A Perfect Love. Lenora Worth

next month is Summer Gospel Jam—”

      “I’ve heard enough,” Summer said, opening the rickety truck door with a knuckle-crunching yank. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this mess.”

      “Yes, ma’am,” Mack said, his grin widening.

      “Do you find this humorous?” Summer asked as they met in front of the truck.

      “Kinda,” he said, then he turned more serious.

      Probably because she had murder in her eyes. “I’d advise you to stop grinning.”

      He did. “You don’t like change, do you?”

      She lifted a brow. “I can handle change just fine, thank you. What I don’t like is when people manipulate my perfectly respectable, God-fearing grandparents. Especially when it’s my own parents.”

      “I don’t think they were manipulated,” Mack said as he pulled her toward the feisty-looking group of old people. “I think they just got tired of the upkeep on the house and farm, and they decided to relax and have some fun.”

      “It’s just horrible,” Summer retorted, not buying his explanation at all. “You’re laughing about a situation I find very serious.”

      “Well, maybe you just take things way too seriously.”

      She stopped, blocking his way toward the party. “My poor, hardworking grandparents are trapped in this…this one-foot-in-the-grave travel stop. And I refuse to believe—”

      “Summer? Is that my sweet baby, Summer?”

      Summer stopped in midsentence, then turned to stare at the stout woman running…well, gently jogging…toward her. “Memaw?”

      “It’s me, suga’. Land’s sake, we didn’t know you were coming for a visit. C’mere and give your old granny a good hug.”

      Summer took in the hot-pink flamingoes posed across the wide berth of her grandmother’s floral muumuu, took in the bright yellow of the shiny plastic lei draping her memaw’s neck, then glanced down at her grandmother’s feet.

      “Memaw, are you wearing kitten-heeled flip-flops?”

      “Ain’t they cute?” Martha Creswell said as she enveloped Summer in a hug that only a grandmother could get away with. “And take a look at my pedicure,” she said as she wrapped her arms around Summer. “My toenails are sparkling—Glistening Party Pink, I think the beautician called it.”

      Her grandmother’s tight-gripped hug just about smothered Summer, but the sweet, familiar scent of Jergens lotion caused tears to brim in Summer’s eyes. She pulled away to smile down at her petite grandmother. “Oh, Memaw, what have they done to you?”

      “Not a thing,” Martha replied, laughing out loud. “Honey, I’m fine, just fine. But wait until you see your grandpa, sugar. He’s been on that new diet, don’t you know. Trim and slim and wired for action.”

      “Wired for action? Papaw?” Summer had a bad feeling about this whole setup. A very bad feeling.

      Chapter Three

      Summer looked her grandmother over from head to toe. Martha Creswell looked healthy and happy. Memaw had always been on the voluptuous side, but now she fairly glowed with energy and good health.

      “Have you been taking your blood pressure medicine, Memaw?”

      Martha patted her on the arm. “Of course, darling. But the doctor tells me I’m doing better than ever.” Then she held up her arm like a weight lifter. “Pumping iron and water aerobics. I’ve lost fat and gained muscle.”

      Summer wondered at that, but she couldn’t argue with her grandmother. Before she could pose another question, Martha pulled her along. “I see you’ve met Mack here.” Then Martha stopped in midstride, causing her colorful muumuu to pool around her legs. “Oh, my. That means you know about the house.”

      Summer held her grandmother’s arm. “Yes, I had to hear about it from him.” She shot a scowl toward Mack. “Why didn’t y’all let me know?”

      Martha shook her head. “It happened kind of fast—”

      Summer interrupted her with a loud hiss of breath. “I knew it. Daddy pressured y’all, didn’t he?”

      Martha looked confused. “Well, no, not really—”

      “Summer, my little pea blossom!”

      The loud voice announcing her grandfather caused Summer to whirl around and brace herself for another hug. “Papaw!”

      Summer took in the Hawaiian shirt and khaki Bermuda shorts, the stark white socks and strappy leather sandals, just before her grandfather picked her up off her feet and whirled her around.

      “It is so good to see you, suga’.”

      Her breath cut off, Summer settled back on her feet to look up at her lovable grandfather. “Papaw, what’s going on here?”

      He waved a hand in the air. “A luau. You hungry?”

      Tears misted in Summer’s eyes. That wasn’t exactly what she’d meant. “Yes, but—”

      “Then come on over here and let’s get you a plate. We got grilled pork and chicken, and fruit and vegetables for miles—most from my garden out back—”

      “You still have a garden?”

      Martha piped up as they escorted Summer toward the curious crowd. “He sure does. Everyone here calls your Papaw the Garden King. He’s in charge of the garden for the whole village. Came in and took over the one they had planted. Made that puny garden spring right to life.”

      “That’s nice,” Summer said, raising her eyebrows at Mack Riley’s triumphant I-told-you-so smile. “I’m glad you still have that, at least.”

      Her grandmother stopped right before they headed into the throng of vivid floral polyester and orthopedic shoes. “Honey, we’ve got lots to tell you, but that can all wait until later. Right now, I want you to meet some of our friends here at Golden Vista. We just love it here.”

      Summer blinked back her tears. “I’m glad, Memaw.”

      But she wasn’t so glad. She was fast going into sensory overload, her unresolved resentment at her parents ever-building inside her tired, steamed bones. Since the night she’d broken things off with Brad, she’d longed to be back here in Athens, at home, safe in the house she’d loved all her life, with the grandparents who’d taken her in without questions or judgment and given her unconditional love.

      She’d suffered right along with April back in the spring, when April’s father, Stuart Maxwell, had passed away, and Summer was still feeling the effects of that and her ugly breakup with Brad Parker. Uncle Stuart had always been larger than life and so much a part of Summer’s world, that her grief had been overwhelming at times. But, she reminded herself as she took in the colorful decorations and the festive tiki-themed party plates and cups, her cousin April was happy now. Happy in Paris, Texas, near Reed Garrison, the man she’d always loved. They were getting married in September.

      Reed, who’d always been the boy next door, would soon be April’s husband. And April would be moving into his house. They had grand plans for the Big M Ranch. They were going to turn it into some sort of vacation resort, because April wanted it to be filled with happy people, and she also wanted to honor her mother by showcasing her artwork there. The Big M certainly would make a lovely, peaceful vacation spot, but even that was changing way too fast for Summer to comprehend.

      Summer wanted to be happy for her cousin, but lately, she’d been in a blue fog of regret and resentment, causing even her best intentions to go sour.

      Which was why she’d taken this leave of absence to drive home. She’d needed some time to think about her life. In spite of the stress of her job,