Harper called out from the door. “I see a whole van load of folks parkin’ out in the lot, so I hurried back over. We ready for the lunch run?”

“Hot rolls comin’ out of the oven in five minutes,” he yelled. “Rest of it is ready to serve.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Sunday morning ushered in a quick shower, but the sun came out in the afternoon, bringing humidity and heat with it. The people at the edge of the lake didn’t seem to mind the wet grass one bit if they could start on their summer tan. Folks came in and out of the store all afternoon for cold drinks, beer, and snacks.

Tawny brought over her lunch about one o’clock and grabbed a candy bar and a Pepsi before going to the laundry. Dana had just finished eating when Zed pushed his way through the curtain hanging over the door from his little apartment into the store.

“Got gravy all over my shirtsleeve, so I had to get it changed. Thought I’d get a cup of hot chocolate and visit with you since things are slowin’ down and Harper can run the café without me for a little while.” Zed laid a tote bag on the counter, went to the machine, and hit the right button to shoot steaming hot chocolate into a to-go cup. “Put this on my bill.”

“Not happenin’. You aren’t payin’ for anything in this place,” Dana told him with a shake of her head. “Come on back here behind the counter and sit on this stool. I remember this bag. Granny used to keep a photo album in it. I remember seeing pictures of her and Grandpa and you when y’all were kids.”

“And lots of your daddy and then even more of you kids. She got a better camera when you were born and we put at least one roll of pictures in that book every summer after y’all left. She liked real pictures as she called them, never did go digital.”

“Can I look at it?”

“Any time you want to. It’s yours as of this day. You probably know how to go about gettin’ copies made if your sisters want some of them, but I want you to have it. Annie would have wanted that, too, so I don’t want no argument,” he said.

“None given.” She slipped the thick album from the worn black velvet bag and opened the first page. There was one picture of three little kids standing in front of a big tree.

Zed ran his forefinger down Annie’s cheek. “That tree was out there in the middle of the lake. We used to lean up against it to count off the numbers when we was playin’ hide-and-seek.”

“Granny told me that story. Her daddy came to get her to go in for supper. He’d been takin’ pictures of a dog that he’d just gotten and had his camera with him. She refused to go until he snapped a photo for her book. She said that she didn’t even have a book at the time. That started when he got the pictures back.”

Dana flipped through the pages and watched herself and her sisters grow up before her eyes. Later, she’d sit down with the book and let the memories of each summer wash over her, but right then she was too glad just to know that the album was still there.

“Not much in the way of new pictures in the last ten years,” Zed said. “A few of Brook and only a couple of Harper and Tawny, but you take it on.” He finished the last of his chocolate and slid off the stool. “Me and Annie had us some good times with the happy memories in that book.”

She rounded the end of the counter and hugged him. “Uncle Zed, this means the world to me. I will take care of it and tell Brook and my grandkids all the stories I can remember about the pictures.”

“That’s exactly what I want you to do,” he said.

“And thank you for giving Brook that comb. It is as precious as a gold mine to her.” She hugged him again. “You’ve been better than a grandfather to her and to me both and someday I hope you do walk her down the aisle.”

“Can’t you just see that? An old black man and that pretty child all decked out in white satin?”

Dana kept an arm around his shoulders. “What I see is a grandpa and a gorgeous bride. Both of them have beautiful hearts and souls.”

“You got on rose-colored glasses, girl,” Zed chuckled as he left by the front door.

Turning back to the first page in the book, Dana studied the picture of her grandmother, her grandfather, and Zed when they were little kids. Funny, as many times as she’d seen that picture, she’d never noticed that Annie was holding Zed’s hand until that moment.

Summer was pushing spring into the history books. Proof was in the fact that there wasn’t even a slight breeze that Sunday evening when Nick showed up on Tawny’s porch. She’d dressed in a cute little floral sundress that left her shoulders bare, and she’d planned on taking a light sweater with her in case it got chilly.

“You look like an angel,” he whispered as he handed her a bouquet of wildflowers tied with a pretty yellow ribbon.

“They’re beautiful. Come on in while I put them in a glass of water.” She motioned him inside.

He stepped into the room and removed his cap. Her eyes traveled from the soft dark hair showing in the V where two pearl snaps of his shirt were undone down to his slim waist and stopped there. His silver belt buckle was embossed with a Native American on a horse. When she realized that she’d been looking at it far too long, she blinked and looked up to find him smiling.

“End of the trail. That’s what’s on the buckle.”