kitchen.

  “What are you doing?” She should have known, expected, that Charity would be home, but seeing her there surprised her.

  Charity glanced up from where she was. A large smile filled her face as she motioned to the catastrophe of what was once Jenn’s neat and organized kitchen.

  “I’m helping to get the baskets ready.” Charity had a piece of tissue paper in her hand and was attempting to arrange it in the bottom of a basket.

  “I see that,” Jenn said, puzzled. “Why?”

  Charity shrugged. “Anne Marie called and said she would be here shortly to put together some baskets. I thought I’d get a head start and get everything out,” Charity said. “She also asked if I could help this year, and I said yes.” She reached for another piece of tissue paper and paused. “That’s okay, right? That I’m helping? Cause I want to.”

  Jenn sighed, “Of course it’s all right. I really appreciate your aunt for offering to do this and the fact that you want to help.”

  She glanced around at the mess. She thought Anne Marie was only going to pick up the supplies, not actually create the baskets here.

  “Which basket are you working on right now?”

  Charity reached across the counter and grabbed a sheet of paper.

  “I made a list of all the families who were returning. I wasn’t sure when they would all be here, so I figured I’d start with the Andersons since I know they’re here already and just down the street.”

  Jenn nodded while she glanced at the list her daughter had attempted to make.

  “If you grab the pink book off my desk, there’s a list of dates and other notes I keep. We can work off that, if you’d like,” Jenn suggested. “That way we won’t get anything mixed up. For instance”—she reached for a bottle of honey that sat beside the basket—“Sam, the youngest boy, is allergic to honey, so we’ll give them some blackberry jam, which also happens to be his favorite.”

  Charity’s smile faltered a bit before she ducked her head and left the kitchen.

  She perused the items her daughter had collected and nodded. Charity had managed to retrieve most of the items she’d stored away; she was impressed. She set the list down and poured herself a cup
of coffee, making sure to leave enough room to add double the Baileys. She needed it.

  “Are you kidding me?” Charity dropped the book on the counter and walked away.

  “Hey, where are you going?”

  Charity stopped but didn’t turn. “To my room to listen to music,” she said.

  “But . . .” Jenn held up a jar of jam. “I thought you were going to help with the baskets?”

  “You’ve got it all under control. You don’t need me. But you might want to hide the recycling with all your liquor bottles before Anne Marie comes.”

  Jenn slowly set the jar down on the counter while her daughter walked up the stairs.

  She glanced down at the recycling box filled with bottles beneath the counter. Wine and Baileys. More than she thought there would be.

  A good mom would have gone over to her daughter and hugged her, reaffirming that she was always needed. A great mom would have watched her words before she even said them. But Jenn was neither a great nor a good mom. Lately her daughter would probably say she was the worst mother around.

  Sadly, Jenn wouldn’t have argued with that statement.

  Raising a teenager was more than she thought she could handle sometimes. How much was hormonal adjustments, and how much was real offense? It didn’t matter either way; her feelings were valid regardless. Isn’t that basically what she had been trying to get Charlotte to understand as well?

  She stepped over to the stairs and glanced up, managing to hide her surprise, she hoped, when she realized Charity sat halfway up with her head in her hands.

  “Charity, honey?” She climbed up and sat a few steps down but rested her hand on her daughter’s knee. “I’m sorry.”

  Charity peeked through her fingers. It hurt Jenn’s heart to see the blank look on her daughter’s face.

  “Honey, I do need you.” She let out a long breath. “I think I need you more now than ever before.”

  “I just wanted to help,” she said.

  Jenn nodded. “I know, and I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”