Last Light over Carolina (13 page)

Carolina joined him at the window and looked out. They stood side by side for a few moments while the tension dissipated in the fresh air.

“I don’t smell mildew,” Bud said.

“You don’t think your socks smell after a few days on the boat, either,” Carolina chided.

He laughed, relieved by her humor. A peace settled between them. “No, really, it’s not bad.”

“It’s better than it was a few months ago, that’s for sure. But it’ll take a few weeks with the windows open to really air it out.” She sighed. “Thank God it’s spring.”

“I didn’t mean to be rude to your parents.”

“My father wants to give the money to help us. It might be a good idea. It would give us security for the future.”

“
I’m
your security.”

“I know.”

“They already put out a small fortune to fix up this house,” he argued. “Did you see the way they look at this place? It’s like they own it. They’re planning their vacations here!”

Carolina smirked. “I did notice that. They’re just excited, Bud. We all are. We’ll be lucky if they come down for a week in the summer and every other Christmas. I hope they do. We have plenty of room, and I miss them.”

“I don’t care about that. But this other. Caro, I can’t take a handout from your father.”

“It’s not a handout.”

“Okay, call it a loan. Either way, your father will lord it over me and Lee will lord it over me, making me feel small. The bad blood would spill over and come between us. You know I’m right.”

Carolina was silent.

“Look,” he said, his voice conciliatory, “I love you. I want to take care of you. Provide for you and Lizzy. But I can’t take your father’s money.”

“Are you sure my father’s the only reason you won’t take it?”

Bud tilted his head, not understanding what she meant.

“Is it because the company is being bought by Lee?”

There had always been a deep-rooted rivalry between Bud
Morrison and Lee Edwards. Though they were best friends coming up, they’d battled over everything. Oz still joked about how they were always arguing as boys over who ran the fastest, who could catch the biggest fish, who could pop the most shrimp heads. Truth was, Oz had encouraged the rivalry. He was never hesitant to push Bud, to test the mettle of his elder son.

As they grew older, the competition had become more subtle but even more pointed. Lee liked to needle Bud on how he’d gone to college and Bud hadn’t. Unlike the Morrisons, the Edwardses always had money, and Lee had a knack for making more.

Bud put his hands on his hips and considered that. “Honestly, maybe a little. Look, Carolina, this might be a good investment. But we don’t have the money. We’re in hock up to our necks with repairs to this house and the
Miss Carolina
. And this house, as much as you love it, is going to cost us. Then there’s Lizzy’s school tuition. Yeah, yeah,” he said, holding up his hand and stopping Carolina from interrupting him. “I know your parents are helping with her tuition. That’s another handout I have to deal with.” He moved his hands to her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Carolina, I don’t want to go into business with Lee. I don’t want to go into debt to your father. We can take care of ourselves, you and me. Like we always have. Look what we just got through! The hurricane of the century clobbered us, and we’re standing here on our feet. My boat’s back in the water. I’m making a good living. When we
got married, I told you what I’ve got is what I am. That’s still true today. I hope that’s enough for you.”

Carolina moved closer and rested her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her.

“Isn’t nature resilient?” she said, looking out. “Six months ago, this street looked like a bomb hit it. Now look at it. The grass is green and there’s even some moss back in that live oak tree. I thought we’d lost those gardenias, but they’re coming back. And soon, so will the hydrangeas.” She closed her eyes and sniffed. “I can smell the gardenias. My favorite.”

Bud brought his cheek to her neck. “This’s
my
favorite smell.”

She leaned back into his arms to look him in the face. “We’ll be happy here, won’t we?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

She put her head back on his shoulder with a sigh. “No reason.”

Bud knew she was worried about the future and money, and he wished he could promise her the moon and more.

“Don’t worry, Carolina. We’re going to be okay.”

September 21, 2008

On board the
Miss Carolina

The family had survived, Bud thought as the boat beneath him rose and fell with the waves. They’d survived a lot of ups
and downs over the years. They’d survive this accident, too. He’d promised Carolina he’d take care of her, and that was a promise he intended to keep.

Carolina’s parents had come through for them after Hugo. That’s what families did. His own family had always taken care of their own, too. He remembered back to when he was very young and sat in the big kitchen of his grandmother’s house. Grandma Ellen had had seven children and regularly cooked for fifteen to twenty people. To step into her kitchen was to enter a world of women cooking cornbread, fried chicken, turkey, pork chops, and some kind of fresh fish brought in from the boat. And there was always a pot of hot coffee on the stove. Folks called it the house of milk and honey. At Grandma Ellen’s table, there was talk of everything from the price of shrimp and the condition of boats to the antics of their beloved children and grandchildren. The Lord’s name was never taken in vain at her table, nor was cussing permitted. Children were welcome but dared not be rude, lest a wooden spoon suddenly appear to slap their hands.

There were always working men ambling in from the docks or the shed in back where improvised repairs on engines and machinery were made by his grandfather, a kind of MacGyver of the docks. These were the men who worked for the Morrison family. Some did well; others didn’t earn enough to support themselves, much less a family. Those few would sleep in a bunkhouse above the shed during the season. If they didn’t make it in shrimping, they’d leave. When Bud was growing up, it had seemed everyone in the extended family worked for
his grandfather, and later his father, at some time—men like Pee Dee just looking for a second chance. Every able-bodied Morrison fished—shrimp, oysters, clams, crabs. His grandparents had passed on the tradition of looking out for family and friends to his parents, and they’d passed it on to him.

The seasons flowed one into the next like the creek outside their home. White roe shrimp in the spring, brown shrimp in the summer, then the white shrimp that hatched in the spring came back again in the fall. Life was good. In his mind, Bud could hear the women’s voices from the shrimp house as they sang spirituals and headed shrimp.

He felt himself drifting off with the music. His grandparents, his mother, Bobby, they were all gone. Yet they seemed to be just beyond the clouds. He sensed they were waiting for him. There was so much love. He felt a white light of their love around him.

September 21, 2008, 12:45 p.m.

Rutledge Academy, McClellanville

R
utledge Academy was
a small, sprawling school set back from a country road amid a cluster of old oaks. There were only a few cars in the lot; many of the faculty had gone to lunch in town. Carolina spotted Lizzy’s green VW bug and pulled up beside her, lifting her hand in a quick wave. As she turned off the ignition she saw Lizzy’s car door open, then the familiar red-gold hair emerge. It caught the wind as Lizzy stepped out of her old car. Her hand darted up to tuck it behind her ears as she came around to meet Carolina.

“Hey! You made it,” she said when Carolina swung open the car door.

“Breaking speed limits all the way.” Carolina reached to the passenger side to grab the large, flat Tupperware container that held two dozen cupcakes. She hoisted it over the steering wheel, then handed it with care to her waiting daughter.

“Thanks, Mama. Will really appreciates this. His class is staying after school to practice for the play and these will tide them over.”

“Happy to do it. When’s the play?”

“October seventh,” Lizzy said in a tone that implied she’d told her mother this many times before.

“Hey, be nice to your mama. I’ve got a lot on my mind. I’ll be there. Don’t worry.”

“Will Daddy be here?”

Carolina paused, not wanting to get into this well-worn argument again. “Well, honey,” she said, hedging. “You know how it is with his work. If he gets back in time, he will.”

Lizzy’s eyes flashed. “Mama, this is Will’s first time in a lead role! He’ll be so disappointed if Daddy doesn’t show. Can’t he skip working for one night? It’s only one night.”

Carolina cringed, reliving a moment that had occurred years before, when Lizzy was Will’s age. And again when she was ten, and fifteen.

“Don’t get mad at me,” she said. “This is nothing new. You know how your father is.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lizzy said, but her tone implied anything but
understanding. Her face clouded, and she said, “You know, it’s one thing for him to not show up to
my
programs when I was a kid. But this is for Will. His grandson. You’d think it would mean more to him. He’ll never change. You can tell him for me that I’m pissed off.”

Carolina didn’t want to get between the two again. “Tell him yourself. I’ve told him plenty of times.”

Lizzy shook her head with frustration. “I don’t know why I even bother to ask.”

“I’ll be there,” Carolina said as an offering.

“I know you will.” Temporarily mollified, Lizzy leaned over and kissed her mother’s cheek. “You always are.” She hoisted the container of cupcakes in her arms. “I better go. Thanks again, Mama.”

“You sure you don’t need help with those?”

“I’m a waitress, remember? We’re one-armed wonders. See you later.”

Carolina held the doorframe of her sedan and watched her daughter sail through the door, balancing the cupcakes like the pro she was. The heavy metal door closed behind her with a loud click. It seemed only yesterday that Carolina was the young mother orchestrating Lizzy’s schedule with her own work schedule. Then she laughed lightly at the vagaries of fate. As a grandmother-in-residence, she still did.

She climbed into the car but paused, resting her hands on the steering wheel. She’d long since stopped making excuses for Bud. He’d be out late, trying to make his day. She used to
ask him to change his schedule, back when Lizzy was young. But over the years, she’d just stopped asking.

That was about the same time he’d stopped listening.

October 14, 1993

Rutledge Academy

It was a big night for Lizzy. Carolina was proud that her daughter had a major role in the seventh-grade play. For weeks beforehand, she’d helped Lizzy practice her lines. At night, Carolina had spent hours on the sewing machine stitching up an early-American costume.

Carolina was sitting on one of the dozens of gray metal folding chairs that had been set up in the gym for the play. Parents scrambled for what they believed were the best seats for pictures—the front, the middle seats on the aisles. Most of the seats were filled and the buzz of conversation began to rise with excitement as the curtain time approached. Carolina chewed her lip and turned to search the back of the room for any sign of Bud. She had a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach that he wasn’t going to make it for the performance. She waved to a few friends who caught her eye, feeling a twinge of envy at seeing so many couples sitting together, excited to see their child onstage. She turned back to face the front and checked her watch.

“Bud’s not coming?”

Carolina turned toward the voice. Sitting at her right was Sally, the mother of a sweet boy both Lizzy and Tressy had a crush on. Carolina shrugged.

“I hope he makes it. Lizzy has a lead part,” Sally said. “The play starts in five minutes.”

Carolina put a smile on her face. She knew exactly how many minutes were left before curtain. She was relieved when Sally went back to her conversation with her husband.

Carolina’s gaze swept the room as she tapped her foot. From the corner of her eye she caught a commotion from the stage. Looking over, she saw three girls peeking out from behind the curtain—Tressy, Zoe, and Lizzy—all in costume. Lizzy’s hair was pulled up on top of her head in a kind of bun to make her look older, and her blue eyes were accentuated with matching makeup. They shone like searchlights as she scanned the seats. Her face blossomed into an excited smile at spotting her mother. Carolina saw her eyes move to the empty chair. Lizzy looked again at Carolina with a question in her eyes. Carolina could only shrug and mouth,
Sorry
. Her own heart broke as she saw her daughter’s smile fall and the curtain close.

Damn you, Bud, she thought. While making his breakfast that morning, she’d told him how important it was to Lizzy that he be there tonight. “Please, don’t forget,” she’d begged. Before he left, he kissed her cheek and told her he’d try. “Try hard!” she’d called to his back.

He obviously wasn’t going to show. She knew Bud worked hard for them and that this was an important end-of-season
push. But he had his priorities screwed up if he couldn’t find the time—just once—to come to his daughter’s play. She was so mad at him at that moment she could hardly think clearly. She released the chair she’d reserved for him, taking her purse from the seat.

A moment later, she heard a familiar voice. “Is this seat taken or can any late father have it?”

She swung around to see Lee Edwards standing in the aisle, his hand on the back of the empty chair. “Lee! Hey, nice to see you. Go ahead and take it.” She bent to move her purse under her chair.

“You sure Bud’s not coming?”

“I wouldn’t bet on it. One guess…”

“Still out?”

She nodded.

Lee slipped out of his brown suede jacket and folded it over his arm before taking his seat. It wasn’t a showy jacket, but the suede was creamy smooth and expensive.

Lee was more than an old friend, he was now her boss. Carolina had gone to work for Coastal Seafood after Hugo. After a few years Carolina was running the office. She had a good head for numbers, but even more, she was familiar with the captains, their crews, and the world of shrimping. She knew to the pound how much fish each captain landed and to the dollar what he was paid for it. She recorded to the penny who owed how much to the company for fuel, ice, rope, cable, and other necessities. She became the gatekeeper or, as the men at the docks had taken to calling her behind her back, the ballbuster.

“It’s cold out there tonight,” Lee said. “He must be freezing his ass off.”

“I hope he is. Lizzy’s so disappointed he’s not here. And so am I. You alone, too?”

He adjusted his seat. “Yep.”

“Where’s your wife?”

He shook his head. “Melissa doesn’t see herself as the mother type. More the aunt for Tressy. Or the big sister. This kind of thing isn’t her style.”

“Uh-huh,” Carolina replied, holding her tongue but disliking the woman even more. Lee had married a wealthy socialite from Charlotte whom he’d met while showing her some coastal real estate. It was inconvenient that he was still married to Odelle when he and Melissa met. According to Odelle, Lee had dated this woman on the sly, still sleeping with Odelle while at the same time making plans to divorce her. It wasn’t a friendly divorce, and it made for awkwardness for months afterward while Bud and Carolina tried to reestablish their relationships with Odelle and Lee as separate people.

“Odelle’s here.”

“I know. She shot me a few arrows as I came in.”

“Yeah, well, as ye sow…”

“Don’t
you
get started on me,” he said, settling back and crossing one ankle over the other knee. Carolina noticed that his boots were made of fine brown leather. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Carolina nodded and felt another prick of anger at Bud. The room was full of fathers, many of them shrimpers, who’d found the time or just plain made the effort.

Lee leaned closer and said companionably, “I just got out of the office. You’ll never guess what happened.”

She looked over, curious. “What?”

“You know how Digger Davis came in earlier in the week to ask about credit?”

“Sure. I did all the paperwork.”

Digger Davis was having more trouble with his boat than a street dog had fleas. His winch needed repair, and on his last trip out his engine had blown and he had to be towed in. Digger worked hard, but everyone knew he drank hard, too.

“I told you, I don’t think he’s a good credit risk.”

“Well, I like ol’ Digger and I thought he needed a break.”

“Uh-huh,” she repeated, sensing where this story was headed. “So, what happened?”

“I got an urgent call from the bank. Apparently, ol’ Digger was trying to charge a pickup truck to my credit.”

Carolina’s eyes widened with surprise. “What?”

Lee’s lips twisted as he held back a laugh. “Yep. Hard to believe, huh? But wait.” He tapped her sleeve. “It gets better. When I talked to Digger on the phone to ask him to explain what the hell was going on, he said he didn’t think I’d mind. His truck broke down and he needed to get to work so he could repay the loan, and he thought it all made sense. Besides, he said it was an old, beat-up truck and he was getting it for real cheap.”

Carolina looked at Lee and held his gaze, dumbfounded. Then they both burst out laughing at the same time.

“Unbelievable,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes.

“Yeah. I gotta admit, that’s one for the books.”

“Speaking of the books, you didn’t lend him the money?” She had to ask. Lee could be generous to a fault with loans, and she wasn’t sure.

Lee looked at his boot and shook his head. “Couldn’t. Not this time. If word got out, I’d be more a bank than a fish house. I had to draw the line somewhere.”

Carolina worked close to Lee most every day. She’d discovered that he had offered a line of credit to most every captain at the dock. Doing the books, she knew, too, that virtually all of them owed Lee money. He made sure they got the ice, fuel, and gear they needed to keep afloat, and let them pay back what they could when they could. He didn’t want everyone to know about it, but in a small town, that kind of information couldn’t be secret.

Carolina had come to admire Lee Edwards. What kind of man gave so much of his time and wealth to his hometown? she’d often wondered. She thought him generous and loyal, even noble.

“Unfortunately,” Lee added, “there’s a pile of paperwork on your desk waiting for you.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“What would I do without you? You’re the best.”

“That’s what I hear.”

“No, really.” Lee’s voice lowered. “You really are the best. And don’t think I don’t know it. You’ll find a more tangible expression of my thanks in your paycheck.”

Carolina was surprised. “You didn’t have to. But I’m glad you did. Thanks.”

The principal of the school, Mrs. Granger, took the stage, and immediately the buzz of conversation died down.

Lee bent over and muttered under his breath, “Don’t get too excited. It’s not much of a raise.”

She returned a smile, then faced the stage. As the lights dimmed and the principal began her long-winded welcome to the parents, Carolina’s thoughts turned inward. In her heart, she knew she deserved that raise and it had been a long time in coming. She’d started working for Lee soon after he’d purchased the company. In the beginning it didn’t bother her to be just another employee. But as her responsibilities increased, Coastal Seafood became more successful.

Carolina practically ran the fish house, but she didn’t get any benefit of ownership. If only they’d taken Lee up on his offer to invest when he was buying it, she thought for the hundredth time. Sure, it had been a bad time. Hurricane Hugo had hit them hard. They were in debt for the boat’s repairs and they’d just taken possession of White Gables. But she knew it had been more than just a matter of money. It was Bud’s pride, too. Because of Bud’s pride, they had not accepted help from her father to invest in Coastal Seafood—and she’d ended up working for the company anyway. Bud didn’t seem to recognize that owning part of the company might have given Carolina some pride for her labor.

Lizzy appeared onstage, and Carolina’s troubled thoughts disappeared at her daughter’s first word of dialogue. The play told the story of the Revolutionary hero Francis Marion—the Swamp Fox—who had fought the British in the neighboring
forest that bore his name. At the play’s end, parents made a mad dash toward the stage as flashbulbs lit up the gymnasium.

Lee turned to Carolina, smiling. “Hey, Lizzy did you proud.”

“She did, didn’t she? And ditto for Tressy.”

“We’re lucky, you know?” he said, referring to their daughters. “Well, I better go.”

He bent to give Carolina a farewell hug, his arms around her shoulders in a friendly manner. But Carolina thought he held on a fraction of a second too long.

In that one extra nanosecond, she was acutely aware of the feel of his skin against her cheek. His musky cologne set her blood racing. When they pulled back awkwardly, neither of them could look at each other. Carolina felt flustered and turned to retrieve her purse from the floor in a kind of retreat.