Читать книгу: «A Slice Of Heaven»

SHERRYL WOODS
A Slice of Heaven

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Epilogue

1

The smell of burning toast caught Dana Sue’s attention just before the smoke detector went off. Snatching the charred bread from the toaster, she tossed it into the sink, then grabbed a towel and waved it at the shrieking alarm to disperse the smoke. At last the overly sensitive thing fell silent.

“Mom, what on earth is going on in here?” Annie demanded, standing in the kitchen doorway, her nose wrinkling at the aroma of burnt toast. She was dressed for school in jeans that hung on her too-thin frame and a scoop-neck T-shirt that revealed pale skin stretched taut over protruding collarbones.

Restraining the desire to comment on the evidence that Annie had lost more weight, Dana Sue regarded her teenager with a chagrined expression. “Take a guess.”

“You burned the toast again,” Annie said, a grin spreading across her face, relieving the gauntness ever so slightly. “Some chef you are. If I ratted you out about this, no one would ever come to Sullivan’s to eat again.”

“Which is why we don’t serve breakfast and why you’re sworn to secrecy, unless you expect to be grounded, phone-less and disconnected from your e-mail till you hit thirty,” Dana Sue told her, not entirely in jest. Sullivan’s had been a huge success from the moment she’d opened the restaurant’s doors. Word-of-mouth raves had spread through the entire region. Even Charleston’s top restaurant-and-food critic had hailed it for its innovative Southern dishes. Dana Sue didn’t need her sassy kid ruining that with word of her culinary disasters at home.

“Why were you making toast, anyway? You don’t eat it,” Annie said, filling a glass with water and taking a tiny sip before dumping the rest down the drain.

“I was fixing you breakfast,” Dana Sue said, pulling a plate with a fluffy omelet from the oven, where she’d kept it warm. She’d added low-fat cheese and finely shredded red and green sweet peppers, just the way Annie had always liked it. The omelet was perfect, a vision suitable for the cover of any gourmet magazine.

Annie looked at the food with a repugnant expression most people reserved for roadkill. “I don’t think so.”

“Sit,” Dana Sue ordered, losing patience with the too-familiar reaction. “You have to eat. Breakfast is the most important meal, especially on a school day. Think of the protein as brain power. Besides, I dragged myself out of bed to fix it for you, so you’re going to eat it.”

Annie, her beautiful sixteen-year-old, regarded her with one of those “Mother! Not again” looks, but at least she sat down at the table. Dana Sue sat across from her, holding her mug of black coffee as if it were liquid gold. After a late night at the restaurant, she needed all the caffeine she could get first thing in the morning to be alert enough to deal with Annie’s quick-thinking evasiveness.

“How was your first day back at school?” Dana Sue asked.

Annie shrugged.

“Do you have any classes with Ty this year?” For as long as Dana Sue could remember, Annie had harbored a crush on Tyler Townsend, whose mom was one of Dana Sue’s best friends and most recently a business partner at The Corner Spa, Serenity’s new fitness club for women.

“Mom, he’s a senior. I’m a junior,” Annie explained with exaggerated patience. “We don’t have any of the same classes.”

“Too bad,” Dana Sue said, meaning it. Ty had gone through some issues of his own since his dad had walked out on Maddie, but he’d always been a good sounding board for Annie, the way a big brother or best friend would be. Not that Annie appreciated the value of that. She wanted Ty to notice her as a girl, as someone he’d be interested in dating. So far, though, Ty was oblivious.

Dana Sue studied Annie’s sullen expression and tried again, determined to find some way to connect with the child who was slipping away too fast. “Do you like your teachers?”

“They talk. I listen. What’s to like?”

Dana Sue bit back a sigh. A few short years ago, Annie had been a little chatterbox. There hadn’t been a detail of her day she hadn’t wanted to share with her mom and dad. Of course, ever since Ronnie had cheated on Dana Sue and she’d thrown him out two years ago, everything had changed. Annie’s adoration for her father had been destroyed, just as Dana Sue’s heart had been broken. For a long time after the divorce, silence had fallen in the Sullivan household, with neither of them wanting to talk about the one thing that really mattered.

“Mom, I have to go or I’ll be late.” A glance at the clock had Annie bouncing up eagerly.

Dana Sue looked at the untouched plate of food. “You haven’t eaten a bite of that.”

“Sorry. It looks fantastic, but I’m not hungry. See you tonight.” She brushed a kiss across Dana Sue’s cheek and took off, leaving behind the no longer perfect omelet and a whiff of perfume that Dana Sue recognized as the expensive scent she’d bought for herself last Christmas and wore only on very special occasions. Since such occasions had been few and far between since the divorce, it probably didn’t matter that her daughter was wasting it on high school boys.

Only after she was alone again and her coffee had turned cold did Dana Sue notice the brown sack with Annie’s lunch still sitting on the counter. It could have been an oversight, but she knew better. Annie had deliberately left it behind, just as she’d ignored the breakfast her mother had fixed.

The memory of Annie’s collapse during Maddie’s wedding reception last year at Thanksgiving came flooding back, and with it a tide of fresh panic.

“Oh, sweetie,” Dana Sue murmured. “Not again.”

“I’m thinking for tonight’s dessert I’ll make an old-fashioned bread pudding with maybe some Granny Smith apples to add a little tartness and texture,” Erik Whitney said before Dana Sue had a chance to tie on her apron. “What do you think?”

Even as her mouth watered, her brain was calculating the carbohydrates. Off the chart, she concluded, and sighed. Her customers could indulge, but she’d have to avoid the dessert like the plague.

Erik regarded her worriedly. “Too much sugar?”

“For me, yes. For the rest of the universe, it sounds perfect.”

“I could do a fresh fruit cobbler instead, maybe use a sugar substitute,” he suggested.

Dana Sue shook her head. She’d built Sullivan’s reputation by putting a new spin on old Southern favorites. Most of the time, her selections were healthier than some of the traditional butter-soaked dishes, but when it came to desserts, she knew her clientele preferred decadent. She’d hired Erik straight out of the Atlanta Culinary Institute because the school’s placement officer had ranked him the best pastry chef candidate they’d seen in years.

Older than most graduates, Erik was already in his thirties. Eager to experiment and show what he could do, Erik hadn’t disappointed her or her customers. He was such a huge improvement over her last sous-chef, a temperamental man who was difficult to work with, that Dana Sue counted her blessings every single day that Erik could double as a sous-chef and pastry chef. He’d quickly become more than an employee. He’d become a friend.

Moreover, there was already a high demand in South Carolina for Erik’s wedding cakes. He’d raised the traditional cake to an art form that rivaled anything seen at fancy celebrity weddings. Dana Sue knew she’d be lucky to keep him for another year or two at most before some big-city restaurant or catering company lured him away, but for the moment he seemed content in Serenity, happy with the latitude she gave him.

“We did plenty of fruit cobblers over the summer,” she told him. “The bread pudding sounds great for tonight. You’re cooking for the customers, not me.”

When was the last time she’d allowed herself so much as a teaspoonful of any of Erik’s rich desserts? Not since Doc Marshall had given her yet another stern lecture on losing the fifteen pounds she’d gained in the past two years, and warned her—again—that she was putting herself at risk for diabetes, the disease that had killed her mother. That should have been warning enough for Dana Sue without the doctor reminding her constantly.

She’d thought that working with her two best friends to open The Corner Spa would keep her so busy she’d stay on her diet. She’d also convinced herself that the spectacular surroundings they’d created would give her an incentive to exercise. So far, though, she’d gained five more pounds testing all the healthy drinks and low-fat muffins they’d put on the spa menu. There was a peach-pear smoothie that might be worth dying for.

Putting on weight might be an occupational hazard for a chef, but Dana Sue laid some of the blame on the collapse of her marriage two years ago. When she’d kicked Ronnie Sullivan out of her house for cheating on her, she’d consoled herself with food—unlike her daughter, who’d chosen to avoid it.

“You’re not the only person in Serenity worrying about sugar,” Erik reminded her. “I can adapt.”

“So can I. It’s not as if I’ll starve, sweetie. Tonight’s menu will have plenty of vegetables and three healthy main courses. Now, go work your magic. Our regulars expect something amazing from you every time they come in.”

“Okay,” he said finally, then gave her a penetrating look. “You want to tell me what else is on your mind?”

She frowned at him. “What makes you think there’s something else on my mind?”

“Experience,” he said succinctly. “And if you won’t talk to me, then go call Maddie or Helen and get it off your chest. If you’re as distracted during the dinner rush as you were during lunch, I’ll have to spend the whole evening bailing you out.”

“Excuse me?” she said tightly, not one bit happy about the accuracy of his comment.

“Sweetie, half a dozen meals came back in here because you’d left off some part of the order. It’s one thing to forget to send out French fries. It’s another to leave off the meat.”

Dana Sue moaned. “Oh, God, I was hoping you hadn’t noticed that.”

Erik winked at her. “I notice most everything that goes on in here. That’s what makes me a good backup for you. Now, go make that call, you hear?”

Dana Sue held in a sigh as Erik went to gather his ingredients from their well-stocked storeroom, and her own thoughts returned to her daughter. It was impossible for her to go on denying that Annie was getting skinnier by the day. She claimed she was no thinner than the models she saw in magazines and on TV, and that she was perfectly healthy, but Dana Sue thought otherwise. Her clothes hung loosely on her bony frame, Annie’s ineffective attempt to disguise just how thin she really was. Dana Sue was convinced she was starving herself so she wouldn’t turn out like her mom—overweight and alone.

Despite a frantic pace with the lunch crowd, which usually energized her and kept her focused, today Dana Sue hadn’t been able to shake the image of that abandoned brown sack. Usually Annie made a pretense of eating something just to keep her mother off her case. Now Dana Sue wondered if that left-behind paper bag, with its turkey sandwich on whole-grain bread, celery and carrot sticks and a banana, was a cry for help.

Satisfied that Erik could watch over the dinner preparations in the state-of-the-art, stainless-steel kitchen, Dana Sue slipped into her small, cluttered office to follow his advice and call Maddie at the gym. Whenever her world seemed to be crumbling, she turned to her two best friends—Maddie Maddox, who was managing The Corner Spa, and attorney Helen Decatur—for sensible advice or a shoulder to cry on. Over the years they’d grown adept at providing both. Nobody in Serenity messed with one of the Sweet Magnolias without tangling with the other two, as well.

They’d bolstered each other through schoolgirl crushes, failed marriages and health scares. They’d shared joys and sorrows. Most recently they’d gone into business together, which had brought them closer than ever, their various skills complementing each other nicely.

“How are things in the world of fitness?” Dana Sue asked, forcing a cheery note into her voice.

“What’s wrong?” Maddie asked at once.

Dana Sue bristled at being so easily read for the second time that afternoon. She obviously wasn’t as good at covering her emotions as she’d like to be. “Why do you automatically assume something’s wrong?”

“Because it’s less than an hour till your dinner rush starts,” Maddie said. “You’re usually up to your eyeballs in preparation. You don’t make casual, just-to-chat calls until after nine when things start to settle down again.”

“I am way too predictable,” Dana Sue muttered, making a vow to change that. Once, she’d been the most reckless and daring of all the Sweet Magnolias. But since the divorce, knowing she had a daughter to raise and send to college—her ex-husband made the court-ordered child support payments, but that was all—she’d turned cautious.

“So, what is it? What’s wrong?” Maddie repeated. “Did somebody complain about their quiche at lunch? Were the salad greens from the produce vendor not crisp enough?”

“Very funny,” Dana Sue said, not the least bit amused by Maddie’s reference to her perfectionism. “Actually, it’s Annie. I really think she’s in trouble again, Maddie. I know you and Helen have been worried all along about her eating habits and weight loss. The collapse at your wedding freaked all of us out, but that was almost a year ago and she’s been getting better since then. I made sure of it.” Suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of unfamiliar helplessness, Dana Sue added, “Now, I just don’t know. I think I’ve been deluding myself.”

“Tell me what happened,” Maddie commanded.

Dana Sue related the morning’s incident. “Am I making too much of her ignoring the breakfast I’d fixed, and leaving behind her lunch?” she asked hopefully.

“If that was all you had to go on, I’d say yes,” Maddie replied. “But, sweetie, you know there are other signs that Annie has an eating disorder. We’ve all seen them. When she passed out at my wedding, it was a warning. If she’s anorexic, that kind of thing doesn’t miraculously go away. She’s probably just gotten better at hiding it from you. She needs counseling.”

Dana Sue still clung to the hope they’d gotten it all wrong. “Maybe it’s just back-to-school jitters, or maybe she’s eating the cafeteria food at school,” she suggested. She wondered if Maddie’s son might have noticed something. “Could you talk to Ty? He might have some idea. They don’t have any classes together, I know. Annie told me that much today, but maybe they have the same lunch hour.”

“I’ll ask him,” Maddie promised. “But I’m not sure teenage boys pay the slightest bit of attention to what girls are eating. They’re too busy scarfing down everything in sight.”

“Try,” Dana Sue pleaded. “Obviously I’m not getting anywhere talking to her. She just gets defensive.”

“I’ll do my best,” Maddie promised. “I’ll ask Cal, too. You can’t imagine the kind of gossip my husband overhears in the locker room. Who would have guessed that a baseball coach would know so much? He may be the school’s best resource for staying on top of what the kids are up to. Sometimes I think he knows when students are in trouble before their own parents do. He certainly did in Ty’s case.”

“I remember,” Dana Sue said, recalling how concern for Ty had drawn Maddie and Cal together. “Thanks for checking into this, Maddie. Let me know what you find out, okay?”

“Of course. I’ll give you a call later tonight,” her friend promised. “Try not to worry too much. Annie’s a smart girl.”

“But maybe not smart enough,” Dana Sue said wearily. “I know this kind of thing can happen because of peer pressure and all the role models these girls see on TV and in the movies, but Annie also has a lot of issues thanks to her dad running around on me.”

“You think this has something to do with Ronnie?” Maddie sounded skeptical.

“I do,” Dana Sue told her. “I think she convinced herself it wouldn’t have happened if I’d weighed a hundred and five. Of course, I haven’t weighed that since seventh grade.”

“You’re also five-ten. You’d look ridiculous,” Maddie said.

“Probably, but it might be kind of fun to test the willowy look on the men in Serenity,” Dana Sue said with a wistful note. Then she added realistically, “But it’s never going to happen. No matter how hard I try these days, I can’t seem to lose more than a pound, and that never stays off long. I’m destined to be tall, but frumpy.”

“Sounds as if Annie isn’t the only one who could use a body image lecture,” Maddie said. “I’ll get Helen over here first thing in the morning. When you come by to drop off the salads for the café, we’ll fix that thinking of yours right up. You’re gorgeous, Dana Sue Sullivan, and don’t you forget that for a single second.”

“Let’s just focus on Annie for the time being,” Dana Sue replied, dismissing her own food issues, as well as Maddie’s loyal attempt to bolster her spirits. “She’s the one who could be in real trouble, not me.”

“Then Helen and I will help you deal with it,” Maddie assured her. “Have the Sweet Magnolias ever let each other down?”

“Not once,” Dana Sue admitted, then hesitated as a distant memory came back to her and made her smile, temporarily wiping out her anxiety over Annie. “Wait. I take that back. There was that time you two left me twisting in the wind to deal with a cop after we played a prank on our gym teacher.”

“That prank was your idea, and we didn’t intentionally leave you behind,” Maddie corrected. “We thought you could run faster. We came back for you, didn’t we?”

“Sure, right after the cop called my folks and threatened to haul me off to jail if he caught me doing anything that stupid again. I was so scared I was throwing up by the time you came back.”

“Yes, well, there’s no need to dwell on ancient history,” Maddie said briskly. “We will be there to help with Annie, whatever she needs. You, too.”

“Thanks. I’ll talk to you later, then.”

When Dana Sue placed the portable phone back in its charger, she felt the first faint stirring of relief. She’d faced a lot of turmoil, and had triumphed with Maddie and Helen by her side. They’d gotten her through her divorce and helped her open her restaurant when she hadn’t been convinced she could do it. Surely this crisis—if there even was a crisis—could be tackled just as easily if they all put their heads together.

Annie hated her physical education class. She was a complete and total klutz. Worse, Ms. Franklin—who weighed about a hundred pounds soaking wet and had boundless enthusiasm for anything athletic—was always scowling at her, as if there was something wrong with her. Usually Annie scowled right back at her, but today she couldn’t seem to summon up the energy.

“Annie, I’d like to see you after class,” Ms. Franklin said, once she’d tortured them all by making them jog around the track. Twice.

“Uh-oh,” Sarah said, giving Annie a commiserating look. “What do you suppose she wants?”

“I doubt she’s going to ask me to go out for the track team,” Annie joked, still trying to catch her breath. She’d never been athletic, but lately even the slightest bit of activity left her winded, unlike Sarah, who looked as if the run had been no more than a stroll between classes.

Sarah, who’d been Annie’s best friend since fifth grade and knew most of her deepest, darkest secrets, studied her worriedly. “You don’t think she’s going to say something about you being out of shape, do you? Grown-ups get all freaked out if they think we’re not ready to compete in some marathon or something. I mean, who’d want to do that?”

“Not me,” Annie agreed, relieved that the odd racing sensation in her chest had finally eased a little and she was able to breathe more normally.

“Maybe she found out about you passing out and ending up in the hospital.”

“Oh, come on, Sarah. That was last year,” Annie griped. “Everyone’s forgotten all about it.”

“I’m just saying, if Ms. Franklin thinks you’re going to crash in her class, maybe she’ll let you out of it.”

“As if,” Annie scoffed. “Nobody gets out of P.E. without some kind of doctor’s note, and Doc Marshall will never give me one. Not that I’d ask. If I did, my mom would have a cow. She still gets all weird about me not eating the way she thinks I should.” She rolled her eyes. “Like the way she eats is so healthy. She’s packed on so much weight since my dad left, no man will ever look at her twice. I’m never letting that happen to me.”

“How much do you weigh now?” Sarah asked.

Annie shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

Her friend regarded her with disbelief. “Oh, you are, too, Annie Sullivan. I know perfectly well you weigh yourself at least three or four times a day.”

Annie frowned. Okay, maybe she was a little obsessive about making sure that she never picked up an ounce, but she couldn’t trust the scale at home to be accurate. So she weighed herself again on the one in the locker room. And sometimes again, if she stopped by The Corner Spa to see Maddie. Even if she knew her weight to the last ounce, it didn’t mean she wanted her best friend to know. Besides, it wasn’t the number on the scale that mattered. It was the way she looked in the mirror. She looked fat and that was all that mattered. Sometimes when she saw herself in all those mirrors at the spa, she wanted to cry. She couldn’t figure out how her mom could even bear to walk into that room.

“Annie?” Sarah said, her expression worried. “Are you below a hundred? You look to me like you weigh less than ninety pounds.”

“What if I do?” Annie said defensively. “I still need to lose a couple more pounds to look really great.”

“But you promised you’d stop obsessing about your weight,” Sarah said, an edge of panic in her voice. “You said passing out when you were dancing with Ty was the most embarrassing moment of your life, and you’d never be in a position for that to happen again. You told everyone you’d keep your weight at least at a hundred pounds, and even that’s pretty skinny for your height. You promised,” Sarah emphasized. “How can you have forgotten all that? And you know it happened because you weren’t eating.”

“I hadn’t eaten that day,” Annie countered stubbornly. “I eat.”

“What have you had today?” Sarah persisted.

“My mom fixed me a huge omelet for breakfast,” she said.

Sarah gave her a knowing look. “But did you eat it?”

Annie sighed. Sarah evidently wasn’t going to let this go. “I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up over this. What have you eaten today?”

“I had cereal and half a banana for breakfast and a salad for lunch,” Sarah replied.

Annie felt like throwing up just thinking about eating that much food. “Well, good for you. Don’t come to me when you’re too fat to fit into your clothes.”

“I’m not gaining weight,” Sarah said. “In fact, I’ve even lost a couple of pounds by eating sensibly.” She gave Annie a chagrined look. “I’d give anything for a burger and fries, though. To hear my mom and dad talk, that’s all kids ever did back in the day. They went to Wharton’s after football games and pigged out. They went there after school and had milk shakes. Can you imagine?”

“No way,” Annie said.

The last time she’d eaten a burger and fries, she’d been having lunch with her dad. That was the day he’d told her he was leaving, that he and her mom were getting a divorce. Of course, after she’d witnessed her mom tossing all his stuff on the front lawn it hadn’t come as a huge shock, but it had made her sick just the same. She’d left the table at Wharton’s, run into the restroom and lost her lunch right there.

Since that awful day, nothing had appealed to her. Not the burgers and fries she’d once loved, not pizza or ice cream, not even the stuff her mom had on the menu at the restaurant. It was like her dad had yanked her appetite right out of her, along with her heart. Finding out that he’d cheated on her mom, then watching that huge, embarrassing scene on the front lawn, had pretty much killed any desire to ever eat again. Annie knew her mom had been right to do that, but it had left her feeling all alone and empty inside. Her dad had been the one guy who’d always thought she was the most beautiful, special girl in the world. She supposed he still did think that, but he wasn’t around to tell her. Hearing it on the phone wasn’t the same. No matter how many times he said it, she dismissed it because there was no way he knew how she really looked these days. It was just so much blah-blah-blah.

“It would be kinda nice to hang out at Wharton’s, though, wouldn’t it?” Sarah said wistfully. “A lot of the kids still go after school.”

“Go ahead and do it,” Annie said. “Don’t let me stop you.”

“It wouldn’t be any fun without you,” she protested. “Couldn’t we go just once? We don’t have to order what everyone else is having.”

Annie was already shaking her head. “Last time I went with my mom and Maddie and Ty, they all stared at me when I ordered water with a slice of lemon. You’d have thought I’d asked for a beer or something. And you know Grace Wharton gossips about everything. My mom would know in an hour that I was in there and didn’t have anything to eat or drink.”

Sarah looked disappointed. “I guess you’re right.”

Annie felt a momentary twinge of guilt. It wasn’t right that her hang-ups were keeping her best friend from having fun. “You know,” she said at last, “maybe it would be okay. I could order a soda or something. I don’t have to drink it.” Her mood brightened. “And maybe Ty will be there.”

Sarah grinned. “You know he will be. All the cool guys go there after school. So, when do you want to go?”

“Might as well be today,” Annie said. “I have to go see Ms. Franklin now. I’ll meet you out front after I’m finished and we can walk over.”

Wasting money on a drink she wouldn’t even sip was a small price to pay to spend an hour or so around Ty. Not that she was fooling herself by thinking he would pay the slightest bit of attention to her. Not only was Ty a senior, he was a star on the baseball team. He was so beyond her reach. He was always surrounded by the most gorgeous girls in his class. He seemed to like the tall, thin ones with long, silky blond hair and big boobs. Annie, at only five foot three, with chestnut curls and no chest to speak of, couldn’t compete with them.

But she had one thing none of those girls had. She and Ty were almost family. She got to spend holidays and lots of other special occasions with him. And one of these days, when she was thin enough, when her body was absolutely perfect, he was going to wake up and notice her.

2

It was hotter than blazes working on the roof of yet another house in yet another new subdivision, this one outside of Beaufort, South Carolina. The sun was pounding down on Ronnie Sullivan’s bare, sweat-drenched shoulders, and under his hard hat, his head was soaking wet. His work boots felt as if they each weighed a hundred pounds.

In the past two years Ronnie had worked more construction jobs around the state of South Carolina than any man with good sense ought to. The more physically demanding, the better. He was pretty sure if he kept it up much longer, the sun would bake his brain completely, especially since he’d decided to concede defeat to his receding hairline and shave his head.

After all these months of taking any job that was offered, then going back to a cheap motel room for a cold shower, and out to some bar for an icy beer and greasy food, he was exhausted, physically and emotionally. But no matter how exhausted he was when he tumbled into bed, it was never enough to chase away the nightmares and regrets.

There was no question in his mind that he’d blown the best thing that had ever happened to him—his marriage to Dana Sue. Worse, he’d done it stupidly and carelessly, not even once thinking of the consequences until it had been too damn late.

Years of heat exposure, from a lifetime of working construction, was the only possible explanation for his idiotic decision to have a fling back in Serenity—the gossip capital of the South—practically under his wife’s nose. It had taken about a nanosecond for her to find out he’d slept with some woman he’d met in a bar after work. One time, dammit, but nobody in Serenity was handing out passes for freebies. Once was more than enough to rip his life apart.

Dana Sue hadn’t given him even a minute to explain and beg her forgiveness. She’d tossed two suitcases filled with his belongings on the front lawn, not even caring that half the contents were falling out all over the place. She’d screamed that he was lower than pond scum, that she hated him and never wanted to see him again. The entire neighborhood had witnessed his downfall. A couple of women, showing their solidarity with Dana Sue, had actually cheered her on.

Ronnie had wanted to stay and fight for their marriage, but he’d known Dana Sue long enough to recognize that stubborn, fiery glint in her eyes. He’d left, knowing he was making the second-worst mistake of his life. The first had been that tawdry, meaningless, one-night affair.

Before he’d gone, he’d taken his little girl out to lunch to try to explain things to her, but Annie hadn’t wanted to hear his explanations. At fourteen she’d been just old enough to understand exactly what he’d done and why her mother had been so furious. She’d listened to him in stony silence, then gone into the restroom and stayed there until he’d had to send Grace Wharton in after her.

Since he’d left, not a day had gone by when he hadn’t regretted hurting Dana Sue or putting that devastated look in his little girl’s eyes. Falling off the pedestal Annie’d put him on had just about broken what was left of his heart.

During the divorce proceedings he’d fought for visitation rights, but Helen had kept them to a bare minimum. Not that it had mattered. He’d spent more than a year trying to maintain some kind of contact with Annie, but she’d hung up on every call and refused to see him when he’d tried to arrange a visit. He knew some of that was out of loyalty to her mom, but a good bit more was her own disappointment and anger. For a few months now, she’d at least taken his calls, but the conversations still tended to be stilted and uninformative, nothing at all like the heart-to-hearts they used to have.

Since Dana Sue and Annie weren’t that eager to see him, Ronnie hadn’t set foot in Serenity again, coward that he was. But lately he’d been thinking more and more about going home. He wasn’t cut out for a vagabond’s life. He hated living in motel rooms and moving from place to place in search of work. He’d been on this last job for the better part of a year, but it still wasn’t the same as settling down. Even the freedom to make a play for a woman when he felt like it had worn thin. He figured there was a certain amount of irony in that.

The truth was, he missed being married, especially to Dana Sue, who’d stolen his heart when they were fifteen and hadn’t let loose of it yet. Why he hadn’t had the sense to realize that a couple of years back, before he’d done something so totally stupid, was beyond him.

Thanks to his recent talks with Annie, he knew his ex-wife hadn’t found someone else. Of course, that didn’t mean she’d take him back. If he did return to Serenity, he was going to have his work cut out for him trying to win her over, but maybe two years was long enough for her to have cooled down just a little. She might not pull a shotgun on him on sight. At least he hoped not. He knew for a fact she could hit a tin can at fifty feet. If she aimed for him, she wouldn’t miss.

And even if she hit him, as long as she didn’t hit anything vital, so what? He had it coming. And, hell, he thought with a grin, what was life without a little excitement and risk from time to time? He just needed an excuse to get his foot in the door. If winning Dana Sue back was meant to be, he figured one would come along sooner or later.

At quitting time, he climbed down off the roof, grabbed a bottle of water and took a long swallow, then doused himself with the rest of it.

Thanksgiving, he decided, with the first real anticipation he’d felt in two long years. If fate hadn’t handed him the right excuse by then, he was heading home and taking his chances.

Dana Sue and Maddie took their iced tea—unsweetened for Dana Sue, which was practically a crime in these parts—onto the shaded brick patio out back of The Corner Spa. At eight in the morning the air was still a reasonably pleasant seventy-five, but the humidity and bright sun promised a scorcher by day’s end. It would be another couple of months before that humidity loosened its grip on South Carolina, probably just in time for Thanksgiving.

Inside, a half dozen women were already working out, and a few more were in the café, having Dana Sue’s no-fat, high-fiber raisin bran muffins with bowls of fresh fruit.

“Where’s Helen?” Dana Sue asked when she and Maddie were settled.

“Taking a shower upstairs,” Maddie said. “She’s been here working out since before the doors opened.”

Dana Sue regarded her friend with disbelief. “Helen? Our Helen?”

“She had another appointment with Doc Marshall yesterday,” Maddie explained. “He read her the riot act about her blood pressure again. It’s way too high for a woman who’s only forty-one. He reminded her she was supposed to cut down on stress and get more exercise. So, for today at least, she’s determined to stick to her workout regimen.”

“Want to lay odds on how long it lasts this time?” Dana Sue said. “She was totally committed a couple of months ago, but then her caseload got heavy and she was back to working fourteen-hour days. There were a few weeks there when we didn’t even see her.”

“I know,” Maddie said. “She’s a type-A personality through and through. I’m not sure she can change. I’ve talked to her till I’m blue in the face, but she certainly isn’t listening to me.”

“Who won’t listen to you?” Helen asked, grabbing a chair and sitting.

“You, as a matter of fact,” Maddie said, without the slightest trace of guilt about talking behind Helen’s back.

“I’ve been in the gym for the last hour, haven’t I?” she grumbled, obviously guessing the topic. “What more do you want?”

“We want you to take better care of yourself,” Dana Sue said gently. “Not for one day or a week, but from here on out.”

Helen frowned. “Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”

“Yes,” Dana Sue readily admitted. It was so much easier to tackle Helen’s health issues than her own or Annie’s.

“I’m not discussing this,” Helen said. “Doc Marshall gave me a piece of his mind. I took it to heart. End of story.”

Dana Sue exchanged a look with Maddie, but neither of them said a word. If they pushed any harder, Helen would only dig in her heels and start avoiding them. It would be just the excuse she needed to stay away from the gym entirely, even if she did have a major financial stake in the place.

Helen nodded in satisfaction at their silence. “Thank you. Now then, on a far more pleasant subject, I looked over the books last night,” she said. “Memberships are up.”

“Ten percent over last month,” Maddie confirmed. “Spa treatments have nearly doubled. And the café business has tripled. We’re running well ahead of the projections in our business plan.”

Dana Sue regarded her with surprise. “Really? Are we getting more café business at breakfast or lunch?”

“All day long,” Maddie said. “We have one group of women who come in three times a week at four o’clock to work out, then have tea. They’ve been begging me to ask you to come up with a low-calorie, low-fat scone for them. They all went to London together a couple of years ago and got hooked on afternoon tea. They keep telling me what a civilized tradition it is to have a late-afternoon snack with pleasant company and conversation.”

“Now there’s an idea,” Helen said thoughtfully. “Late afternoon is probably dead a lot of the time, right?”

“So far, and it’s worse now that school’s started again,” Maddie agreed.

“I suppose some women are picking up kids from school,” Helen suggested. “Others are at work or starting dinner preparations. An afternoon-workout-and-tea promotion might encourage a few more women who think a gym’s not for them to give us a try. It might appeal to some retirees, who think they don’t fit in with the younger crowd.”

“I like it!” Dana Sue said eagerly. “Maybe we could even add in a mother-daughter promotion. That might lure in some of the moms who do car pool. It would save them from going home and fixing some snack for the kids, or leaving the kids to grab a fistful of cookies or some junk food. We can staff the day care room so the little ones will be out of their hair, while moms and daughters work out together.”

Maddie and Helen exchanged a look.

“Are you thinking you and Annie could share something like that?” Maddie asked.

“Why not?” Dana Sue asked.

“Because, for one thing, afternoon must be the worst possible time for you to be away from the restaurant,” Maddie said realistically.

“I could make it work for an hour,” Dana Sue insisted. “It would just mean more prep work in the morning or letting Erik and Karen do a little more. She’s only been at the restaurant for a few weeks, but Karen’s turning into a very capable assistant. She picks up everything I tell her in no time. And, of course, Erik could run the place with one hand tied behind him. The only reason he doesn’t is out of deference to me.”

“Deference?” Helen inquired with a raised eyebrow. “Or fear for his life? I’ve got to say, I don’t see you relinquishing that much control. That kitchen is your domain. You flipped out when somebody moved the refrigerator two inches while you weren’t around. You claimed it threw off your stride when you were in a rush.”

“I’m not that much of a control freak,” Dana Sue said irritably.

“Oh, really? Since when?” Helen taunted.

“Okay, maybe I am, just like both of you,” she conceded. “But it would be worth the sacrifice if it meant getting my daughter back on track and the two of us communicating more.”

“I hate to say it, but I’m not sure I see a teenage girl wanting to spend time at a gym with her mother,” Maddie said.

“Even one who’s obsessed with her weight?” Dana Sue asked, disappointed, but trusting Maddie’s instincts when it came to her daughter. Both Maddie and Helen seemed better able to read Annie these days than she was. Maybe it was their objectivity.

“Especially then,” Maddie said. “This place is filled with mirrors, for one thing. People with body-image issues hate that. I’ve seen the way Annie shies away from looking in them whenever she stops by here.”

“Then what do I do?” Dana Sue demanded. “You talked to Cal and Ty, Maddie, and they both said Annie’s not eating, right? If she’s not eating at home and she’s not eating at school, then she has a problem. Am I supposed to let her starve herself before I do something?”

“Of course you can’t ignore what’s happening,” Maddie soothed. “But you have to be smart about it. You need real proof before you confront her.”

“Aside from her weight?” Dana Sue said. “I bet she doesn’t weigh ninety pounds. Her clothes just hang on her. Maybe I should take her back to Doc Marshall and let him deal with her. Maybe he could scare some sense into her.”

“Has he scared you?” Helen asked pointedly. Not waiting for an answer, she said, “No, because you’ve known him forever. All of us have known him forever. Heck, he used to give us lollipops. You don’t listen to him. I don’t listen to him.”

“Which is a whole other issue,” Maddie commented pointedly.

Helen shrugged off the warning. “Whatever. My point is that he’s a big ole teddy bear who smokes in secret and probably has high blood pressure, high cholesterol and all the other stuff he warns us about. Who’s going to take him seriously?”

Maddie frowned at her. “Just because he doesn’t intimidate you doesn’t mean he couldn’t get through to Annie. Unfortunately, though, he’d only be speculating about whether she has an eating disorder, the same way we are. We need some sort of proof so Dana Sue can confront her with real evidence Annie can’t possibly deny.”

“Such as?” Dana Sue asked, frustrated. “Isn’t the fact that she doesn’t touch any food I put in front of her evidence enough?”

“She’ll just claim she’s eating when you’re not around,” Maddie said. “She might even toss food down the garbage disposal to make you think she’s eaten it. I’m sure there are a lot of sneaky ways she can think of to reassure you, especially since you’re not always there at mealtime.”

“The scales don’t lie,” Dana Sue said. “Not that she’d let me get within ten feet of her when she’s weighing herself.”

Helen’s expression turned thoughtful. “Maybe we’re going about this all wrong. We’re focusing completely on Annie, which probably makes her feel as if she’s under a microscope.”

Maddie nodded slowly. “I think you have a point. Do you suppose Annie’s friends have eating disorders, as well?” she asked Dana Sue.

Dana Sue thought about that. She’d overheard some of them talking about dieting from time to time, but none were as painfully thin as Annie. To her they didn’t seem any more obsessed about their weight than Dana Sue or her friends were.

“Not that I’ve noticed,” she replied eventually. “Sarah Connors is around the house the most and she looks perfectly healthy. She and Annie talk about whatever fad diet is in the news, but Sarah eats the meals and snacks I fix for them. So do most of the others.”

“You’re sure of that?” Maddie asked.

“Well, I don’t stand over them every second and watch, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Maybe you should,” Helen countered.

“Are you crazy? Annie would flip out if I insisted on hanging out with her and her friends.”

“Goodness knows, we would have,” Maddie agreed. “But could you suggest a sleepover? Maybe order pizzas, have a ton of snacks available, and bake some brownies and see how they handle it? Just stick your head in from time to time to see who’s eating and who’s not?”

Dana Sue regarded her quizzically. “You want me to spy on them?”

“Okay, it sounds ridiculous,” Maddie admitted. “But it might give you some idea if this is just Annie’s problem or if she’s responding to peer pressure. And spying is a very underrated tool for parents. We need to know what’s going on with our kids. Period.”

“Okay, let’s say I buy that,” Dana Sue said. “What will I really find out? If the food’s gone, sure, then someone ate it. Or they flushed it down the toilet. Or they binged and purged. There’s more than one eating disorder, you know.”

“I agree with Maddie. I think it’s worth a shot,” Helen said. “What have you got to lose?”

Considering how little she knew about the eating habits of Annie’s friends, maybe it would give her some much-needed insight, Dana Sue decided. “I suppose it could work,” she conceded eventually. It might be a pretty flimsy lifeline, but she was desperate. She’d grab on to anything at this point.

Maddie beamed at her. “That’s the spirit. Now let’s talk about you.”

Dana Sue frowned. “No can do. I’ve got to go.”

“Not so fast,” Helen said, latching on to her arm until she sank back down in her seat. “What has Doc Marshall told you lately?”

“That I’m still borderline diabetic, that I need to exercise, watch what I eat and check my blood sugar on a regular basis,” she recited dutifully.

“And you’re doing all that?” Maddie pressed.

“Yes,” she said, though she didn’t look either of them in the eye.

“Really?” Helen’s skepticism was plain. “You must be using all this lovely, expensive exercise equipment we bought when I’m not around.” She glanced at Maddie. “Is that right? Is Dana Sue in here, say, midmorning? Midafternoon?”

“Maybe I’m sneaking in after the place is closed!” she snapped. “And I don’t know what gives you the right to question my exercise routine. Yours is no better.”

“Agreed,” Helen said at once. “Which is why I’ve come up with a suitable challenge for each of us.”

“This isn’t good,” Maddie mumbled.

Dana Sue grinned. “No kidding.”

“Okay, you two, I’m serious,” Helen said. “I think we should each write down our goals, whatever they are, and a plan for reaching them. Whichever one of us sticks to the plan and achieves the goal wins something spectacular, to be paid for by the other two.”

Maddie’s eyes immediately lit up. She’d always loved a competition. And she loved winning almost as much as Helen did. “Do we each get to pick out our own prize?”

Helen nodded. “Seems only fair, don’t you think?”

“Any price limit?” Dana Sue asked. “You’re the only one of us raking in big bucks.”

Helen grinned. “Which should be excellent motivation for each of you to want to beat me. However, I happen to know Sullivan’s is way ahead of your financial projections, and if this place continues at its current pace, your cries of ‘poor me’ won’t hold water. The Corner Spa is going to make us all rich. We deserve to splurge, and none of us is going to go bankrupt if we do. The profits from this place will see to that.” She turned to Maddie. “So, what’s your dream prize?”

“The sky’s really the limit?” she asked, looking thoughtful.

“Why not?” Helen said with a shrug. “The whole idea is to motivate ourselves to work at this. The promise of a new dress or a pair of shoes won’t cut it.”

“Then I think a trip to Hawaii for my first anniversary would be wonderful,” Maddie declared. “We probably couldn’t take it till spring break, but I’d be willing to wait for that.”

Helen made a note on her ever-present legal pad. “So, a first-class trip for two, or three counting the baby, since I can’t see your mother looking after an infant. She’s only recently adjusted to babysitting your other three and two of them are in their teens.”

“Yes, it would definitely be for three,” Maddie confirmed. “Cal would never agree to leave Jessica Lynn behind. He can barely make himself go out the door to work.”

Helen turned to Dana Sue. “How about you? Any dream vacations you’ve been denying yourself? A new car? A fancy new kitchen at home?”

“I spend all day in a fancy new kitchen at the restaurant,” Dana Sue said. “That’s enough stainless steel for me. And I think travel’s highly overrated.”

“Only because you got lost on our senior trip to Washington, D.C.,” Maddie teased. “No one’s ever let you live that down, and you haven’t left South Carolina since.”

“Okay, no kitchen, no travel,” Helen said. “What, then? Dream big.”

There was only one thing Dana Sue really wanted for herself. She wanted a man in her life, the right man, one who would respect her and treat her as if she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. And, in the deepest, darkest corner of her heart, she wanted that man to be Ronnie Sullivan. Unfortunately, as much as Helen and Maddie loved her, they couldn’t give her that. And as furious as they were with him, it wasn’t a fantasy they’d encourage, anyway.

“I know what she wants,” Maddie said quietly.

“What?” Helen asked.

Maddie’s eyes locked with Dana Sue’s. “She wants Ronnie back.”

“I most certainly do not,” she sputtered indignantly, out of habit or maybe self-defense or embarrassment. How shameful was it to still want a man she’d made such a huge production out of throwing out? “How could you even say such a thing, Maddie? You know what that man did to me. You were there to pick up the pieces. Ronnie Sullivan is the last thing I want. If I never see his sorry face again, it will be too soon.”

Her two best friends regarded her with knowing expressions.

“Emphatic,” Helen said.

“Too emphatic?” Maddie asked.

They both grinned, thoroughly pleased with themselves.

Dana Sue scowled. “Well, all I have to say is that if Ronnie Sullivan is your idea of a spectacular prize, then one of you take him. I don’t want him. And the prospect of having him back certainly wouldn’t motivate me to do anything except order a large pizza every single night for the rest of my life.”

“Maybe she means it, after all,” Maddie said, though she sounded doubtful.

“Okay, then, a spiffy little convertible,” Helen suggested. “Red, maybe?”

Dana Sue grinned, relieved to have the topic of Ronnie behind her. “Now you’re talking my language. And it better have a top-of-the-line stereo system, plus that navigational gizmo.”

“That’s definitely important,” Maddie agreed, “since you have absolutely no sense of direction—thus the problems you had on the senior trip.”

“Stop reminding me of that,” Dana Sue retorted good-naturedly. “I get where I’m going.”

“Eventually,” Helen commented.

“Okay, smarty-pants, what about you?” Dana Sue asked her. “What’s your big prize?”

“A shopping spree,” Helen said without any hesitation.

“Was there ever any doubt?” Maddie asked wryly.

Helen scowled at her. “In Paris,” she added.

“All right!” Maddie said enthusiastically. “And we all get to go.”

Dana Sue laughed. “I’m liking this more and more. Now I almost don’t care if Helen wins.”

“No fair,” Helen said. “You have to promise to really try to win your own prize.”

“When does this contest start?” Maddie asked.

“As soon as we set our goals,” Helen said. “And they need to be meaningful goals, ambitious but attainable, okay? Shall we meet same time tomorrow to share them and decide how long we have to attain them?”

“I’m in,” Maddie said.

Dana Sue thought of the nifty little red sports car she’d seen the last time she and Annie had gone to Charleston. It had reminded her of a car Ronnie had had a long time ago, before they’d gotten married, long before things between them had gone so terribly wrong.

“Me, too,” she said at once.

Maybe she’d never be thin and willowy again, but perhaps she could recapture that carefree, confident feeling she’d had at eighteen, when everything was right with her world. And maybe if she felt better about herself, she could find a way to teach Annie how to do the same thing.