Forever Friends Read online

  “What on earth is going on?” Annette rubbed Lincoln’s back, levelling a glare that could cut glass. “I could hear you two going at it from clear down in the kitchen.”

  Ethan turned two shades redder than he’d been just before and he hooked a hand around the back of his neck, clearly unsure who to console, who to appease.

  Sadie crossed her arms, resisting the urge to point at her husband and declare that he started it. “What’s unacceptable is your son thinking he can treat me like a doormat,” she declared, directing her words at Ethan. Anger was easier than dealing with his hurtful reaction.

  Annette cocked her head. “You’re a mother, so start acting like it. Do you think I ever shouted at Ethan’s dad that way? Of course not. I was grateful for how hard he worked to provide for our family.”

  Saint Richard Landry had passed away five years ago, meaning Sadie had never known the man who was by all accounts a legendary husband—maybe too legendary according to Ethan—but Sadie would never venture into “besmirching” Richard’s memory territory not even for the sake of a satisfying comeback.

  But she couldn’t stay in this bedroom, this house, a second longer. This space should be safe ground, a refuge, but right now it felt as treacherous as quicksand.

  “Excuse me, I have to leave.”

  She flew past her mother-in-law, husband, and son, practically falling down the steep staircase and into the foyer.

  “Hey! Where are you going?” Ethan called.

  “I need air.” She grabbed her keys and purse. She slid into the minivan and headed for town without any clear destination. She watched the cozy cottages pass by in a daze, their gardens backing up to the shores of the ocean. Did everyone assume the people who lived inside them had equally idyllic lives? Let her be the first to burst that bubble.

  Chapter Six

  Renee plopped the heavy bags of flour and sugar on the conveyor belt before searching through her crowded handbag for the brown leather wallet Tansy had given her last Christmas.

  “Looks like you’re baking for quite the crowd tonight.” Renee’s friend Myles Morrison grinned. Myles owned the downtown grocery store, Shopper’s Corner, and swore knowing people’s food purchases could provide the juiciest gossip of all. “Which makes me wonder—why wasn’t I invited?”

  “Oh, stop.” Renee waved a hand at him. “You know if I was having people over, you’d be right near the top of the list.”

  “Speaking of the top of your list. You know, Dr. Hanlon was just in here.”

  “Oh?” Renee’s heart fluttered. “That’s, um, nice.”

  “How is that gorgeous hunka hunka man single?” Myles sighed dramatically, placing Renee’s purchases inside the reusable tote that for once she’d actually remembered to bring along. “He comes in here every Saturday and buys the same things: lentils, salmon, apples, peanut butter, spinach, and a loaf of whole-grain bread.”

  “Yum.” Choices that obviously did a body good.

  “How old do you suppose he is? Late forties or early fifties?” Myles had stylishly rumpled sandy blond hair and deep smile lines etched around his bright brown eyes. He was a handsome, middle-aged man, yet still reminded Renee so much of the playful high school class clown she’d known so well. Ever since her divorce from Russell, Myles had been trying to set up Renee with various bachelors around town. “I’m already taken, of course, but you should go African savannah on that man, hunt him down like a gazelle at a watering hole.”

  “Uh-huh. I’m hardly a lioness. And stop it already, that’s my boss you’re talking about.”

  “You stop. Nathan and I have been bingeing old Grey’s Anatomy and I am feeling this. Tell you what, I’m going to start calling him Dr. McSteamy.”

  Renee wanted to crawl under a rock. “Do so at your own peril. Remember I broke your nose in third grade.”

  Myles rubbed the bump. “Trust me, I remember. And I learned my lesson, too. Beware of the quiet ones, and never insult Renee’s little sister.”

  Poor Bree had used a pair of scissors to cut her hair. And Myles had the nerve to make a joke about her crazy, choppy hairstyle, which meant Renee had no choice but to promptly bop him in the face.

  The front door chime rang violently as Sadie Landry barreled in, eyes bloodshot and nose pink.

  “Sadie?” Renee called, half relieved to get away from Myles and half concerned for Sadie’s distraught state. “How did the party go?”

  “Oh, Renee, hi.” Sadie’s voice came out an octave too high, as they both realized at the same instant that her jacket was on inside out. “Lincoln’s party was awesome. So awesome. And everyone raved about your pies. As they should.”

  Renee nodded carefully, wondering if she should probe. “And your mother-in-law made it into town okay?”

  “Yup. She’s…at the house now. You know, just visiting.” Sadie swallowed, before she let out a giant exhale. “I don’t even know why I’m here. God knows we have enough juice boxes and macaroni-and-cheese packets to survive a hurricane.”

  “Sometimes it’s just nice to get out.”

  “Yes. Yes, that’s it exactly. I had to get out. I just don’t know where to go.” Her voice threatened to crack.

  Renee glanced at her bags and considered the quiet evening she had planned. She was going to rewatch Crazy Rich Asians and try out a fig-raspberry-cardamom pie recipe she’d been inventing all day.

  But now, seeing Sadie so completely unraveled, a different idea took hold.

  “Wanna go with me to the pinot-and-paint fund-raiser? It’s going on over at Chickadee Studios and proceeds benefit the summer youth art program.”

  Renee smiled as she thought of how surprised Bree would be to see her actually take her up on her invite.

  “Weren’t you supposed to buy tickets ahead of time?” Sadie asked quietly. “I mean, I love the summer art program. I always went when I was little. But I don’t have a ticket.”

  Renee smiled. “Bree reserved two for me. I wasn’t in the mood, but you know what, I need to get out more. And you look like you could use some fun, no offense.”

  Sadie trailed her out of Shopper’s Corner and onto the sidewalk. Soon, all the window boxes that decorated Cranberry Cove’s various businesses would be blooming, their flowers and vines vibrant and lush. Chickadee Studios, the town’s popular gallery and gift shop, was just a few minutes’ stroll from the grocery. The two women walked in silence, Sadie occasionally sniffling as Renee watched her with wary sideways glances.

  She was dying to offer a hug or ask her some questions but just because they were neighbors didn’t mean she had to be privy to every detail of Sadie’s life.

  Jill Kelly, the owner of Chickadee Studios, and Bree’s best friend, greeted them.

  “Sadie? Renee? What a fab surprise! Come on in. I’ve set everything up in the back. Pinot noir or pinot grigio?” Jill’s hair always matched her glasses. It was her trademark. This evening her signature hue was violet. “I’ve also gathered a great cheese selection from Myles. There should be a few charcuterie boards floating around.”

  “Pinot grigio for me,” Renee replied, while Sadie requested a water.

  “La Croix or Spindrift? I’m becoming a sparkling water connoisseur.” Jill’s pale cheeks turned red. “I drink at least six different cans a day!”

  “That’s a lot of recycling!” Renee mock shuddered as Sadie laughed and said, “La Croix sounds great. Thank you.”

  Chickadee Studios had stark white walls and fairy lights hung across the ceiling, and Jill featured a different local artist’s work every month. This month’s choice was an artist who specialized in seashell murals. Distressed tables were covered with various pieces of jewelry, ceramics, and accessories.

  “My mother-in-law would love this,” Sadie mumbled to herself, examining a light blue merino scarf.

  “Don’t tell Bree. She’ll get a big head,” Renee fake-whispered. “But I’m so proud of her. Her stuff is incredible.”

  Renee and Bree’s
grandmother had taught both girls how to knit, but it was Bree who had honed it into a true talent. When Renee was pregnant was Tansy, Bree had knitted the baby three blankets, four caps, and two dresses. She worked at the Castaway Yarn Shop, which was just a few doors down from Chickadee. The customers adored her, particularly since she was always happy to help repair a botched project, knitting and purling the way back to correctness.

  Sadie bought the scarf while muttering something about a peace offering and slid the bag and receipt into her tote.

  “I have you ladies set up here.” Jill gestured toward two empty easels that were close to Dot, Essie, and Bree. The women were already a few glasses of wine deep and laughing hysterically.

  “What’s so funny?” Renee slipped an apron over her head. She squinted at the sample painting, which was of a lilac bush.

  “Renee Rhodes? Is that you? In the flesh?” Bree joked, reaching over to squeeze her sister’s hand. “My sister is out of the house! Is hell freezing over?”

  “You ladies remember Sadie, right?” Renee set a protective hand on Sadie’s shoulder, choosing to ignore Bree’s teasing. She knew it came from a place of love, that and the fact that she often chose home over socializing, even after the excuse of being with Tansy was off the table. Sadie blushed and said a polite hello to the three women and Renee felt a rush of warmth at bringing people she enjoyed together.

  “We were just dying over Dot’s recent boyfriend,” Bree volunteered, not even looking at Jill’s lilac bush portrait as she splashed a generous daub of green across her canvas. “She invited him along on one of her power walks, and he couldn’t keep up.”

  “So she kicked him to the curb three miles out of town.” Essie gave an evil giggle. “He was panting and begging for Band-Aids, but Dot wouldn’t slow down.”

  Dot Turner made a shooing gesture. “You all know how important fitness is to me! And of course, I wasn’t about to blow my pace for some old duffer. Not when I’ve got the Appalachian Trail to bag!”

  “Tell us what’s new in your world, Sadie.” Essie used the end of her paintbrush to push a strand of her jet-black hair behind her ear, showing off a giant diamond stud. “What are all the cool twenty-somethings doing these days?”

  “Oh, yeah right. I’m living large. The craziest part of my week was pulling off a teddy bear picnic birthday party this afternoon,” Sadie confessed, making the women cackle once more. “After I burned my original dessert last night, Renee came to the rescue and baked up four of her blueberry pies and as many muffins as all the two-year-olds could eat. Everything was a total hit.” Renee pretended to be transfixed by her canvas as she felt Bree studying her thoughtfully.

  “Renee’s desserts are the best ever.” Essie feigned orgasmic drooling. “A bite of her cherry pie is better than you-know-what.”

  The table dissolved into coy giggles.

  “Her rhubarb is my favorite.” Dot let out a wistful sigh. “Or maybe her chocolate salted caramel–pecan pie. An impossible choice.”

  “Jeez, thanks, guys. My ego has grown to the size of the North Atlantic. But there’s no way that my pies are the best ever.” Renee nodded toward Sadie. “That distinction goes to Sadie’s grandma Hester. Gosh, remember her whoopie pies back when we were kids?”

  “I heard she burnt the recipes on her deathbed,” Essie hypothesized. “Lord knows that’s what I’m doing with my diary before I croak.”

  “She always was the secretive type.” Renee studied the sample portrait as if she were a student of Monet’s. “She was quick to share a dessert but never a recipe. And lord knows I asked more than once.”

  “So true. Not that I can bake to save my life but I remember even I begged her once or twice for her vanilla-peach pie secrets,” Dot admitted.

  “I remember how she always arrived at the annual Fourth of July celebration with countless whoopie pies as well as seven different pies,” Sadie said.

  “Why was it always seven?” Renee asked.

  “Her lucky number, I guess?” ventured Sadie. “My favorite was the cranberry-caramel. Yum!”

  “Yes to that and all the other six, please!” Bree declared, making everyone laugh.

  “What I remember most was the way she smelled.” Sadie sighed. “Sugar and vanilla, all the time. I could use a little of that magic right now.”

  The women all grew quiet, not quite sure what to say.

  Of course Essie broke the silence. “And how are your parents doing? Every time a new listing comes on the market, I send them a quick email. I always thought they’d be back in Cranberry Cove by now. I mean, D.C. is exciting and fast-paced if that’s your scene, but few places are as special as the Cove.”

  “I thought so too,” admitted Sadie, her voice small. “But my dad has his dream job, and now they have their dream house. No, I don’t suspect they’ll be back anytime soon. Maybe never. But, um, they visit, of course.”

  “Of course,” Renee replied.

  Sadie’s parents had been high school sweethearts and homecoming king and queen. They had married right after college, settling in their hometown. Christopher had been a financial adviser with kind eyes and a broad smile, both of which Sadie had inherited. Melissa had worked in his office, always sporting the impossibly neat good looks of a Stepford wife.

  Her parents had led a polished, practical life and they’d expected nothing less from Sadie. They’d kept an immaculate home and yard. They’d made an appearance at every important fund-raiser, always donating the perfect amount of money—not so little as to look stingy, but not so much as to look ostentatious. And the family had never missed a Sunday service at the local Episcopal church, wearing freshly ironed clothes, of course.

  To Renee’s knowledge, they now visited Cranberry Cove once each year—usually in the summertime—while the Landrys made the trip down to D.C. when they could.

  It wasn’t enough time, not in Renee’s opinion.

  When Tansy was two, Renee called her mother approximately twelve times a day. Plus, her mom lived just down the road and would stop by at least a few times each week, always with a casserole, fresh flowers, or an interesting article she’d cut out of a magazine. And she’d also had Bree and a husband who didn’t spend half the week in Boston.

  Renee studied her young neighbor, noticing how shy, almost crestfallen, she now seemed.

  What a legacy to carry on between her legendary grandma and perfectly poised and astonishingly capable mother. It must be overwhelming being back here at times.

  “Can I give you a lift home?” Renee asked Sadie when the fund-raiser started winding down.

  “Oh, I drove. I’ll be fine getting back. Thank you, though. Do you need a lift?” she lowered her voice. “Because I’m officially on designated-driver duty for the next nine months.”

  “I’ll head home a little later, but let me at least walk you out,” Renee insisted.

  Sadie gave hugs all around before she and Renee walked out into the brisk night. “Thanks again for including me tonight,” she said. “It’s always fun getting to hear stories about my grandma.”

  “She was a special person, just like you.”

  As Sadie nodded, Renee noted the circles under her sad eyes.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “No,” Sadie admitted. “But I will be.”

  Renee squeezed Sadie’s hand, hoping to offer her some small comfort. “Call me if you need anything. Okay?”

  She regretted it as soon as it came out of her mouth—surely, her neighbor would find her suffocating, just as Tansy likely did off in California—but instead, Sadie hugged her tighter, whispering, “Promise.”

  Renee walked back into Chickadee Studios and returned to her seat.

  “Hey lady.” Essie raised her perfectly arched eyebrows in Renee’s direction. “I have a proposition to make.”

  Renee arched a brow in return, as this was classic Essie Park. She was always coming up with big ideas, like the time she ran for class president and promised
the school soda pop from the drinking fountains and dance parties every Friday afternoon. “And what’s that?”

  “I don’t want to give too much away now, but how about you meet me at my office tomorrow morning for coffee?”

  Chapter Seven

  Sadie slumped in the front seat of the minivan, hands still gripping the steering wheel at ten and two, and studied her cottage—her grandma’s home, the place where she was building her own family. Hearing the stories about Grandma Hester had opened up a vein of bittersweet nostalgia.

  She thought of the way her mom used to drop her off, and as soon as her feet hit the pavement, Grandma would be pushing open that front door and ambling down the path to meet her.

  “Ready to bake?” she’d always call out.

  Her grandma’s ramshackle style was a welcome haven from her more orderly, quiet home. She missed her so much even though she’d died right after Sadie had started high school. It made her happy to think that so many other people had joyful memories of her grandma and her cooking too.

  Sighing, she surveyed the yard. Ethan had surprised her with two big hydrangea bushes for her last birthday, but they looked dejected and twiggy now. They wouldn’t bloom until midsummer.

  Taking a deep breath, Sadie dropped her keys into her purse, exited the car, and approached the alcove doorway like it was a medieval gallows. Ethan’s car was still parked in the other spot, despite the fact that he’d been determined to floor it to Boston only a few hours ago. Was she relieved? Anxious? Disappointed?

  The furtive texting had been strange earlier, but she didn’t really think he was having an affair; he couldn’t even cheat in cards without confessing his guilt. But something wasn’t right, and hadn’t been right for a while.

  Sadie gently pushed the front door open, trying to be quiet. Lincoln went to bed at eight, and the last thing she wanted was to cause a scene by waking him. And yet, she pursed her lips, she’d had no trouble leaving him with his dad and grandma earlier.