SUNSETS ON CATFISH BAR
Book 1 in the Pendulum trilogy
The Pendulum Trilogy: When life gives you second chances
"Emotionally complex and deeply involving, this is the story of a woman dealing with impossible challenges—and finding grace and humanity in the journey." —SUSAN WIGGS, #1 New York Times Bestselling Author
Liz Tanner has spent her life escaping her traumatic childhood and trying to forget David Carruthers, the first boy she’d ever loved. After learning that her dad is dying, she returns to Wisconsin, planning to spend the summer at her family’s house on the St. Croix River and, at long last, to confront her old demons. As she takes a hiatus from her troubled marriage and unsatisfying career, she realizes that coming home might give her one last shot at happiness.
Or it might destroy her.
After nearly twenty years away, Liz discovers that the old demons are still alive and well. But her young daughter blossoms in the sun and water, and Liz throws herself into repairs—to the summer house and to her spirit. Maybe here, in this place that holds so many memories, both good and bad, she will truly find a home.
Sunsets on Catfish Bar is available in print and ebook on Amazon, Apple iBooks, Nook, Kobo, and more.
An Excerpt from SUNSETS ON CATFISH BAR
Swans and fairies twirled and leaped across the stage in frenetic glee, spinning and turning and—
Damn. Liz Tanner cringed when Jenna nailed another dancer, her third so far, and the other little girl skidded on her butt, landing against a fake tree. Miss Sam came running out, a horrified smile frozen on her face, and scooped up the sobbing girl. Jenna, utterly oblivious, continued to twirl. The other five-year-olds now kept their distance, leaving Jenna to dance an impromptu solo.
The spring recital program called it Swan Lake, but it looked more like the dance of a lethal sugarplum fairy.
Biting back an embarrassed grin, Liz resisted the urge to slink down in her seat. Jenna had improved since her first dance recital last December, when she’d frozen in place, sucking her index finger for the entire routine. But the other parents might not agree.
Paul wasn’t here to agree or not. Liz checked her watch, then glanced back at the doors for at least the fortieth time this afternoon. The woman behind her nodded at the empty seat next to Liz and smiled sympathetically.
A flush crept up her cheeks, but Liz didn’t need sympathy. She needed Paul. No, Jenna needed Paul. He’d promised a dozen times that he wouldn’t miss the recital, or forget it, or come up with yet another excuse. Mr. Hotshot Junior Partner at Brennan & Locke, the third-largest law firm in Washington, D.C., had a lot of them.
And he’d blown it. Again.
As she turned back to watch the finale, a sudden pain stabbed her. She pressed a hand against her stomach, feeling the ugly raised scar from the last surgery. She still had one ovary, as if it mattered. As if a baby could save her marriage.
Wild applause, whistles, and bright lights brought her focus back to the stage just in time to see the class bow and file off the stage—except for Jenna, who tumbled forward into the front row, landing in Liz’s lap and slamming against her stomach.
Oof. Liz sucked in a breath at the shooting pain. Another breath, this time slow and calm. A tiny “Mom?” from Jenna, who jiggled in Liz’s arms as her short white-blond hair sprang out at odd angles. “Where’s Daddy?”
“Um, still at work?” Biting her lip, Liz tilted Jenna’s trembling chin upward and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Hey, you were fantastic, sweetie.” The woman behind Liz snorted. Liz whispered in Jenna’s ear. “The best one out there.”
“I hit Virginia.” And two others, but who was counting? Jenna looked past Liz, scanning the audience. “Maybe Daddy’s in the back. He said he’d come, ’cause it’s Sunday and I was dancing and he—he promised.”
A tear formed at the corner of Jenna’s eye, and Liz touched her thumb to it before it could trickle down her cheek.
“I guess he got busy.”
How could she explain Paul to a five-year-old when, at thirty-seven and after eleven years of marriage, Liz didn’t understand him? Her brain churned, trying to offer excuses. Finding none, she shook her head and hugged Jenna.
After a quick trip backstage to pick up Jenna’s dance bag and whisper an apology to Jenna’s teacher, they headed out into the bright sunshine of the May afternoon, hand in hand, walking up Connecticut Avenue toward the zoo. A little girl who’d survived her recital and whose father was missing in action deserved a reward.