“And how so?” Babs took the tiniest bite of her sandwich.

“You can ask for what you want or you can ask for the truth. They are not always the same thing at all.”

“Well, tell me, then, how this rumor about your home started.”

Birdie settled back into her seat and glanced at Cotton and then back to Babs. “It wasn’t always my house, so really the legend has absolutely nothing to do with me and everything to do with the house and the bay. My great-grandmother owned the home. And here is how the story goes …” Birdie paused and then took a deep breath.

Babs pulled out a pad of paper. “Do you mind if I take notes?”

“Yes.” Birdie held up her hand. “I want you to really hear the story, not the facts. If you want the facts, we’ll go over them later. Right now, listen to the story.”

Babs tucked her notebook back into her bag. “Got it,” she said.

“In a time before I knew time, people came to this house for rest and parties, for socializing and respite. My great-grandmother, it is told, had a best friend from Atlanta who came to stay with her for a month. Her name was Mitzi Burroughs. During this time, Mitzi’s very well-sewn life fell apart at the seams. She met a woman here whom she became friends with, who she then discovered had been her husband’s mistress for years and years. During this time, she also found a talent for pottery, and while taking a class at the studio, she met a man with her maiden name and soon discovered that her wellbred aunt, royalty in the Atlanta environs, had once had a child she left with relatives in Alabama.”

“Wow,” Babs said, her feet now tucked under her bottom.

I settled back into the seat. “Then what happened?”

Birdie laughed. “She panicked. What else? She went back to Atlanta and told everyone she knew to never, ever come to the Summer House unless they wanted to have their life come undone. Every time she drank at a party, she talked of the Summer House until the stories began to grow as stories grow, turning into something mystical and dreamy.”

“What did she do with all that knowledge? Did she leave her husband? Confront her aunt? Start a pottery business?” Babs asked.

“No, those are all the things she could have done, but didn’t. Nothing. She did nothing. She went back to her life. And that’s the choice everyone has. They can wish for what they want in their life or they can face the truth, but sometimes you can’t have both.”

“Well, only one woman? How did this legend start with only one woman?” Babs asked.