He put his shoes on and went inside the café. Busying himself with making coffee and turning on the ovens, he mumbled to himself about how he’d like to put Harper in the time-out chair like Annie had done when she was a little girl. He was still fussing when she came into the café with a big smile on her face.
“Mornin’, Uncle Zed,” she said cheerfully.
“Don’t you mornin’ me, girl. You scared the hell out of me. I can’t even swim and I was goin’ to dive into that cold lake water to save you.” His finger shook harder with each word. “You’ve got to stop this crap and get on with your life. You were sixteen damn years old and didn’t have much choice in what happened.”
“I know,” she said softly. “I wasn’t going to drown myself, honest. I was just thinking through a lot of things. I was hoping to find peace.”
“Did it work?” He eyed her carefully to see if she was shooting him a line of bullshit.
“Won’t know for sure until next year, but if Granny died so I can find peace, then I owe it to her to try.”
“Yes, you do. I was prayin’ hard that you wouldn’t . . . well, you know,” Zed said.
“So I had an angel in heaven and one still on the earth working for me.” She crossed the floor and wrapped him up in a bear hug, then kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for that.”
“Seems to me like you’re leavin’ one out. Wyatt was ready to dive in there to save you, too.” Zed glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Wyatt, who was coming through the door.
“I’m no angel, not by any stretch of the word, but I’m grateful for the two of you if it helped her at all,” Wyatt said.
Harper walked away from Zed and wrapped her arms around Wyatt’s neck. “He’s a knight in shining armor, and I was so glad to see him standing on the shore waiting for me.”
“I think she’s okay now.” Wyatt smiled.
“Maybe not totally, but I’ve got family and Wyatt to help me if I just ask. I promise I will, Uncle Zed, from now on.” Zed held up a pinkie finger, and she crossed the room in a few long strides to lock her little finger with his. “I remember you doing this with us when we were kids.”
With a firm grip, he kept her finger in his, his green eyes boring into hers. “If you don’t ask for help, it’ll be a long time in the time-out chair for you, young lady.”
“I hate sitting on a chair,” she said.
He unhooked his finger from hers and headed for the kitchen. “Then remember that. Wyatt, come on back here with me while she gets the tables set up for the breakfast run.”
“Y’all could raise your voices so that I can hear what you say about me,” Harper said.
Zed slammed the door and turned on the radio that he kept on the cabinet. “I don’t want her to hear what I got to say, and that can be her punishment for comin’ nigh to givin’ this old man a heart attack.”
“You saw her go into the water?” Wyatt leaned against the door.
“I couldn’t get my breath enough to get to her. I was so glad to see you,” Zed said. “I was prayin’ harder than I ever prayed before except the night that Annie passed. I wanted Jesus to heal her right then and there and let me keep her with me. I felt that kind of thing in my soul when Harper kept taking one step after another into the water. So thank you, but son, if you ever hurt her, it’ll be your body they’ll find floatin’ in the lake.”
Wyatt clamped a hand on Zed’s shoulder. “I could never hurt her. I want to help her heal from all that I helped put her through. I was as much to blame as she was in what happened, and I don’t know how I would have dealt with it at sixteen, but at twenty-six I just want to be here for her, Zed.”
“Then do a good job of it so I don’t have a damned heart attack. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Annie will kick my black butt right down to hell if I let somethin’ happen to one of her precious girls.”
Wyatt chuckled. “Just think of what she’d do to me.”
Zed shivered. “Don’t want to think about that. It’s too scary. You get on back out there and help her get things ready for the breakfast rush, and I’ll give you your meal for free this mornin’.”
“Thank you,” Wyatt said. “And thanks for callin’ me.”
Zed nodded very seriously.
Wyatt opened the door to find three sisters and Brook squared off in the dining room, hands on hips, dirty looks shooting around like fire from sparklers on the Fourth of July. “I think maybe you’d better come on out here, Zed.”
“What I think is that you better shut that door and stay on this side of it with me,” Zed told him. “They got to work this out by themselves.”
Wyatt eased the door shut. “What can I do to help you?”
“Stir this sausage. Keep it movin’ real slow like. When they get done, they’ll have worked up an appetite.”
“What in the hell is going on in here?” Dana hissed and nodded toward the closed kitchen door. “You know Uncle Zed is—”
“In the kitchen with Wyatt,” Tawny finished for her and then pointed at Harper. “She tried to drown herself this morning.”
Brook ran across the floor and put her arms around Harper. “Why would you do that?”
“I did not try to drown myself.” Harper took a couple of steps back.
Tawny opened her hands, put them both on Harper’s chest, and pushed her hard. “Yes, she did. She started to drown herself this mornin’.” Tawny’s voice got higher and shriller with each word. “I was havin’ a nightmare about Granny Annie bein’ in water that she couldn’t get out of, so I went outside on the porch.”
Harper grabbed the edge of a table to keep from falling. Her hands knotted into fists. “Don’t push me, little sister, because I will push back. And I don’t have to explain anything to you,” she said. “You need to get your story straight before you go tellin’ tales. I was only waist-deep in water, and I can swim like a fish. I wasn’t even thinking of drowning myself. Give me some credit.”
Dana took a few steps forward and got nose to nose with Harper. “Have you lost your mind? What happened, Tawny?”
“She was singing a song about facing death and then she walked right out into the water. Almost gave me a heart attack, but then Wyatt went runnin’ down there and she turned around and walked into his arms,” Tawny said.
Harper pulled out a chair and plopped down into it. “I was thinking about Granny. The song was about her, not me. I was wondering if she had to die to bring me peace.”
“Peace for what?” Brook asked as she scooted a chair close enough to Harper that she could hold her hand.
“Just peace for all the hatred, anger, and guilt I have built up inside me,” Harper said honestly.
“What’s that got to do with me?” Dana asked.
“I’ve hated you so much.” Harper pointed at Dana.
“Hey, now. I know we don’t always get along, but hate is a strong word. Why would you feel that way?”
“Because you have a beautiful daughter and you kept her and raised her and you were old enough that you could marry her father.”
“But—” Dana started.
Harper shook her head emphatically. “I didn’t do the same thing you did. I gave my daughter away, and I go through this guilt trip every single year on her birthday and on the day that I gave her away and walked away from the girls’ home. That’s what it was, Tawny, not a boarding school. Mama sent me away because she was ashamed of me and because she couldn’t face her friends if her daughter had a bastard child.”