Sweet Caroline(95)

He slides the ring onto my pinky finger. “When I was on Oprah, I noticed she had a ring like this. I liked it. Whenever you wear it, remember your best friend loves you. No promises or strings attached. I just wanted you to have something from me.”

I didn’t want to cry today. “I don’t have anything for you.”

He grins, then kisses my forehead so softly. “Friends?”

“Friends. Yes. Best friends.”

The horizon beyond my small oval airplane window is like one of Elle’s lowcountry paintings—wild with color and light. Gold and red mixed with the fading blue sky, reaching down to the dark line that is earth.

The power of the jet’s engine makes my muscles rumble. When we lift off, I feel like I’m floating. I’m doing it. Leaving on a jet plane, as Daddy said, singing some old Peter, Paul and Mary tune.

Mitch stayed with me, Dad, and Posey until I walked down the Jet-way. He promised to e-mail, perhaps see if he could get a gig in Spain this summer. Posey already has Dad saving for a spring visit.

When I paused and looked back before disappearing inside the jet, Mitch smiled, raising his hand to wave. That’s when a new “suddenly” hit me.

Maybe we’re not as over as I thought.

My life changed the day a man died. Seven months ago, I left a man’s funeral, wondering what would be next for me. Because Jones died, a bunch of scary, yet wonderful things happened.

If I’d have known I would inherit the Frogmore Café, race the Marines in the Water Festival, deal with electrical and plumbing problems, and part with Matilda to pay for it, I would’ve run screaming against traffic down Robert Smalls Parkway.

If I’d known about J. D. and Mitch, I’d . . . well, do it all over again.

I saw Matilda the other day. Henry pointed her out. Wayne gave her a beautiful makeover. Then decided to keep her for himself.

Being home, stuck in Beaufort, tending Jones’s legacy brought the best gift of all. Meeting Jesus. The God I hoped was real every time I climbed my live oak sanctuary, is. Sometimes I catch a whiff of His perfume.

With a freeing breath, I close my eyes and lean into the turn of the banking plane.





Acknowledgments

Every story requires a mountain of support. I’m very grateful to all who have shined their light on the journey of writing Caroline’s story. Thank you to:

Catherine Hipp at the Beaufort, South Carolina, Chamber of Commerce. Thank you for showing me around your beautiful city.

Connie Hipp for being my quick and wonderful Beaufort and low-country resource. I so appreciate all your help. I couldn’t have done this without you. All mistakes are mine.

Charles Gay, Gay Fish Co, for the pluff mud and shrimping stories.

Aaron Hinman and Jason Flores, for the great talk one afternoon at Luther’s, and for standing on the wall to watch over our freedoms. Semper Fidelis.

A big thanks to the other Beaufortonians who lent their expertise:

Sherry Little for Water Festival information and the raft race idea. Bernie Kole for rewiring and plumbing expertise. William Winn for Beaufort hurricane details. Lisa Estes for will, probate, and other legal help. Anne Schumacher for insight into the life of a restaurateur, and Nicole Seitz.

Terry Dunham for writing a song about the Praise House, going on an adventure to Beaufort, and showing us your brief movie, which inspired the setting for this story.

Also, thanks to:

Jess Dang, Chris Cox, Bart Black, Chef Rob, the crew at La Patina’s, Melbourne, FL.

Thank you to:

Leslie Peterson, for weeding through this manuscript with expertise, pointing out the holes, and asking me to go deeper. You make me a bet-ter writer. Thank you!

Ami McConnell, my editor and friend, for believing in me. And to Allen Arnold, Jennifer Deshler, and the great staff at Thomas Nelson.

Karen Solem, my agent, for encouragement and all-around expertise.

Christine Lynxwiler. What a gift and blessing from God you have been to me this year. You’ve encouraged me, prayed for me, brainstormed, and made me laugh. Thank you so very much. I can’t imagine what I’d have done without you.

Susie Warren, superwoman! Thank you so much for jumping into the quagmire when I was sinking. You were an instrument of God that dark night. Thank you for brainstorming at the drop of a hat, praying, and shoving me forward. You are a blessing.

Colleen Coble, for being a friend and mentor. Thank you for being on the other end of the phone to encourage me. You are a gift from God to me and so many others.

Ellen Tarver, for reading this manuscript in its early stages and offer-ing ideas.

My mom, grandma, sister, and Aunt Betty for praying and believing in me. I love you.

Tony, the best husband ever. Each book is fragrant with your heart for me and Jesus. Thank you for allowing me the freedom to pursue this calling and dream.

Anna Marie, Ted, Lin, Chelle, and the many others who listened and prayed. Your reward in heaven is great!

Jesus, my friend, Lord, Savior, inspiration. You are the core of me, thus the core of each story. I long to write about You in a way that is pleasing to all of heaven. Thank You for being with me even when I don’t sense it. You are faithful. I love You.





Reading Group Guide

1. In the first chapters of the book, we discover how Caroline has fallen into a pattern of giving up her wants to help others. Discuss a time in your life when you gave up your goals and dreams to serve others. What was the outcome?