Marquita Valentine - Not Over You

Blackbeard purred in response.

She looked into his blue eyes and made a face. “It hasn’t been that long.”

The cat kept staring, and his tail twitched.

“All right, it has been a long time, but I plan on staying a long time.” She stroked his back. “Does my time frame meet with your approval?”

Blackbeard wriggled out of her arms, and she let him go. Rising to her feet, she left the porch and the mail behind her as she entered the house.

A white envelope propped up on a table in the foyer caught her eye. Her name was boldly written on it. Blackbeard jumped on the table, rubbing against the mirror.

“You’re so vain now. Is Rose’s husband the reason for it?” she asked the cat. Picking up the note, she examined it and then let out a puff of air when she couldn’t discern what was inside without opening it.

“Fine,” she muttered, lifting the back flap and pulling out the letter.

Dear Summer,

Sasha, Ivy, and I are traveling in Zimbabwe at the moment. We are opening a new school there, and then another one in Brazil.

“A globetrotting Holland. Who would have thunk it?” she said, absently petting Blackbeard.

Normally, I keep Carolina Dreams closed during our trips, but there are several couples that will need our help. I hope that you can find a way to reopen the store while I’m gone. After all, you and Skye helped start it. Please pay yourself whatever you think is fair. Harrison can help you, if you have any questions.

“Fat chance of Harrison helping me,” Summer muttered.

Please make yourself at home. You’ll find your old bedroom ready for you. I’m sure Blackbeard can show you the way, if you’ve forgotten.

All My Love,

Rose

P.S. Tell Blackbeard to stay out of my closet. He has a nasty habit of drooling on my cashmere sweaters.

P.P.S. That was Sasha, not me. Blackbeard has a crush on him.

P.P.P.S. Why wouldn’t he? I’m very pleasing to the eye, as are you.

P.P.P.P.S. Beauty fades, but I’ll keep you anyway.

Summer swallowed a giggle, and then crumpled up the letter. Her sister was truly in love, and the man she married was truly in love with her. The thought of it warmed the coldness that lived inside of her, but only a little. A little was all she would allow.

She looked in the mirror, not at herself, but at the room behind her. Everything inside the house had changed. It was elegant and touchable. The large chairs flanking either side of the fireplace practically begged to be sat in, but she wouldn’t succumb.

Instead, she scooped up Blackbeard and dropped the letter on the table. She wandered around for what seemed like hours, taking in the newness as memories washed over her.

Running through the house with her sisters, laughing as Blackbeard chased after them. Their mother teaching her how to illustrate botanical recipes long after everyone had gone to bed, not even Rose suspected Summer had been the one to do that.

Trying the new recipes Rose invented. Putting up with all the friends Skye would make and try to bring home with her. Meeting Gabriel for the first time, in the backyard, when he’d gotten lost in the woods.

But along with the good, came the bad.

Growing up to look exactly like Azalea. Dealing with the rumors while, struggling not to become what she was accused of being. Azalea kicking her out. Living with Patrick—

Summer paused in the middle of the upstairs hallway and closed her eyes.

She wouldn’t think of him, of what he demanded after letting her stay the night when she had nowhere else to go. Summer had thought Patrick was her friend, because he was Gabriel’s friend. And Gabriel would have never been friends with—

Her eyes popped open, and she marched to her old room.

It didn’t matter what Gabriel used to be, was right now, or would be in the future. Coming home to Holland Springs had nothing to do with him.

She threw open the door and stepped inside. The room was tastefully done in soft greens and rich creams, two of her favorite colors. Little splashes of pink and yellow made the room extra homey.

But the picture of her holding a newborn Ivy seemed to mock her from the mantle over the fireplace. Her lips twisted, and her jaw clenched.

It’s the right thing, Summer.

But it hurts.

I know it does, but I’ll help you, every step of the way, if you want.

Gabriel. It was his fault she’d given up Ivy like she had. It was his fault that she allowed him to see her in a weak moment. Otherwise, she would have never let Rose adopt Ivy. She would have found a way to make herself a better mother… to make herself love a child who no longer knew her. A child who looked so much like the man who’d helped her, who’d found her in a diner while she counted tips and how many days were left before she had to pay rent again.

Darius.

Though she hadn’t loved him, she had liked him and the way he treated her, like she mattered and deserved respect. She’d admired him and the sacrifices he’d made while in the ARMY. When he’d died in a roadside bomb, a piece of her died along with him.

The image of mother and child blurred. Summer blinked, and tears ran down her cheeks.

No matter what, she’d never let herself be that weak again.

The next day, at precisely nine AM, Summer reopened Carolina Dreams. She’d been up since dawn, reacquainting herself with the apothecary shop. Everything was as it should be, neatly labeled, and stored in the back and across the street, according to the second letter Rose had left for her.

Summer glanced around the office, taking in the new desk, new desk chair, new computer, and plethora of family pictures. She ran a finger along the edge of a frame. Ivy, Rose, and Sasha posed in the pictured. Ivy wore a tutu, a bow in her hair, and a sweet smile.

Summer flipped the picture over.

The bells on the door rang, and she walked to the front, standing behind the massive counter made of wood and glass. This would be her battle station, the place where she could draw power and throw containers of shampoo at customers if she had to.

God, she hoped she didn’t have to.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as the first, second, third, and fourth customer walked inside, made their purchase, and left. All with a wave and a smile.

All said things like:

It’s nice to meet you.

I love your store.

This is exactly what I’ve been looking for.

Say hello to Rose.

Tell her we miss her.

For the next three days, the pattern repeated with even more customers, until it felt as though the bells over the door played Carol of the Bells due to all the activity.

By the time three o’clock rolled around on Wednesday, Summer was mentally exhausted, but she couldn’t close until the tall redhead finished shopping. The woman kept giving Summer looks, but for the most part, Summer thought it was merely curiosity and not hostility.

“Could you help me, please?” the woman called out.

Summer moved to the corner of the store, to where the scented lotions and body washes were displayed. “Is there a certain scent that speaks to you?”

The redhead gave her an odd look, her green eyes a touch frosty. “Speaks to me?”

“Have you smelled any of them, and have a particular favorite or two?” Summer asked, trying again. Unlike Rose, she didn’t immediately grab the scent she knew would complement the customer, because she preferred the customer to come to their own conclusions—with a little guidance, of course.