long-sleeved shirt and almost shouted when his socks matched.
“Good morning.” Jolene poked her head out from her bedroom as he was headed toward the kitchen. “You can have that bathroom if you want it. I’ve got my things strung out in the ladies’ room upstairs. It’s got a tub and a lot more room. There’s a basket for your dirty clothes in the utility room.”
“Thanks,” he grumbled. “I’m not much of a morning person, but I do like a cup of strong, hot coffee.”
“Me, either, so we should get along just fine,” she said.
Tucker went through the dining room and kitchen and into the utility room, where two big front-load washers and dryers were located. At least Sugar and Jasper had kept up with the best in that area. He tossed his dirty things into the empty red basket and noticed that the white one beside it was almost full.
Jolene held a cup of coffee out toward him as he entered the kitchen. “So what’s on our agenda after breakfast?”
“Let’s move the furniture out of the bedroom we measured last night—” he started.
“And tear up that old carpet?”
He took a couple of sips of the coffee. “That’s right. What’s for breakfast?”
“You said a light breakfast. I’m used to a bowl of cereal, the kid kind that’s got lots of sugar,” she answered. “When we have guests, I’ll serve them the whole big thing, but I’ll probably still just have junk. For us, though, dinner is served at noon and supper in the evening here at the inn.”
“That’s fine.”
“And we eat leftovers,” she said.
He nodded and topped off his cup with more coffee. “I don’t mind leftovers, but quittin’ time is five o’clock. I work from eight to noon, take an hour off, and quit at five. Saturdays I stop at noon, and I don’t work on Sunday.”
“I can live with that, since you’re the one with the money,” she said as she set two boxes of cereal on the table.
“So what’s your story, Jolene? Boyfriend on the side? Ex-husband?”
“You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine. You first,” she answered.
“I was married. I’m not now because she died in a car accident. And that’s all the showing I’m doing right now.” He went to the refrigerator and got out the milk.
“No boyfriend at the present or ex-husband in the past, and that’s the extent of my show-and-tell, too.”
Chapter Five
Mobile, Alabama
Darlin’, why don’t you go up to the RV store and get us a pint of ice cream?” Sugar asked as soon as they were parked in a really nice RV park that evening. Ice cream worked for her and the girls in a crisis, so just maybe it would help Jasper out of his depression.
She paced from the cabinets to the tiny bathroom and back again while the phone rang four times. She was ready to weep by the fifth ring. Just when she was expecting the call to go to voice mail, Jolene answered.
“Aunt Sugar!” she practically yelled. “I’m so glad to hear from you.”
“Oh, honey, I’ve wanted to talk to you so bad, but not with your uncle Jasper beside me. He took it hard when Reuben did what he did, putting his half up for sale. He’s still down in the dumps.”
“Poor Uncle Jasper. It’s a good thing it’s against the law to shoot folks. But . . .”
“Hold on. I hear him whistling. We’ll have to talk later. When he feels better, I’ll call; we’ll put it on speaker and have a good visit.”
“Okay, but y’all take care of each other and don’t worry. A wise lady told me once that things work out for the best even if we can’t see it at the time,” Jolene said.
“Love you.” Sugar had hung up and picked up a travel brochure by the time Jasper returned with ice cream.
“Rocky road.” He held it up and smiled for the first time all day. “It always makes things better.”
Sugar went to the cabinet and took out two spoons. “Yes, darlin’, it does. And the pain gets a little less achy every single day.”
He dipped into the carton. “I hope so. Let’s talk about our destination tomorrow. We’re not far from that place where we sprinkled Elaine and John’s ashes in the water. Want to visit there?”
“Yes,” Sugar said. “I’d love to. I loved that white sand.”
Jasper seemed a little better the next day. He wanted to walk barefoot in the sand and even suggested that they dip their feet