“Aunt Sugar! Where are you this morning? Is Uncle Jasper feeling better? I’ve been worried about him.”

“He’s accepting it but not liking it, though we didn’t put any conditions on what we gave y’all. The place was Reuben’s to do with what he wanted. We’re just glad you didn’t sell out, too. And we’re still in Georgia, only now we’re on the east side of the state. We found this little resort that we really like,” she said.

“Speaking of selling, why didn’t y’all sell this place? It would have sure helped increase your nest egg, and you had to at least wonder what would happen with Reuben,” Jolene asked.

“Because,” Sugar answered, “we didn’t need more money, and Jasper was set on giving Reuben half the place. We had lots of late-night talks about it, but as you already know, I didn’t win. Jasper hoped it would help straighten Reuben out. He thought your influence would be good. Reuben is on his third professor job. He had a wonderful position at Baylor and didn’t make tenure. Then he got hired at a junior college in Oklahoma and didn’t make tenure. Now he’s at another junior college and it’s not looking good there, either.”

“Me help him?” Jolene gasped. “I’m just a bartender. He’s a professor. How was I going to help him?”

“Common sense and life lessons go a lot farther than book learnin’,” Sugar said.

“Thank you for that much trust.” A wave of guilt washed over Jolene for ever even having second thoughts about selling her half to Tucker. She wiped away a tear making its way down her cheek and changed the subject. “So tell me how you’re managing cooking in that small space when you’re used to this huge kitchen. And when did y’all start going to different places every week?”

“It’s been an adjustment learnin’ to cope with such a small space,” Sugar said. “And we’ve been takin’ turns with dinner for several years. Hey, speakin’ of dinner, Dotty says that Tucker is a great guy. Tell me what you think.”

Jolene giggled. “I’m pretty sure they’re playing matchmaker, but”—she lowered her voice—“he’s still not over Melanie.”

“Some things take a little more time to get over than others,” Sugar said. “Don’t shut a door until you’re absolutely sure about it. At least you’re friends. It would be hard to work together if you didn’t at least like one another.”

Jolene could hear Tucker working, but she took the phone outside. Wrapping a quilt she’d taken from the sofa on the way out around her, she settled down on the swing. She had questions for Sugar that she didn’t want Tucker to hear.

“We work together really well, but I can’t go through what I did with Mama and with my last boyfriend, so I’m not going to start something that has no finish line,” Jolene answered.

“Smart thinkin’,” Sugar said.

She wasn’t even sure how to begin her next thought.

“You still there?” Sugar asked after several long seconds.

“Yes, I’m here. I was trying to think about how to ask about Melanie. Maybe if I knew more about her, then I could understand Tucker better,” Jolene said.

“You could be right,” Sugar said. “She was a tall brunette, rather slim built, and when she and Tucker were home and came to church with her parents, they seemed like the perfect little couple. Her mother wanted grandkids, but she and Tucker didn’t seem to be in a big hurry for them. She’d taught the little kids’ Sunday school class, so it wasn’t any surprise to us when she became a schoolteacher and got a job in Dallas. I’d worried about a small-town girl going to the big city, but Melanie did fine. Met Tucker and got married. Then she was killed in an auto accident, and you know the rest.”

“Thank you,” Jolene said.

“And now moving on,” Sugar said. “Dotty raves about you working at the Gator. I wasn’t real happy about that, but it’s what you know, and I reckon you can take care of yourself.”

“Had to have something to pay the bills and buy food after Reuben did what he did,” Jolene said. “So you’re having a good time?”

“Oh, sweetie, we’ve been having the best time. We spent a couple of days on that beach where we scattered your folks’ ashes. We stood there in the edge of the water and remembered the day we scattered their ashes. It’s such a peaceful place. I’m glad that you wanted to put them where they’d honeymooned. Then we fished and picnicked. I love this journey,” Sugar gushed, “but I miss home. It’s takin’ a lot of adjusting, goin’ from the Magnolia to an RV. Don’t tell the girls I’m homesick—” Sugar’s voice cracked. “If they knew, they’d beg me to come back, and I couldn’t do that to Jasper. He’s barely over the way Reuben . . . no need in talking about that anymore. It’s crazy how a person can love a new life and miss the old one at the same time.”

“I miss you, too, Aunt Sugar. Why don’t y’all swing back through here as you zigzag across the states?” Jolene got up and went back inside. “It’s our secret, but if you change your mind, you can come back to Jefferson and live right here in the inn with us.”

“Thank you. It’s starting to snow.” Sugar’s voice wasn’t still up to normal. “We’re near Savannah, Georgia. Love you. Bye now.”

“Love you right back. Bye.” Jolene hit the “End” button and picked up the broom to carry it upstairs.

Tucker was applying the final sanding to the areas in the bathroom that he’d already gone over with the electric sander. The process now was to hit it with fine-grit paper wrapped around a block of wood before he textured the walls. After that it would be ready to tape off and paint. He was listening to his favorite country music playlist through the earbuds of his MP3 player and wouldn’t have even heard the phone if it hadn’t been in his hip pocket. He jerked both wires from his ears and answered without even looking to see who was calling.

“Hello, Tucker, how are you this morning?”

“I’m fine, Carla.” Of all the people in the world, his mother-in-law was the last person he wanted to talk to that morning. He didn’t need the yearly reminder that it was close to Melanie’s birthday.

“I hear that you bought interest in the Magnolia Inn and that you’re remodeling it,” she said.

“That’s right,” he said.

“I’m glad you’re nearby. We’re getting together again this year to celebrate Melanie’s memory on her birthday. Just burgers cooked on the grill and homemade ice cream. We’ll eat around seven, but come early if you can. You were a big part of her life, Tucker. We’d love to have you join us,” Carla said.

“Thanks for the invitation. I’ll see what I can do,” he said. “Right now, I’d better get back to work. Thanks for calling.”

He hit the “End” button before she could say anything else and then sat down on the floor beside the vanity. He didn’t need to spend time with Melanie’s family once a year to keep her memories alive. A lump the size of a basketball settled in his chest, making it hard to breathe. This would be Melanie’s third birthday since she’d died. Her mother had called the past two years to invite him to join them in remembering her, but he’d never gone to one of their celebrations.

He laid his phone on the vanity and stared at the place where a mirror would hang later. The blank wall became a screen for memories. He could see his grandfather’s face, standing proudly beside him as his best man at the wedding. His grandmother sat on the front row of the church, beaming and wiping tears at the same time. Cancer got his grandpa the next year, and six months later his grandmother simply didn’t wake up. Tucker had always figured she died of a broken heart.

That was his entire family, gone in less than a year. His father had come over the border to work for his grandfather one summer. His mother, Debra, had gotten pregnant during that time, and his father had been deported. When Tucker was six weeks old, she’d disappeared in the night, leaving a note behind that she’d gone to be with Joseph, Tucker’s father. She’d written several times, but before he was a year old, his grandparents got word that his mother and his father had both died in an accident when the bus they were riding collided with a semitruck.

If a person could really die of a broken heart, though, why was he still living? His chest tightened; his breath came in short gasps. He had to get away, even if it was just for a while. He passed Jolene on her way up and managed to get a few words out, saying that he needed something from the trailer.

A blast of cold air rushed out to greet him when he opened the door. Bright sunshine offered a little warmth outside the trailer, but the sunrays couldn’t penetrate the metal shell to heat up the inside. One bottle of whiskey was left in the cabinet, so he poured a shot and carried it to the bed. He sat down on the edge and groaned.

“I don’t drink on the job.” He stood up, emptied the glass into the sink, and squared his shoulders.

Instead of going back to the house, he wandered down to the Big Cypress Bayou. The cold, dead grass crunched under him when he sat down and braced his back against a willow tree. Before long spring would push winter away and things would turn green again. But Tucker’s heart was a different matter—he felt as if it had suffered a bitter, cold winter for almost three years now, and spring would never arrive again.

Charleston, South Carolina

Jasper had walked up to the little store at the RV park that afternoon to get a loaf of bread and half gallon of milk, so Sugar used the time to call Dotty. The bar would open in half an hour and things would get hectic, but she and her friend could cover a lot of ground in that time.

“Hello, guess what. The kids came to Sunday dinner yesterday. Tell me that Jasper is better. We’re still worried about him.” Dotty sounded like she was out of breath.