Read Isle of Hope for Free Online Page B

these especially for you, you little brat.” Nicki sauntered over with the plate of cookies and a pursed smile. She plopped them on the clear end of the table with a thud and patted a chair, chin pointed at Lacey. “Sit. I have exactly fifteen minutes till I have to drive Spencer to his first baseball practice before clocking in for my shift, so I want the Reader’s Digest version of a Cliff Note update, please.”
    Lacey’s smile took a slant. Easy.
    Saved by faith.
    Dumped by fiancé.
    Strong-armed by God.
    She inhaled deeply, the sweet smell of cinnamon and sugar filling her senses like God’s love had filled her heart. Where to begin? How to tell them that she hadn’t lost a fiancé, but gained a life? That the old Lacey with the salty tongue and sexy ways had traded in profanity for purity, and sex for sanctity? She stalled by rifling through the cookies, nudging past the darker ones burned to a crisp like Nicki preferred to inspect the lighter ones she favored. Extra cinnamon crackles on pale-yellow dough, slightly underdone. Night and day. Her smile went wry. Just like her life now that God had intervened. She scrunched her nose as she flicked a particularly dark cookie aside. “Uh, not exactly sure where to begin …”
    “Excuse me, young lady, are you going to finger every cookie on that plate?” Mamaw clunked three blue ceramic saucers on the table with a familiar scold that sparkled with tease. “Are your hands clean, I hope, or will I have to make you eat each cookie you mauled?”
    Lacey laughed, jumping up to wash her hands at the sink. “Nope, sorry. The pump at the BP leaked, so they’re pretty grimy, I’m afraid.” As my life used to be. The thought poured peace through her body like the tap water into the sink.
    Nicki leaned a hip to the counter and gave the Keurig caddy a spin. “So what’s your pleasure? We have cinnamon roll, macadamia nut cookie, hazelnut, and crème brulee.”
    “Oooo—macadamia nut cookie, please,” Lacey said. She retrieved Half & Half from the fridge and hurried back to the table where Mamaw was admiring Spencer’s burglar alarm.
    Circling Spencer from behind in a tight hug, Mamaw kissed his head. “Okay, mister—you need to head up and put your uniform on, all right?”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Spencer said, shooting Lacey a shy smile before removing his circuit box from the table, carefully placing the action figures safely inside. He roused Sherlock from the dead in the process, who shook a windstorm of floating hair before he followed him upstairs with a yawn.
    Lacey waited till she heard the squeak of the steps before turning to Mamaw. “How’s he doing?” she said quietly, her grandmother’s last letter about Spencer’s bout of depression still weighing on her mind.
    Mamaw sighed, the sound too heavy for such a tiny woman. “Better, I think, especially now that we signed him up for Little League.” She offered Nicki a smile as her granddaughter plunked two steaming cups of coffee on the table for her and Lacey. “I think he’s excited about the prospect of making new friends.”
    Nicki cut loose with a grunt as she settled into her chair with a cup of her own. “Or any friends at all,” she said with a sad crook of her mouth. “The poor little guy has had a pretty rough year.”
    “True,” Mamaw said, “but we’re hoping that will turn around, especially since this is not the parish league with all of his classmates.” A sigh feathered her lips. “I’m praying he can get a fresh start, maybe build some self-confidence before the next school year.” She took a sip of her coffee then set it aside, hands folded in her lap as she homed in on Lacey with laser precision. The sharp blue eyes that had missed nothing when Lacey was growing up now narrowed into serious grandma mode. “Spencer will be fine, I think, but what I want to know now, darling girl—will you?”
    “Sure she will,” Nicki said with a defiant thrust of her chin, eyes