Ruth accepted the little dog, who fit neatly in the crook of her arm. She held the pup close, afraid she might drop her. Whiskey looked up at her and licked her chin. “I think she likes me.”

“I think she does,” Carlotta said.

“I’ll take good care of her,” Ruth promised.

“I know you will.”

“Girls, take care of the dog and deliver her to Carlotta,” Mama said. “We have an army of guests showing up soon.”

“Yes, Mama.” Any thoughts of a ride abandoned, Ruth and Talley hurried off, each cooing over the dog as if it were a child.

“Have you ever seen a woman so glamorous?” Talley asked Ruth.

“We’ve had some fancy folks here, but nothing like her,” Ruth admitted. “I’ve never seen hair that blonde.”

“And did you see her nails? They were painted bright red.” Talley looked at her own nails, cut short with rough cuticles. “I swear I’ll stop chewing my nails if my mama will let me paint mine red.”

Ruth cradled the dog closer, inhaling the hints of Carlotta’s perfume as she ran her finger over the rhinestone-studded collar.

“Are the summers always this exciting?” Talley asked as they entered the kitchen.

“Never. Same old people, year after year.” She grinned as they crossed to the clean stack of dishes.

Talley took a bowl, filled it with cool water, and carefully set it down. “If Carlotta is ‘same old,’ it’s going to be interesting.”

When Ruth set Whiskey down, the dog sniffed the water and then lapped it up. “This isn’t going to be like all the other summers.”

And it wouldn’t be.

CHAPTER FIVE

IVY

Tuesday, January 18, 2022, 3:00 p.m.

Ivy had filled her eighth garbage bag, but she had only made a dent in Ruth’s downstairs bedroom closet. The woman had a secret weakness for sensible shoes, fanny packs, and sweaters, and Ivy was fairly certain her grandmother hadn’t thrown out anything since the 1960s. She dragged each bag down the cottage’s wooden stairs, thumping her way one step at a time toward her van, which was already full. She pushed and shoved the last bag in the front passenger seat next to the boxes of stoneware dishes.

As she slammed the door closed, the sound of a large truck downshifting turned her attention to the main road. The truck was a flatbed with a construction dumpster. She watched as it stopped at her house and then backed into the spot next to her car.

She strolled to the window, surprised to see Dalton behind the wheel. “Are you sure I’ll need one this big?”

“Better safe than sorry.” He put the truck in park and pressed a button, and the bed tipped slowly.

Ivy stepped back. “It’s the perfect welcome gift.”

He watched in the side mirror as the dumpster slowly lowered to the concrete driveway. “You didn’t strike me as the flowers type.”

That coaxed a smile. “I wouldn’t go that far. But this morning, that dumpster really makes me go weak in the knees.”