Last Light over Carolina (17 page)

“I, uh…” Josh finished pulling his jeans on. “I asked him to take a walk.”

Bud snorted in disgust. He put his hands on his hips and gathered his thoughts. “The cops will be here in a minute, so listen up. I’ll help you through this mess. Get you to a hospital. Then Pee Dee and I will take the
Carolina
back. You can take the bus home or whatever the hell else you want to do.”

Josh stood silent as the words crashed into meaning. “You’re kicking me off the boat?”

“That’s it.”

“Well…what about my pay?” He looked miserable.

“Tell you what I’m going to do. I’ll give you a hundred dollars cash for bus fare. Then I’m going to pay off the damages to this room. The rest I’m giving to Lizzy to pay her bills. You got a problem with that?”

Josh swiped his hand through his hair. “You won’t…tell Lizzy? About this, I mean.”

Bud tightened his lips, holding back the torrent of words he wanted to shout at the kid. Bud was deeply hurt by this betrayal. He could only imagine the boatload of hurt his Lizzy would feel. “No,” he replied. “Because by the time I get back with the boat,
you
will have told her.”

“She’ll leave me.” Josh’s voice was a hoarse, scared whisper. “I’ll lose my son.”

As far as Bud was concerned, that was something Josh should’ve thought about before he cheated on her. “I don’t know what she’ll do. But that’s between you and her. I’m done with you. Pee Dee will deliver your stuff. You’re off the
Carolina
.”

Tires screeched in the parking lot as the sirens went silent. It would only be a few moments until the cops were at the door. Bud turned to face Josh and saw the heartbreak and disillusionment on the boy’s face.

“I messed up bad. I’m sorry, Bud. I’ll make it up to you. To her. I swear.”

Bud was struck by his sincerity. Images flashed in his mind of Josh and Lizzy on their wedding day; the proud parents bringing baby Will home to meet his grandparents; Josh aboard the
Miss Carolina
, his fingers flying as he culled the shrimp faster than any deckhand Bud had ever seen. He was a
natural on the sea, destined to be a captain—if he didn’t get himself killed first. He was a boy Bud had loved like a son. He was a kid who’d got married too young. The boy’s testosterone was screwing up the man’s judgment.

Carolina’s words came back at him again.
We shouldn’t be apart so much
. Bud felt the sunken weight of guilt. Carolina was right, as she usually was. He shouldn’t have kept the boy from home so long. He was partly to blame if Josh’s marriage broke up.

Outside the room he heard the heavy footfalls of the police. Bud sat down on the mattress and rubbed his weary eyes with calloused palms. So much lay in ruins—the room, his hopes for a son to take over, his daughter’s marriage. Dropping his hands, he thought bleakly of the three more times he’d roused and tried to call his wife, and how each time he’d got the answering machine.

He was left to wonder if his own marriage didn’t lie in ruins as well.

September 21, 2008

On board the
Miss Carolina

Bud tightened his grip on the winch as the boat began to pitch in the swell of the waves. A burst of pain shot through his arm with each jerk. Maybe he was going to die at sea, he
thought. Like Bobby. Josh was a lot like Bobby—fun-loving and irrepressible. Too good-looking for his own good. Maybe that was why he’d always liked the boy. And why he missed him, too.

He swallowed hard at the thought of his brother. In fifteen years, the pain of losing him had never lessened. Bud thought about him often, especially when he was sitting alone in the pilothouse, staring at the vast sea. He never could figure out what kind of guy Bobby was. He was handsome, and the girls called him romantic. But Bud just knew he was his dearest friend in the world.

Bud loved to read Hemingway, and he remembered telling Bobby when he was a kid the story of the old man who’d caught a huge fish—bigger than his boat. Bobby loved the story, even though he’d said the old man should’ve motored home and made himself a burger or something. But Bobby kept going back to that story over the years whenever times were tough. He’d remind Bud of the old man who hung on to that fish until his hands bled.

Fishing had kept Bobby and him together, and it had also taken him away. After Bobby died, Bud never felt the same about it. Some of the passion had died along with his brother. When times got bad on the boat or with Carolina, he no longer had the hope he did before. Maybe that was why his father had stopped shrimping after Bobby died. He just didn’t have the heart for it anymore.

Bud had worked hard all his life and provided for his family. He never complained. But the past years had been difficult.
It was like being caught in a riptide. The harder he worked, the farther behind he got. Now he was drowning in debt. He didn’t want to leave Carolina this way. He needed more time. He’d promised her better.

Bud scowled and looked down at his mangled arm. This wasn’t how he wanted his story to end. He didn’t want to die like Bobby in some fool accident before his time. Or like that old man with the big fish. He didn’t want to end his life with nothing but blood on his hands and the skeleton of a fish.

September 21, 2008, 1:15 p.m.

McClellanville

C
arolina arrived at
the docks and parked in the lot of Coastal Seafood. The office was a small wood building nestled behind the enormous warehouse that bordered the creek. Several trawlers lined the dock, but the
Miss Carolina
wasn’t in yet.

She walked slowly around the weathered buildings wondering—hoping—Bud had a good day. Gusts of wind carried wafts of the rich, fertile scent of the marsh. At the water’s edge she peered past the pilings and the hulls of boats down Jeremy Creek. There was no sign of the
Miss Carolina.
Carolina crossed her arms and looked up at the darkening sky, frowning.

“Lookin’ for Bud?”

Carolina swung her head toward the familiar voice. She spied Judith high up on deck of the
Miss Ann
. She was stockier now than she’d been as the young PE teacher, and instead of a dress she wore jeans and an old oil-stained sweatshirt bearing the phrase
Friends Don’t Let Friends Eat Imported Shrimp
.

Her old friend Judith Baker preferred to be called J.B. by the working crew. She was the first—and only—female shrimp boat captain in McClellanville. Probably along the South Carolina coast. She’d purchased the
Miss Ann
from Bud after he’d built the
Miss Carolina
. Judith had bucked a lot of nasty comments and prejudice from both men and women who believed no decent woman would try to act like a man. She’d laughed and replied that she wasn’t trying to be a man. It was rough going at first. Judith couldn’t find a man who’d serve as crew for a woman. So she’d worked alone for several seasons, proving her mettle as an able captain. Though she wasn’t born into shrimping like Bud, Judith was a decent carpenter, mechanic, painter, and tailor. She persevered and brought in the goods, haul after haul. Captain J.B. later hired on a crew and earned a begrudging respect, both on the docks and in the community. Over beers at the Shack, the guys owned that J.B. might be one of the best captains on the dock, man or woman.

“Hey, Judith!” Carolina called, returning the wave and walking toward her. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Thought you’d be out.”

Judith came to the railing of her trawler. Her face was ruddy and tan. Spiky wisps of her short salt-and-pepper hair poked out from under her cap. “Couldn’t afford to take her out today. Your man’s not back yet, but I hope he gets his ass back in soon. A low pressure system is developing.”

Carolina looked up at the blue-gray clouds smearing the sky. “He was due in around noon.”

“Then he’ll be here soon. Maybe he’s having a good day. Sure as hell hope somebody does. Come on up and wait here. I just made coffee.”

“That’s an offer I won’t say no to.”

Judith leaned over and lent Carolina a strong, slightly calloused hand. With a firm yank, Carolina climbed aboard. Her gaze swept the boat on which she’d once been a deckhand. The
Miss Ann
was an older wooden boat that had always been lovingly maintained by Oz, Bud, and now Judith. The tools of the trade—ropes, cable, nets, winches, pulleys—were all neatly stored and in place. No one could ever fault J.B. for being lax.

“She looks good,” she told Judith.

Judith’s eyes shone with pride. “Yeah, she’s a sweet boat. I’m lucky to have her.”

Carolina’s face softened, feeling the spirit of the boat. “I had some of my happiest days on board this old girl,” she said in a wistful tone. Her gaze drifted up to the ladder she used to climb to survey the vast ocean. She hadn’t felt that soaring exhilaration in a long time.

“Whoa. You sound as moody as that sky up there.”

“Do I? It’s been a weird day.”

“Must be the weather. Barometric pressure can do strange things. How about that coffee?”

Carolina followed Judith below deck to the galley. She’d been in many galleys over the years, and most of them were pigpens with cans of motor oil, girlie magazines, and dented pots cluttering the counter. Judith’s galley was as impeccably neat as a navy brig. When she handed Carolina a mug of coffee, the brew was fresh and the cup clean.

“Sit down,” she said with a brusque gesture.

Carolina slid into the small booth and cradled the warm mug between her fingers.

“What are you staring at in that coffee? Reading your fortune?” asked Judith.

“I wish,” she replied with a short laugh.

Judith sat across from her and leaned against the back of the bench. “What’s the matter, Caro?”

Carolina hesitated. She didn’t like bringing up her personal business, but Judith was her closest friend. “I saw Odelle today.”

Judith gave a short laugh. “That explains a lot.”

There was no love lost between Judith and Odelle. Judith made no secret of the fact that she found Odelle to be a bottom-feeder, and Odelle was openly disdainful of Judith’s being a boat captain.

“It was a nice visit, actually,” Carolina replied. “But strange. I’d completely forgotten the date. Did you know it’s been exactly nineteen years since Hurricane Hugo?”

Judith merely shrugged. “I guess.”

Carolina wondered why the date had made such an impact on her, but obviously not on others. Maybe others just didn’t want to be reminded. She’d been skittish about storms ever since.

“We started talking about our experiences that night and she got into how Lee had acted during the hurricane. We’ve all talked about this a zillion times, but today she told me things I’d never heard her say before.”

Judith leaned forward. “Like what?”

“Well,” she began slowly, careful not to betray Odelle’s confidence, “it was more her attitude about Lee. She was much more open about her anger with him. Which is good, right? But she went on to say how great Bud was, how he took care of his family and how he was more of a man than Lee.” Carolina stared at the clouds in her coffee, seeing Odelle’s face as she talked. “You know, sometimes I catch a flicker in her eye when she mentions Lee, and I think, What does that mean? I wonder if she knows about what happened between Lee and me.”

Judith waved her hand dismissively. “She was probably just comparing the two men and Lee came up lacking. Let’s face it, Bud’s a hunk. Always was. Odelle had her eye on him from the first day.”

“It wasn’t like that! She wasn’t jealous.”

“But maybe a little envious?”

Carolina cracked a small smile. “Maybe a very little.”

“Don’t ever tell her what happened,” Judith said bluntly. “She can’t keep a secret. Even if she wanted to. The truth just
busts out of her, and she might regret it, but it’ll be too late. This is a small community. It’ll spread through town faster than a plague. It’s just guilt you’re feeling—let it go.”

Carolina put her elbows on the table and sipped her coffee, wondering how to do that.

“Is that what’s got you so wound up?”

“No,” Carolina replied with a sigh. She lowered her mug to the table. “All day long I’ve had this nagging feeling something’s, I don’t know, wrong. I woke up with it. I had this dream last night of Bud and me.” She looked up to see Judith’s brows rise. “Oh, never mind. I know people hate to hear about other people’s dreams.”

“No, go ahead.” When Carolina demurred, Judith said more forcefully, “Really.”

“It’s just that this one felt so real. And the feelings…” She took a breath, reliving the girlish rush of love for Bud she’d had in the dream. “They were so strong.”

“What was it about?”

“Me and Bud, back when we were young.” Her eyes roamed the small galley, and in a flash she saw herself cooking shrimp in tomato sauce over the electric burner and Bud coming up from behind to slip his arms around her. “Back when we were together, here on this boat. Sometimes, I think it was a mistake for me to ever leave the water.”

“You had Lizzy.”

“I know, but maybe when she got older, I could’ve come back to be Bud’s deckhand again. We were happy then. It was
never the same after I stayed ashore. We lost that closeness. We used to tell each other everything. Now…” She looked down and let her fingers drum the sides of the mug. “I don’t know if we can get it back.”

“You can try, honey.”

“I have been trying, but it’s like he’s shut me out. Ever since…you know. I don’t think Bud’s ever forgiven me.”

Judith was the only person she’d confided in. Her old friend never judged her. She’d advised Carolina to stay the course.

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“We’ve been to counseling. We’re trying to work it out, but I sense him holding back.” Carolina fidgeted with her wedding ring. “I hate to ask, but I have to. Has Bud ever fooled around?”

“What? Damn, no! Not that I know of, anyway.”

“You’d tell me if you knew, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, I would,” Judith replied. “You’re talking crazy now, girl.”

“Am I? I used to head south with Bud, don’t forget. I’ve seen with my own eyes what went on in those bars. Lord knows we’ve both heard the stories. No woman ever thinks it will happen to her. But it can. And it does.”

“Carolina, Bud loves you. Always has. I’ve never seen him with another woman.”

Carolina put her hand over her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t know whether hearing that makes me happy or makes me feel worse.”

“Would you forgive him if he did fool around?”

Carolina stared at Judith, slack-jawed. She honestly didn’t know what to say. Judith was staring back at her with a look that said,
Don’t worry, honey. I don’t expect you to answer
.

Judith slapped her hands on the table and pulled herself out from the bench. “I’ll go up and check on the
Miss Carolina
. You finish your coffee. Be right back.”

Carolina leaned back and let her eyes graze across the galley. Among the pictures posted on the bulletin board with plastic pushpins, she recognized the photo of Judith wearing the corny old captain’s hat that Carolina and Bud had given her the day she took possession of the
Miss Ann
. She squinted more closely at a photograph of herself and Bud standing beside an enormous rust-encrusted anchor from an eighteenth-century sailing ship. They’d snagged it in their nets, and she remembered Bud had had a hell of a fight bringing it up. Carolina recalled the day they’d donated that monstrosity to Coastal Seafood, back when the Morrison and Edwards families were friends. Oz had cooked barbecue and the whole extended family and friends had shown up with cornbread, boiled shrimp, greens, and more to celebrate the dedication. They used to laugh a lot back then.

She closed her eyes and felt the memories drag her, one by one, like links of a rusted chain, to a time she didn’t like to return to. Remembering how one mistake could act as an anchor, crusted with bitterness and recrimination as thick as barnacles, keeping her unrelentingly mired in the mud.

March 2, 2001

McClellanville

Bud’s cold dismissal had cut Carolina to the bone.
I’ll get there when I get there
. His insensitivity was bewildering. All week long she’d been staring at the phone, willing it to ring. He hadn’t called, and she’d begun imagining every kind of accident that could happen to a shrimper.

And now, when he finally had called, they’d quarreled. She squeezed her eyes shut and put her forehead in her palm while her mind screamed,
Why? Why? Why?
Another fight was the last thing she’d wanted. Why hadn’t she told him how much she missed him? Why hadn’t he told her the same thing? She had a sickening feeling the answer was obvious.

Carolina was a woman with a grown child, but she’d flopped across her bed and sobbed like a little girl. When at last she wiped her eyes and looked around her bedroom, though it had only been a matter of minutes, it seemed as if everything had changed.

She shook herself as if from a trance. The house suddenly felt like a tomb. She needed to get out, maybe have a drink with friends. Anything to feel a little better. She washed her face with cool water and applied a little blush and lipstick. Then she brushed her shoulder-length hair and pulled it up into a twist. She leaned closer to the mirror and touched the
tender skin along her cheekbones. Too many hours spent in the sun had left their mark in fine lines at her eyes. Still, she was slender and firm in her jeans and looked far younger than her forty-nine years.

It was a short drive to her favorite restaurant. As she walked from her car to the old wooden building with a huge red crab painted on the sign, she could hear thumping music and laughter pouring from the open windows.

It was a busy Friday night at the Crab Shack. Some of the couples at the tables were tourists with accents from all over the country. Most were locals. Carolina recognized a few faces. She smiled and stopped to chitchat as she made her way to the bar. She felt a little conspicuous. She’d been to bars many times, but always with Bud or a group of friends.

“Carolina!”

Carolina turned to see Lee Edwards standing at the bar waving her over. The last person she’d expected to see at the Shack tonight was her boss. She made her way to his side. Lee was casually dressed in jeans and a navy V-neck cashmere sweater. When he bent to kiss her cheek in a friendly greeting, she caught the familiar scent of his cologne.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Nothing much. I was alone and just needed to get out. Maybe have a drink.”

His brows rose. “Well, come sit down. Let me buy you one.”

Carolina was torn between wanting someone to talk with and her desire to be alone. “Thanks.”

Lee propped himself on the stool next to hers at the bar and
lifted his finger to summon the bartender. A young man with a bored expression and two piercings in his ear stepped up to take their order. Lee asked for a vodka and tonic, and when he looked at Carolina, she ordered a margarita.

“I’ve never seen you here alone before. Is everything all right?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” she replied, trying to sound airy but hearing the pain in her own voice.

The bartender set the drinks before them with a bowl of nuts. Lee clinked his glass against hers. The liquid was simultaneously salty and sweet, and for one moment she was able to take her mind off the anger and hurt that felt palpable in her chest. It hurt to breathe in. It hurt to breathe out. She wondered what it’d be like to not breathe at all.