Return to Sullivans Island (22 page)

“God, farming sounds so romantic to me. You know, you just get away from the world and make things grow—”

Woody sat forward in his chair with a burst of laughter.

“Are you serious? Tell you what, someday I’ll take you out to the farm and you can see for yourself how romantic it is to get up at four in the morning to feed and milk the cows when it’s twenty below outside.”

He’s taking me someplace? What does that mean? Nothing, she thought, it’s just talk.

“Holy cow, no pun intended.”

“Who’s corny?”

“Okay, okay. But twenty below? I can’t imagine. You’re probably right. So where do they live? Alaska?”

“Nope. Iowa.”

“Iowa? Ah, the elusive Iowa! Well, maybe when I finally get there I’ll meet you at your family home and we’ll all have a big old glass of fresh milk together.”

“You know what? You’d better watch out. It’s stuff like that that gets you hooked on farming.”

“I’ll bet.” She realized she could spend the rest of the night talking to Woody. He was filled with all sorts of stories and surprises and he was kind. When she looked at her watch she saw it was almost two in the morning. “It’s late. Rats.”

“Yeah, I gotta turn in so I can get up tomorrow and get drunk with Mike and Phoebe.”

“How stupid.” Beth got up and straightened her rocker back in its line just as her Aunt Maggie would have done. Then she took Woody’s and did the same.

“You’re telling me? Here, wait. I should’ve done that. I’ll turn off the lights.”

“I’ll help.” When they reached the kitchen she said, “I have to check the stove twice.”

“What?”

“Family ritual. Listen, Woody? Thanks for all your help tonight.”

“It was nothing. Sorry about the mess.”

“No big deal.”

They said good night reluctantly and if asked they would have said that the reluctance was because neither of them was particularly sleepy. The truth was that the conversation between them had come so easily and they had actually enjoyed themselves. No games. No preening. Just friendly banter as they got to know each other a little.

Beth took Lola upstairs to sleep in her room, and as she was washing her face she wondered about Woody and his family. What exactly was it about people from the Midwest that was so appealing? The Midwest was so different from the South, or at least it seemed so to her. People from Ohio and Indiana seemed more reserved, more prudent. More stoic. While she thought that Woody would have told her anything she wanted to know about himself, he was not the kind of guy who fought for center stage to tell the world how amazing he was. Not one little iota. He was honest, or at least he seemed to be, and he was dignified. Whoever gets him will be a lucky girl, she thought, because he’s gonna make a great husband.

Morning came quickly and Beth was in the kitchen pouring a cup of coffee when her Aunt Sophie called.

“Hey, girl! How’s my favorite niece I’ve been missing? And don’t tell anybody I said you’re my fave but you know you are.”

“Hey, Aunt Sophie!”

“God, my life is so crazy. I’m so sorry I haven’t called you!”

“Oh, don’t worry about that! It’s so good to hear your voice!”

“I called the house number last night and no one answered. Y’all gotta get voice mail someday.”

“Well, you know it’s the same phone number that we’ve had since forever. Aunt Maggie hates newfangled changes and I guess she thinks it has historic value or something.”

“Maggie thinks everything has value, which is one of her redeeming qualities, if you think about it. It’s also why that kitchen has nineteen billion mugs that don’t match, right?”

“Yep. Actually, there’s an old answering machine in the pantry. I’m going to hook that up right now.”

“Good idea. So what’s going on, sugar?”

“Well, let’s see. I cut my hair and colored it back to normal.”

“Well, good. Do you like it?”

“Yeah, I do. It’s healthier-looking. And I got contact lenses, so I can actually see. And, I got two jobs, and lemme see what else.”

“Two jobs?”

“Yeah, both part-time. Not a burden and they keep me busy. Oh, and Mike is here from Atlanta with some girl he’s seeing and also this guy who works for Uncle Henry’s bank and manages my trust fund.”

“Really? Well, ahem! Are we having a double-date house party?”

“Yeah, right. Well, Mike is having his little honeymoon, but I am locked in my room upstairs with Lola. And if you breathe that, I’ll get killed by the Morals Police.”

“I’m saying nothing! So is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just had a question about the opposite sex, but now I’m not so sure if I need the advice at all.”

“Oh, tell me anyway. There’s nothing like a little romance to get the juices flowing.”

Beth told Sophie all about falling for Max. She told her about their incredible dinner and then about seeing him with the other woman at the very place she worked. But when the time came to talk about the prior night, she went very light on the details of his flirtation with Phoebe.

“Anyway, we’re having dinner tomorrow night and I’m just wondering how to make him, you know, like me. And I should tell you, he’s older.”

“Age doesn’t matter. Men are all the same. Wait. How much older?”

“Maybe like thirty-seven?”

“Yikes. Still, that’s your business. Aren’t you over twenty-one?”

“Last time I checked.”

“Okay, then here’s what you do. Look great and get him to talk.”

“What do you mean? Talk about what?”

“About himself. I guarantee you that’s his favorite topic. But here’s the trick.”

“What?”

“Challenge what he says. Like if he starts talking about why he’s single, point out that men who marry before age fifty live ten years longer.”

“Is that really true?”

“Yes ma’am! It was in some big study a few years back. But between us they can do a study to prove anything, right?”

“Probably.”

“No, I’m telling you. Studies are skewed all the time.”

“Speaking of…how did the studies go on your vitamin business?”

“The studies went fine but—and this is for no one’s ears but yours—my crazy twin is losing her mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we have been trying them out ourselves, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Well, they seem to agree with Allison, except that they make her a little weirded-out. I mean, in ways you don’t want to know. But I don’t like them because they make my heart race. She says that Geoffrey is adjusting the formula. And, he had better do it PDQ because this stuff goes on the market pronto. I can just see it now. Thousands of people get deathly ill, go to the hospital, and bang, we’re out of business and in court for the rest of our lives.”

“Don’t worry, Aunt Sophie. Aunt Allison is like, sorry, but she’s a crank. But she’s not going to endanger the public.”

“Let’s hope not. Anyway, back to your hunk of burning love?”

“Yeah, oh Lord. Max.”

“Listen to me, sweetie. Blow out your hair. Put on some perfume and makeup. Wear something that shows what you’ve got, but not so provocatively so that you look like a tramp…”

“Aunt Sophie!”

“Just kidding. I’m telling you, let him talk about himself. Now, tell me, have you heard from your mother?”

“Yeah. Like twice a day. Email. You know her. She’s too cheap to call. Anyway, she’s having a really great time.”

“Well, I hope so. It was the only dream she ever had, that is, besides having you.”

“Oh, that is so sweet, isn’t it? Mom’s like fiftysomething and living her dreams.”

“Yeah, it sure is. Okay, now if you need me, call me. Call me anyway to let me know how this hot date goes, okay?”

Beth promised that she would, and just as she hung up, Phoebe and Mike came slowly into the kitchen, looking bleary-eyed and frayed around the edges.

“Morning, cuz. We got any coffee?”

“In the pot. Milk’s on the counter. Where’s Woody?”

“In the shower.”

“Oh. How’d y’all sleep?”

“He slept like a log, but not me, honey. I was up all night,” Phoebe said.

“Why? Were you sick?”

Phoebe looked at Mike and then back to Beth.

“Just tell her,” Mike said.

“Well, this is kind of screwed up, but did anyone ever say that this house is haunted?”

“Gosh, no!” Beth lied. “What happened?”

“Somebody was breathing in my ear. Every time I fell asleep, somebody would whisper in my ear and I would wake up. Then I would drift off again, and two minutes later, I swear someone was breathing in my ear. As long as I stayed awake it didn’t happen, but the minute I would drift off into a dream, here came the daggum breathing on me again!”

“Well, maybe you should sleep in the hammock tonight,” Beth said, unsmiling, looking Phoebe straight in the eye.

“Why would Phoebe want to sleep in the hammock?” Mike said.

“Why don’t you ask her? I gotta go walk my dog. And Phoebe, it would be really nice if you lay waste to the kitchen again, clean up after yourself. Woody and I washed y’all’s dishes for an hour last night.”

“Oh Lord. I was just wondering what happened to all that mess. The last thing that I remember, I was gonna come in here and clean up. Then I woke up in bed about a thousand times. And then I just forgot. I know what! Let’s make blueberry pancakes!”

Beth caught Mike’s eye and rolled her own at him as if to say, You’ve got a real genius there, cousin.

“Let’s not,” Beth mumbled.

Mike sighed. “Why don’t we go out for breakfast, Phebes? Then no one has to clean up anything.”

“Now that sounds like a plan,” Beth said, and scooped up Lola under her arm.

“Sorry,” Mike said, and then under his breath he mumbled to Phoebe,
She sounds just like my mother.

“Don’t call me
she
.
She
is the cat’s mother,” Beth said to Mike as she passed him.

“See you later, Maggie,” Mike said, smirking. “Unless you want to come with us? I was thinking maybe the Sea Biscuit on the Isle of Palms?”

“Up yours,” Beth said quietly, giving Mike the finger.

“She’s such a lady,” Mike called out, making sure Beth wouldn’t miss his wisecrack. “A simple no thank you would do, you know!”

“Up yours sideways!” Beth called back, having the final remark, passing through the living room. She opened the front door and crossed the front porch to take Lola toward the beach. “Come on, miss. Let’s go chase a seagull.”

It was about nine-thirty and too late to take Lola out on the beach for a long walk. All the dogs had to be off the beach by ten so that people wouldn’t be terrorized by them, not that any dogs ever truly terrorized a human on the beaches of Sullivans Island. But there were occasions when large wet dogs, Labs and goldens in particular, would shake off their water and sand right next to a stranger with a napping infant. Or these same lovable mutts were known to occasionally pilfer a sandwich from someone’s picnic. And sometimes they would commandeer a Frisbee game by jumping in the middle, grabbing the Frisbee out of the air, and taking off down the beach just lickety-split!

So, okay, Beth thought, maybe there
was
a reason for the stringent dog laws. Not that Lola was interested in any of those pursuits, but if she had been caught on the beach at the wrong hour, it would be difficult to explain to the Canine Cops that Lola was different from all other animals. On the planet. Ever.

By the time Beth returned the house was empty and she passed the rest of the day quietly, answering emails from her mother and catching up with her friends on Facebook. That night Beth went to work and there was no sign of Mike, Woody, or Phoebe. When she returned home, still no one was there. Had they left for Atlanta? Beth checked her grandmother’s room and saw that Phoebe and Mike’s things were there, in piles all over the room. No, they had simply passed like proverbial ships in the night. She took a book out to the porch to read for a few minutes and thought about what Phoebe had reported that morning about the breathing and whispering in her ear. Maybe her grandmother was on her side, telling Phoebe to get her skank butt out of their house. It was a happy thought. Around midnight, she heard their car pull into the yard, music blaring.

Oh great, Beth thought, the neighbors are probably on the phone with Aunt Maggie right now and any minute the phone’s going to ring. It’s going to be Aunt Maggie saying she knew this would happen and why did she trust her with the family’s reputation? Was anything broken? Had the police been called in to settle the problem?

Well, if that happens, Beth thought, I’ll just tell her she needs to talk to her crazy-ass son and his love machine, not to me. I haven’t done a damn thing to compromise anything. Not that I wouldn’t like to if I had the chance, she thought.

Beth was working herself into quite a little snit when the music suddenly stopped. She heard the kitchen door slam and from there the noise became more reasonable. She could hear them talking but she was far enough away that she could not make out their words. A few minutes later, they were all on the porch with her, beers in hand. Woody, as expected, was obviously the most sober among them.

“Hey,” Beth said, not getting up from her rocker. “Where’d y’all go?”

“We went downtown. Mike wanted to give Phebes a trip down memory lane.”

“Yep!” Phoebe said. “We cocktailed all over Charleston.”

Thinking that was obvious and that her Sunday departure couldn’t arrive fast enough, she said, “Gee, did they check your ID?”

“How did you know that? Y’all! How did she know that?”

Because you should add expert in
juvenile behavior
to your résumé, Beth thought. “So, big shot, where’d you take them?”

“Oh, my cynical little cousin! I can see the wheels turning in your precious head!”

“Meaning what?”

“That you’re worried I dragged them into the dives I used to frequent, but no, I did not. I took them to the rooftop bar of the Vendue Inn for a little sunset viewing, and
then
we went to the dives.”

“Like Big John’s?”

“Excuse me, Paris Hilton, but the halls of Big John’s are hallowed,” Mike said with a laugh.