Before and Ever Since (9781101612286)
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Authors: Sharla Lovelace
PRAISE FOR
The Reason Is You
“A spot-on debut novel, Sharla Lovelace's prose is smart, witty, funny, with a hot, sexy edge that makes
The Reason Is You
an oh-so-tantalizing romantic journey, without any gooey gushiness oozing too-sweet sentiment. She takes us through the lives of Dani and a fascinating cast of charactersâand lucky for readers, the line between our world and the mystical one is deliciously blurred. I could not put down this book, devoured it quickly, and can't wait to see what the author comes up with next.”
âKathryn Magendie, author of
The Firefly Dance
“
The Reason Is You
is a romantic story about love, ghosts, and second chances. But under all of that, it's a story about redemption. This novel is the definition of a page-turner.”
âTherese Walsh, author of
The Last Will of Moira Leahy
“A hauntingly beautiful story from a writer with a fresh new voice.”
âJodi Thomas, author of
Just Down the Road
“Sharla Lovelace is going on my auto-buy list. Wow! I loved this book.
The Reason Is You
is an impressive debut novel about love and loss, family bonds and family secrets, redemption and starting over. Oh, yeah, and also ghosts! . . . I would highly recommend
The Reason Is You
to fans of romantic women's fiction.”
âNovel Reflections
“
The Reason Is You,
Sharla Lovelace's debut novel, transported me to a small town, complete with small-town drama, a slight Southern feel, and a whole lot of love-triangle action! It was easy to identify with Dani, our protagonist . . . The relationships within the story are complex and fleshed out, enabling the reader to be in the moment with the characters. Great debut, Ms. Lovelace!”
â
That's What I'm Talking About
“Wow, this book was amazing . . . An amazing tale of romance and love in both the lands of the living and the dead, and a tale of how strong family bonds can form when the going gets tough and there is no one else to turn to.”
â
The Phantom Paragrapher
Berkley Sensation titles by Sharla Lovelace
THE REASON IS YOU
BEFORE AND EVER SINCE
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Copyright © 2012 by Sharla Lovelace Scroggs.
Excerpt from
The Reason Is You
by Sharla Lovelace copyright © 2012 by Sharla Lovelace Scroggs.
Cover illustration by Irene Lamprakou/Arcangel Images.
Cover design by Lesley Worrell.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
BERKLEY SENSATION
®
is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation trade paperback edition / November 2012
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Lovelace, Sharla.
Before and ever since / Sharla Lovelace.âBerkley Sensation trade paperback ed.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-1-101-61228-6
1. Self-realization in womenâFiction. 2. Family secretsâFiction. 3. Choice (Psychology)âFiction. I. Title.
PS3612.08357B44 2012
813'.6âdc23 2012026617
To Mom and Dad, who are still with me every single day. Thank you for teaching me that the world we see is not all there is.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks again to my wonderful family and friends. You never know just how amazing your little circle is until it surrounds you with so much love and support. My husband, Troy, is my biggest fan, and I love you, sweetheart. My fantastic kids, Amanda and Ethanâyou will never know how much your excitement has meant to me. And Amanda, the fact that you trolled the mall with bookmarks, and wanted to hurl the whole timeâI love you for that!
A shout-out to the ladies of the St. Elizabeth's ACTS community. Your love and excitement for
The Reason Is You
's release into the world was overwhelming. Your friendship reached a place in my heart that opened me up . . . and got me on my feet! LOL! You know what I'm talking about.
To my fab friends at the Book Club Babes groupâmy very first book club appearance will always be special to me. Love y'all!
To my Street Peeps, the fabulous people who donate their time to help me spread the word about my books, I love y'all. The biggest hurdle for a new author is getting known. And one person can reach only so far. Your enthusiasm and help are priceless!
Love again to my wondrous rock-star-super-agent-extraordinaire, Jessica Faust of BookEnds. I'm so lucky to have the best. And to my amazing editor, Wendy McCurdy, for once again guiding the way to a fantastic finished book, and for having the patience to answer five hundred and one newbie publishing questions along the way.
Huge thank-yous to all the reviewers and bloggers and individuals who have taken the time to leave reviews and even send me private e-mails telling me how much they loved my work. Writing is a solitary world sometimes, and those messages and reviews mean everything. When someone I don't even know takes time out of their day to share their personal experience with my story, I'm just in awe. It doesn't get better than that.
Enjoy!
CHAPTER
1
T
HERE IS A DISTINCT MOMENT WHEN YOU KNOW THAT YOUR DAY
has gone down the toilet. Mine was before lunch, and after my fourth cup of coffee, when an unexpected knock on my front door brought me face-to-face with my ex-husband.
Not that he was a horrible troll, or lying in wait to machete me in a weak moment, but he just wasn't one to drop by and say hello. Which was good with me. Child support and visitations came to a legal end three years prior, so daddy pickups were off the table. I stood in the doorway, wondering who died as I ran a hand through my unbrushed hair and then crossed my arms over my chest to disguise the no-bra action I had going on.
He gave me a once-over and frowned. “Are you sick?”
I started to protest that not having to get dressed was a perk of working from home, that until someone wanted to look at a house, talking to potential clients on the phone didn't require me to brush my hair or put on shoes. But I didn't feel like having that long a conversation with him. So I fake-coughed into my hand.
“Little bit. What's up?”
He shrugged. “I was wondering how much she's selling it for.”
I blinked a few times, thinking I'd missed something. “Umâshe, who?”
He tilted his head with widened eyes like he was humoring me. “Your mother?”
I opened my mouth but then just air came out. Maybe it was the coffee. Maybe I needed to eat something or go for a walk. Use the treadmill that was collecting dust in a corner of my office.
I shook my head. “IâI give up, Kevin. What about my mother?”
“Her house, Emily,” he said, impatience lacing his tone. “How much is she selling the house for?”
I laughed then, which I knew would piss him off. “Selling her house? What kind of crack are you smoking?”
My mother would sooner sell one of us than sell that house. She and my dad lived in it their whole married life. Raised two kids there, multiple dogs, a couple of birds, and I think there was even a brief stint with a ferret. She didn't leave after my dad died in the living room, and if anything could have shoved her out, it would have been that.
Kevin's dark blue eyes glazed over at my comment. He held his hands up in front of him and shook his head as he turned. “Never mind. I forgot how crazy y'all are.”
“Whoa, whoa, wait,” I said, still laughing. “What are you babbling about?”
He took the steps two at a time, and waved a hand behind him. “Never mind, Em, I'll just call Dedra. Although why it's listed with her beats the shit out of me.”
I felt my smile start to fade and stick at the confusion point. Something was off. Something didn't make sense. Starting with him saying that sentence.
“Dedra?”
I said. “What are you talking about?” My tone combined with her name was enough to tweak his attention because it turned him around. His expression changed to wary and unsure.
“Your mom's house? Her name's on the sign.” He looked uncomfortable and pointed randomly at the air behind him as if to prove it. “I had nothing to do with it. I passed it this morning on my way out.”
Another leftover piece of a laugh kind of popped out, but with much less confidence. I shook my head as I turned and walked away, knowing he'd follow me in.
“That's crazy,” I said. “Has to be a joke or something. I just had lunch with my mom last week. I mean, come on. Don't you think she'd have mentioned that? She talked about her garden.”
I landed back on the squeaky swivel chair in my office as Kevin found a spot on the couch among scattered manila folders. He moved a few aside, turning one over to read the name.
“Eight-twenty-nine Montgomeryâwhy does that sound familiar?” he asked.
“It's one street over from my mom's,” I said, clicking through the links that would bring me to the multiple listing database. “And quit snooping, it's not listed yet.”
“Oh, yeah. The Landry place,” he said, and I ignored the snide change of tone.
“Yep.”
“Bobby's finally unloading it, huh?”
I blinked and sighed and continued to ignore the shiny object he was dangling to get a rise out of me. “Guess so.”
“About time,” Kevin continued. “It's been one strong breeze away from blowing over for years.”
“Oh, it's not that bad,” I said, scoffing. “Just needs a little attention. Vacant houses get that way.”
“Well, I don't blame him,” he said. “Ben left him high and dry with that place when their mom died. Never even came back for the funeral.”
The old dig that used to stab me barely felt like a pinprick. “You don't know that.”
“And you do?”
I cut my eyes at him. “This town can make a lot of noise when it wants to. You believe everything you hear?”
Kevin tossed the file over with the others, and I was grateful for the change. I watched him take in the overflowing bookshelf, the three different-colored jackets hanging on the treadmill, the row of file boxes stacked against one wall.
“I assume there's a method, as usual?” he asked.
“Ha-ha, very cute.”
In our eleven years of marriage, he never learned to appreciate my version of décor or organization. Kevin preferred empty space. Like moving-into-a-house-with-no-stuff kind of empty. No pictures, no decorations, no curtains, no coasters or vases or magazines. Give him a chair and a rug and a TV and he's good. In fact, the rug would probably be pushing it.
“So, dating anybody?” he asked.
I hit a button and gave him a look. “Really?”
His face went all innocent. “What?”
Kevin was a very good-looking man, as long as you never had to have a real conversation with him, or a life. The pretty wore thin with the constant perfection and micromanaging.
“You really want to know about my love life?”
He looked away with a smile. “I want you to be happy, Em.”
I coughed again, this time for real. “So, what's the deal?” I asked, changing the subject as I waited for the zip code filter to update. “You looking to move again? Sherry want to simplify and rub elbows with the common folk?”
He gave me a look and leaned back, his brown leather jacket making noise against the wanna-be leather of my couch. “I'm thinking about buying some rental property.”
“Ah, you want to be a land baron, now.”
“It's easy money,” he said with a shrug.
“Not with old houses likeâ”
My words died on my tongue as the page populated, and there it was. Three listings down. A familiar address and equally familiar picture of my mother's house. Listed by Dedra Powers.
“You've gotta be shitting me,” I said under my breath, and I heard Kevin and his jacket sit forward.
“So, how much is it listed for?”
I tore my eyes from the screen to glare at him. “Seriously?”
He lifted a hand. “What?”
I swiveled around in my chair to find my phone and leapt up to grab it off the top of my treadmill, hitting speed dial number two. Three rings led to voice mail, and my mother's voice telling me how sorry she was that she couldn't answer my call.
“Mom!” I yelled, then bit my lip and let my mouth work for a second. “Mom?” I tried again. “Please call me.”
I hung up and stared at the listing again as I hit speed dial numbers one and three, both of which went to voice mail as well. “Jesus, where is everybody today?” I muttered as I tossed the phone to the couch next to Kevin and smiled not-so-patiently at him.
“I've gotta go change clothes andâinterrogate my mother,” I said. “Soâ” I did a little hand flourish that I felt encouraged his exit.
“You didn't know.”
“That's pretty clear,” I said, not enjoying his smirk.
He stood up and leaned over to view the page on my laptop, which I then flipped closed.
“Ninety thousand,” he said, narrowing his eyes in that financial thinker's expression of his, and I shook my head before another second could pass.
“No.”
He blinked and met my eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, no,” I said. “I don't know what's going on with this, but regardless, you aren't buying it.”
“Why not?”
My head was spinning. I wanted answers and I wanted Kevin to be gone so I could go find them.
“Because.” He tilted his head again, and I made a sound of disgust. “God, you look like such a girl when you do that. Stop it.”
“You aren't answering my question.”
“And I'm not going to right now,” I said, taking him by the arm and walking. “Come on. I have to leave. I have to get naked first. And unless Sherry-bom-berry is okay with that, you probably shouldn't be here when I do.”
We made it to the door and I pushed him gently out. Just as he turned back around. “Oh, I almost forgot. Do you know if Cassidy sent in any of those business school applications yet?”
I sighed as I slowly guided the door closed. “She's twenty-one, Kevin. She's across town and doesn't run her day by me anymore. Call her.”
“I have, and she doesn't call me back.”
Shocking. “Gotta go.”
â¢Â   â¢Â   â¢
I
FELT A DULL HEADACHE FORMING BEHIND MY EYES AS
I
rounded the block to a house I could find blindfolded and drunkânot that I knew thatâand saw my sister's car snuggled right up behind my mom's. My gaze went from there to the
FOR SALE
sign looming gaudily on one side of the sidewalk and instantly went hot over the prospect that my sister, Holly, was in on it. Of course she would be. First to arrive, last to leave, always doing the right thing, always there for my mom, always the suck-up.
FOR SALE
. By Realtor Dedra Powers.
I pulled up alongside the ditch and took a series of cleansing breaths on my way up the uneven sidewalk and concrete porch.
I will not raise my voice . . . I will not raise my voice . . .
I'd called my daughter for backup, but I wasn't sure how fast she would get there. She kind of laughed when I told her that Nana had lost her mind. I don't think she truly got the urgency of the situation.
When I opened the heavy wooden door with the fifteen-pound metal door knocker, the knocker bounced loudly like it always did with the momentum, announcing door movement to the entire neighborhood. It announced it to Tandy, as well. The ancient dachshund with a smoker's bark and a long-lost sense of smell came in a blaze of glory, ready to take out my shins until she saw it was me and backtracked to her beanbag chair, uninterested.
I steeled myself for the confrontation when I saw my mom and sister sitting at the elongated bar that served as the dining room table, but faltered a little when they looked my way and I saw the anxiety in my sister's eyes.
My volatile words kind of died on my lips and came out instead as, “So, this is new.”
My mom sighed, and my sister just shook her head. Suddenly, I had the impression maybe they hadn't been in on it together. Holly had that fired-up look going that her red hair just amplified.
“You didn't know, either, I take it?” Holly asked.
I smiled. “No, I just found out from my ex.”
“Oh, shit,” Holly said under her breath.
I zeroed in on Mom. “Yeah. Care to know how wrong that conversation was?”
“Sorry, girls, it was just easier to make this decision without the two of you breathing down my neck,” my mother said.
My mouth dropped open. I had no words.
“Mom, this isn't like deciding to sell baskets instead of candles,” Holly said, holding back her hair like she always did when she was upset. “This is your home.”
“Exactly,” my mother said, rising from her stool. “My home. My decision.”
“Why?” I asked, watching her go through the motions of rinsing out her coffee cup and setting it back next to what was probably the first Mr. Coffee coffeemaker ever made. I remembered when my dad bought it for her and she balked and made a fuss, claiming that coffee percolated on the stove was a hundred times better.
“Why not?” she said, her back to us. “Maybe I'm tired of dealing with this old house, ever think of that?”
“This old house raised your family,” I said, suddenly feeling weirdly defensive of buckled paneling and ancient shag carpet.
“All your memories, your lifeâ” Holly began.
“The plumbing, the settling, the cracks, the piers that are crumbling under my room, the wiring that's held together with duct tape,” she countered. “Who's here to deal with all that? You?” she said to me and then looked at Holly. “You?”
My phone rang from my pocket, and I dug it out. It was a text from a client, wanting to reschedule their walk-through until the maid came. Jesus.
“I've told you, Greg can helpâ” Holly said, but Mom cut her off.
“Oh, please,” she said, flipping a hand. “Greg would spend more time analyzing a nail than pounding it. That man's too soft for real work.”
I bit my lip as Holly's face went scarlet. She laughed sarcastically as she got up and carried her glass of tea with her to the den, which was really just an extension of the kitchen.
“Wow, Mom, don't hold back.”
“And by the way,” Mom said, turning her attention to me. I suddenly had a flash to when I hid my fifth-grade report card and received a similar expression. I tucked my phone back into my pocket. “
This old house
didn't raise anybody. The people paying the mortgage did.”
“Okay then,” I said, wanting to get back to the real topic at hand. “Why the big secret? Why suddenly sneak this out there without even telling us?”
I noticed then as I waved a hand around that things were already different. Holly had stopped to look in a box that sat on the ottoman in front of Mom's chair, and I saw for the first time that the wall of family pictures wasâjust a wall. I joined her as she fingered through the frames gently, as if touching them wasn't allowed.