Southern Lights: A Novel

Alexa had spoken to her mother the night before, while she was packing. Her mother had congratulated her profusely on the case. Stanley had called her too and done the same. He had slipped into the courtroom a couple of times to watch her, and said she had handled the prosecution brilliantly and with poise. She had never tried to turn it into a circus and had relied on facts and forensic evidence, which he thought was the way to go, and had won the case.

Sam had called that morning before she left for the airport and said he would miss her. He was based in Washington, D.C., normally and was going back, although he was in New York often and suggested they have lunch in the fall. Jack had called to congratulate her, as had Joe McCarthy the day before. There was an atmosphere of victory and celebration, and now she could bring her daughter home, which was even better. There had never been another letter. Quentin had hinted recently to one of the guards in jail that he had played a “little game” to scare Alexa, and Jack had told her about it. Quentin had been toying with her by having a friend drop off the letters to Savannah. Quentin thought it was funny, and it had made Alexa even more pleased with her decision to send Savannah away. The letters had stopped as soon as his friend reported Savannah gone, and Quentin lost interest in the “game.” It hadn’t been a game to Alexa. It had been pure terror, worrying about Savannah and the letters.

And Alexa was willing to concede that the time in Charleston may have done Savannah good. It had established a real bond with her father, which meant a lot to her, even if it had angered his wife. And Alexa’s mother reminded her again that it was nice for Savannah to know something about her father’s family too, and to meet a grandmother who was very old and wouldn’t be around forever. The timing had been right, and it had been a blessing for them all. Even for Alexa, she had put old ghosts to rest, and was no longer as bitter as she had been for so long. When she looked at Tom now, she saw a weak man who had paid a high price for his betrayal of her. She didn’t see a man she loved, or even hated. She felt freer than she had in years.

Savannah was waiting for her when she got off the plane, and they hugged each other and held tight. Savannah drove her to the hotel in the little car her father had loaned her, and she went back to school, and promised to come back later.

Tom called her while she was unpacking, and congratulated her too. He had seen her on television the night before when she left the courthouse, and as always, had been impressed by how humble she was when she said justice had been served and let it go at that. She wanted no glory, just the conviction, and she had done it.

“You must be exhausted,” he said sympathetically, and she admitted she was.

“But it was worth it, for the conviction.”

“Are you staying for Savannah’s graduation next week?” he asked hopefully.

“No, I have to get back. I only have a week off, and I’ll be at the one in New York.” She was still grateful to him for keeping Savannah for four months. It had worked out perfectly for her too, and gave her the time she needed to prepare for the trial without worrying about Savannah.

“I’m going to be very sad when she leaves,” he admitted to her. “And so will Daisy. I hope you’re planning to come down at the end of June for Travis’s wedding.” She didn’t know if he was being honest or polite and just southern. It was hard to tell.

“It was sweet of them to ask me, but I think it would be awkward for your wife.” He was disappointed when she said it. He had hoped she’d be there.

“With eight hundred guests, you could bring a bear in a hula skirt and no one would notice.”

“But maybe not an ex-wife,” she said honestly. “I’m sure Luisa doesn’t want me.” This was her turf, not Alexa’s. She was respectful of that, although Luisa hadn’t been of hers.

“It’s not up to Luisa, it’s up to Travis and Scarlette. And I know they’d like you to come. Savannah wants to come down too.”

“She can do that if she wants to. I’ll talk to her about it. She’s a big girl, she could come alone.”

“I hope you come, Alexa,” he said softly, and she ignored it. The softness in his voice was too familiar and bittersweet, and much too late.

“We’ll see,” she said noncommittally, which they both knew meant no.

“I’ll see you sometime this week, before you go.”

“I’m just going to take it easy and spend time with Savannah, and get over the trial. I’m beat,” she said honestly, and she sounded it, but happy too.