Slightly South of Simple (Peachtree Bluff #1)

I thought back. She had seemed like her usual self to me. Although truth be told, I’d been so preoccupied with the girls lately, I hadn’t talked to her as much. When I did, she always seemed to be flitting off to one place or another. She and Scott had always been closer. “I haven’t noticed anything off, but I haven’t seen her in six months. She seems happy and busy to me. What’s up?”


“Maybe nothing,” he said. “I’m probably overreacting. She has seemed confused to me sometimes lately.”

I laughed. “Well, Scott. She’s eighty-three. Some confusion might begin to set in at some point.”

“I guess,” he said. “How are four of my five favorite girls?”

“Is that like the four out of five dentists that prefer Trident?” I smiled. “Well, your favorite sister is doing really well. She is ecstatic to have all her grandchildren home at once. And your nieces are hanging in there.”

“Do you know what’s cool?” Scott asked.

“What’s cool?”

“How it used to drive me nuts when we were kids that you had to be my favorite sister but I wasn’t necessarily your favorite brother, but now . . .”

I laughed. “Scott! You should be ashamed of yourself!”

“Oh, I knew this whole time that if I just waited long enough John would screw it up, and favorite-brother status would be mine.” He laughed a villain-in-a-superhero-movie laugh.

We said our good-byes, and I was still smiling as I entered the store.

But the light feeling floated away, and I began feeling heavy. And stressed. I had no idea what we would do when we got to the point where Mom needed help. But you didn’t have to be a genius to realize that it would fall to me. It was a Southern daughter’s life purpose to care for her mother. Which was the highest form of irony, since she hadn’t helped me one bit when I needed her the most. As Mom (and Scarlett O’Hara) would say, I’d think about that tomorrow.

When I got to the front door of the store, Kimmy was waiting for me. She had a huge basket filled with delicious-looking produce.

“Oh, thanks, Kimmy,” I said, as I slid the key into the lock. I pushed harder than usual. It had rained late the night before, and rain always made the door swell.

“Word on the street is that you’re feeding more than one these days.”

I laughed gleefully, realizing that I truly felt as happy as I sounded—today, anyway. “I am, indeed,” I said. “In fact, could you head down to the house? Emerson consumes the amount of produce in that basket hourly, and I’m sure she’d be glad to see you.”

Kimmy’s eyes lit up, a bit of a rare sight. “Sounds great.”

I reached into my bag and handed her a hundred-dollar bill. “Just keep a tab going, if you don’t mind.”

“Kale yeah, I will.”

We both laughed. I elbowed her lightly. “Maybe we could make you ‘Kale Yeah Kimmy.’?”

She rolled her eyes. And I had enough of that to deal with, didn’t I?

The door had barely closed behind me when the bell tinkled its happy sound. “She’s an odd bird, isn’t she?”

I couldn’t help but smile, and I so hoped I wasn’t blushing. But he had that effect on me. “She is that.”

I turned to smile at him, and he smiled right back. Jack motioned with his head toward the waterfront. “Some guys are here today replacing the teak on the deck. Would you mind giving me a hand with the stain color?”

I looked down at my watch. “Now?”

I was a little disappointed. This wasn’t a social call.

Just then, Leah breezed in. “I’m here. All is right with the world. I’m going to finish putting together the mood boards for Jack’s boat today. And then I’ll sort that new shipment of accessories from Barbara Cosgrove and arrange them—so that you can rearrange them.”

“Well, then,” Jack said. “Seems like you’re nothing more than a fixture in this store.” He pointed up. “Like the pretty light. How much is that?”

I pulled his hand down and shook my head. “You can’t afford it.”

He laughed and held his arm out to me, and I took it. “A beautiful fixture,” he whispered, as we crossed the threshold, making me blush in earnest now.

I wondered what my daughters would think if they saw me on the arm of a very handsome man—who wasn’t the one who raised them. But a few minutes of pretending wasn’t going to hurt anyone. Nope. Not a bit.

“Thanks for coming by the other night,” Jack said. “Sorry if I was a downer.”

I smiled. “A downer? No, not at all. You were wonderful.”

“Good. How is life at the Murphy mansion?” Jack quipped.

“It is hectic and lovely.” I smiled at him.

It was such a beautiful morning. The sun was shining, and the trees were blowing in the breeze. My dress and light sweater were perfect. There was no doubt about it, spring was around the corner. But I couldn’t focus on any of it, because all I could think about was my arm and Jack’s arm and his eyes and those dimples and the way he made my stomach feel like it was flip-flopping around in my insides. I was too old to be acting and feeling this way. And he would be gone in a matter of weeks when his boat was seaworthy again. But maybe that was what made it so good. I didn’t have to feel that urge to run away, because it couldn’t go anywhere.

I let go of Jack’s arm reluctantly, knowing that I would only put mine back around his if he offered and not knowing whether he would. It was like being a teenager again in a lot of ways. You weren’t even considering sex. Not even kissing, really. Just flirting a little, testing the waters, wondering when your hand would brush his again. When he would say that thing that made you feel special and beautiful all at once. And hoping it wouldn’t be too long.

“I would love to meet your girls,” Jack said. “And I made a gift for little Adam.”

Despite my happy feelings, the warning bells rang in my mind. I had realized decades earlier that a part of me would always love Jack. But my love for him couldn’t begin to touch my love for my girls. Yes, they were encouraging me to date. But my motherly instinct told me that this wasn’t the right time to bring someone new into their lives. They had enough turmoil. Plus, I couldn’t be sure since I’d never been through this, but I felt pretty certain that you didn’t introduce a man to your children until you were very serious. Jack and I hadn’t even been on a date.

“Jack,” I said softly. “Would it be OK if I waited awhile before I introduced you to the girls?”

He stopped walking and was looking at me. “Oh, yes. Of course. Sorry.” He shook his head. “I’m getting ahead of myself. It’s just that it has always felt so easy to be with you.”

I nodded. It had. It was natural, like sliding back into a great-fitting pair of sunglasses that you had lost and then found again.

As I approached the hunk of junk that was supposed to be a boat one day, my stomach turned again, for a different reason. I had vision, but honestly, I wasn’t sure about this one.

“Ansley!”

“Sheldon!” He was sanding the front of the boat.

He embraced me in a big, sweaty hug that, frankly, I could have done without. “So are you the high priestess of teak stain? That’s what I’m told.”

I laughed and looked at Jack. “Why, thank you, sir.”

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