When the music started, he sighed in relief. Maybe it was “Folsom Prison Blues” or “Ring of Fire.” Those were great songs, made you feel good. Or maybe “A Boy Named Sue.” He remembered the first time he heard it. It cracked him up every time.
This sounded like a slow one but not too slow. He passed through Charleston and had a fleeting thought he needed to talk to his mother again. He wasn’t ready.
When he heard Johnny’s voice, he swerved in the road. In his low, gravelly voice that sounded strangely similar to Clifton Watson’s, the words he had been trying to avoid hit him.
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound . . .
Rance sat at a table in a room full of tables, waiting for his brother. His brother. All his life, he’d wanted nothing more than a brother or sister. Didn’t matter which, but a big brother? That would have been the best.
Then to find out he did, indeed, have a brother, and said brother was sitting in a penitentiary two and a half hours away, only an hour away from his mother, was a slap in the face.
He lifted his head when he heard a buzzer and a loud clank then a shuffling across the floor. He stood and held out his hand. “Rance Butler.”
“Nice to meet you, Rance. Sam Watson.” They shook hands and sat, both staring at one another.
“I know we’ve never met, but you look familiar.” Sam gave him a half-grin. “Don’t suppose you’ve ever been in trouble with the law?”
Rance chuckled. “No, not beyond a few traffic violations. Nothing the state police would have been interested in.”
Sam tilted his head and frowned in confusion. “Sounds as if you know more about me than I know about you.”
“You could say that.” Rance shifted nervously in his chair. “I’ve met your dad, Clifton Watson. He’s a pretty sick man.”
“I know. I wanted to be the one to give him a kidney, but we didn’t match up. Funny. I’m more like him than anyone, and I wasn’t a match.”
Sam wasn’t what he expected. He was calm, a little emotional when it came to his dad. How would he take the news of a twenty-eight-year-old bouncing baby brother?
“We did find a seventy-five percent match.”
The man across the table sat up straighter. “Seventy-five? I’ve done a little research. That’s better than average. Has it been set up yet? Is Dad able to have the surgery?”
Rance looked at him seriously. “It hasn’t been set up yet. The donor is still deciding whether or not he should do it.”
Sam pounded the table with his fist and shook his head. “How could he not? I mean, sure, it’s major surgery, and the recovery time is pretty intense, but to save a life?” He paused, took a deep breath, and narrowed his eyes. “Sorry. That was the old, angry me talking, but then the old me wouldn’t have thought much about saving Dad’s life either.”
“You aren’t close?”
“We are now. Now that I’m in here and can’t do anything to help him. I hope he lives long enough to see me out of here, able to make a fresh start.”
“I understand.” Rance looked down at his hands. How could he broach the real reason he was here? “How much longer?”
“Another two months.” Sam looked straight into his eyes. “You look like pictures of Dad when he was younger. I was always told I resembled my mom, but I don’t have many pictures of her.”
“Do you remember much about her?”
Sam leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowed as if taking a measure of the man across from him. Rance was positive he was wondering what made his family so interesting to him and was questioning whether or not to share intimate details about his childhood.
“What kind of doctor did you say you were?”
Rance grinned. “I’m finishing my internship at Georgetown General. I’m on rotation with Dr. Hobgood, your dad’s urologist. Right now, I’m an MD.”
“Thought so. I’ve talked to psychologists and psychiatrists, and they’re much better at questioning.”
“Yeah, well, I’m here on a personal mission, not a professional one.”
“You’re the match, aren’t you?”
Their eyes locked, so similar, and yet the lines around Sam’s eyes told of a life lived in difficulty and excess. Six years between them put Sam in his mid-thirties, most of his life without a mother, or at least without his own mother.
“I am.”
“You asked about my mother. The last time I saw my mother was before school the day she left. I was in first grade. She packed my lunch, kissed me goodbye, and hugged me tight, then sent me on my way to the bus. She stood at the door and waved as the bus pulled away. When I got home after school, Dad was home early, and she was gone. He was drunk and sent me to my room. I’m pretty sure I cried all night, and by the next morning, Dad fixed my cereal and told me we’d talk about it later. I didn’t want to be late for school.”
“Did you?”
“Talk about it? No. Occasionally I would get up the nerve to ask about her, and he would only say she needed to leave and wasn’t coming back. I asked my grandfather about her once, and he slapped me. He said he told her not to darken the door of the house and told me to never mention her again.” Sam’s eyes never wavered from Rance’s.
He looked down then back up at his brother. “I guess you stopped asking after that?”
Sam nodded. “I found out later she had remarried, but that was all. She hid her tracks pretty well.”
“Not that well. Somebody knew where she was.”
“How do you know?”
“Because two weeks ago she told me I had a brother, and that his name was Sam Watson.”
Charly was laughing as she answered her cell phone.
“Rance!”
“You sound awfully chipper for having been in class all day.”
“Sorry. Jake was telling me about one of his students.”
“Ah, teacher talk.”
“I can hear your eyes glazing over even on the phone.”
Rance chuckled. “No, I’m sure many of my hospital tales are as bad.”
“Are you off today?”
“I am. Thought about hitting the beach for a little while, if you’re going to be home soon.”
“I will be there in . . .” She paused and looked at the landmarks they were passing, “. . . ten to fifteen minutes.”
“Awesome. Want me to pick up a pizza?”
“Perfect. I had peanut butter and crackers for lunch, and they are definitely gone.”
Rance laughed. “I skipped lunch, so I’ll be sure to get a large.”
She glanced over at Jake who was pantomiming a love scene as he drove. She whispered, “Stop it!”
“Did you say something?”
“Oh, I was telling Jake something. He was about to miss our turn.” She bugged her eyes at the driver, who laughed out loud.
“Right. All right then, I’m on my way back from Charleston, so I’ll be about a half hour.”
“Perfect. I’ll make the tea.”
“Absolutely.” He sighed. “Thanks, Charly.”
“For what?” She frowned into the phone. “Something wrong?”
“No, we’ll talk later.”
They ended the call, and Charly whacked Jake on the arm.
Jake grabbed his arm and raised his shoulder. “Ow, woman, you don’t know your own strength.”
“Pu-leeze. You’ve been hit harder by preschoolers.”
“You are not wrong.” He laughed. “So, Ra-ance is the hunky boyfriend, eh?”
“Seriously, two syllables?”
“It sounded more simpering to say it in that tone.”
“I do not simper.”
“No, but you do get all starry-eyed when you talk to him on the phone.”
“Just you wait. It’ll hit you one of these days.”
He scrunched his face in a comical wince. “I hope not. Looks painful.”
“Love is patient, love is kind––”
“Not jealous, boastful, proud, rude. I know the dri
ll.” He paused then turned to her for the punch-line. “Bible drill, that is.” He winked at her.
She shook her head. “You’re hopeless.”
“Thought you’d never notice.”
Chapter Seventeen
Charly made a pitcher of tea and put plates on the counter as she unloaded the dishwasher. Jake was so funny. Since they started carpooling, he kept her laughing all the way to class and all the way home. He didn’t make her feel breathless like Rance did, but he was sweet. She needed to find him a woman. Hmmm. She might know the perfect one.
About the time she pulled plates and glasses out of the cabinet, there was a gentle knock on her screen door.
She ran to the door and unhooked it, smiling.
“Hi, Rance, you were quicker than I expected!”
“Hey, you.” He leaned over and kissed her gently over the box of hot pizza.
“What was that for?” She felt her face warm. It was sweet. Not a heart-shattering first kiss, but she’d take it. She felt like a puddle of goo anyway.
He continued gazing at her. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”
She gave him a gentle smile. “Have you now?”
“I have. I may do it again if it’s all right with you.” His half-grin threatened to undo her.
“I could be persuaded.” She glanced down the box in his hand. “Hungry?”
“Starved.” He raised his eyebrows when she glanced up at him. “For pizza.”
“Me too. No class until next Monday, a project turned in today, and the next one not due until next Thursday.”
“Great. Now tell me about this carpool-Jake-fella. Do I have anything to worry about?”
She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Not a thing. He makes me laugh and saves me gas.”
“Good. I thought about inviting him to go rock-climbing with me and maybe forgetting to tie him off––”
She held up her hand to stop him. “Not necessary. I think you would like him. He’s hilarious. I’m thinking about introducing him to Lydia.”
“Hmmm . . .” He arched a brow and nodded thoughtfully. “Mind if I change into my trunks in your bathroom?”
“Go ahead. Want to eat on the patio?”
“Sure. Less sand in the pizza.”
“Exactly.” A laugh bubbled up in her. “You sound better than you did on the phone.”
“I am better, thanks.” He winked at her and made his way to the bathroom with his bag.
“Can’t wait to hear about it.”
He didn’t plan to kiss her today. There she was, opening the front door for him, for all the world like a wife welcoming a tired husband home from a hard day at work. It seemed the most natural thing in the world, and he simply went for it. Hey, a guy could dream.
Dressed in his navy and white trunks and a blue t-shirt, towel over his shoulder, and sunglasses on his face, he met her out on the patio, pizza and tea in place.
“Perfect.”
“The pizza, the tea, or me?”
Was she flirting with him? Nice. “All of the above.” He sat in the chair next to her and looked at her with a half-smile, relaxing for the first time today.
“How was your day?” She handed him a plate and opened the box of pizza, pulling a piece from the slices. The cheese strung so far he had to rescue her by sliding a finger along the cheese to break the contact with the larger pie. “Thank you.”
“My day was what you would call interesting.” He wasn’t sure how to tell her about his day. Should he tell her? Would she understand the crazy situation he found himself in?
“Interesting, huh?”
“Yeah.” How much should he share?
“Probably more interesting than mine.”
“Depends on how you look at it.” He raked his hand through his hair and grimaced. “There have been a few things to happen in the last few weeks.”
“You mean besides the general-all-purpose grind of an internship?”
“Totally. Well, almost totally, outside of the internship.”
“Okay.” She looked puzzled as she took a bite of the hot pizza. “Ouch, ouch, ouch. Burn.” She took a large swig of iced tea. “Why do I do this every time? Sorry. Continue if you’d like.”
He looked at the slice in his hand and quickly set it back down on his plate. “I think I’ll let mine cool a little.”
She took another sip of the refreshing liquid and fanned her open mouth. “I’m a cautionary tale, aren’t I?”
He laughed. “You definitely are when it comes to hot pizza.”
“I think I’ll let mine cool a bit too.”
He leaned back again. “You haven’t met my family yet. They’re an interesting bunch.”
“You’ve mentioned your parents and grandparents, and that you always wanted a sibling.”
“Yeah, well, right before we went out on our first date, I went down to Charleston for a last minute visit. I hadn’t been in a while, and in the three years I’ve been here, my parents have never been up to Georgetown to visit me. I always thought it was a little odd. When I was at Clemson, they came all the time, but here? Only an hour away? Never.”
She gazed at him. “I can tell it hurts you.”
“I didn’t think much about it until Mom said something about me needing to call Dad more often, and then I mentioned he had never called me, and they’d never come down for a visit.” He shook his head. Why was it hard to simply come out and say it? Because her family was normal, and he had thought, until two weeks ago, his was too.
He looked at her and then looked away.
“Charly, she told me I have a brother.”
“What?” Her eyes widened in surprise.
“A brother.” He looked at her. “That’s not all. The man I’ve always thought my father, is not.”
“Oh, Rance.” She reached out to touch his hand as it rested on the table.
“Once she started telling me, there was no stopping her. She ran away from my father and my brother and made a deal with my grandfather to never see them again. She didn't know she was pregnant with me when she left, and she basically disappeared. Went back to her maiden name, met Dad, and they married, and he was the only one who knew I wasn’t his.”
“Why did she tell you now?”
“Apparently she found out, or someone told her, that my grandfather, my biological dad’s father, has died recently.”
“Was she afraid?”
“According to her.” He shook his head. “I’ve met my father. He doesn’t seem the harsh man she described, unless it was her father-in-law she was afraid of, instead of her husband. My father. Wow.”
“People change.”
“They do, and sometimes people are wrong.”
“What about your brother?”
“I met him today.”
“Okay, this is turning into a huge deal.” She took a bite of her cooled pizza and then wiped her hands on a napkin. “My ‘how was your day’ has gone into overdrive.”
“Hey, you asked.”
She grinned. “And I want to know. You can’t stop now.”
“I went to the correctional facility where Sam is being held. My brother is Sam Watson, and my father is Clifton Watson. He’s in the hospital at Georgetown waiting for a kidney transplant.”
Charly sat there, her mouth hanging open, wide eyes blinking in confusion. “Wait. You said your brother’s name is Sam Watson?”
“Yes.” He watched as she got up from the table and began to walk around then turned back to him. “You know him?”
She stopped, her arms crossed at her chest. “I’ve never met him, but I know who he is.”
“And?”
“He was caught embezzling relief funds after Hurricane Rosa and tried to implicate my brother. Tom and Lucy were the ones who caught him.”
“You’re kidding me.”
She shook her head grimly. “He was also involved in a situation that almost killed Jared several years ago.”
He wiped his h
and over his eyes and slung his head back in a huge sigh. “Great.”
“I mean, it’s been five years. Surely your mother knew about it. It was all over the regional news, especially since Sam worked for the state police.”
He looked into her eyes, holding her in place. “Charly, how do you think your mother will feel, and Tom and Lucy are going to feel when they find out the brother of the criminal they helped put away helped to deliver their babies, and is now dating their sister? And Jared and Sarah?” He closed his eyes and shook his head in disgust.
Sunsets aren’t the main focus of the beaches of the East Coast, but tonight, sitting on a towel on the sand, Charly leaned her head onto Rance’s muscular shoulder and watched the shadows lengthen as the tide started going out. He had told her everything except how he felt about it all. Maybe he was still processing the information.
They sat, fingers linked together loosely, saying nothing except occasionally when a thought would come to them.
After one such period of silence, Charly raised her eyes to his. “Why would they be upset about our dating? You had nothing to do with any of it.”
He gave her a half-smile. “I know, but people have a way of surprising you with what they will and will not tolerate in relationships. Bad seed and all.”
“We just started dating. It’s not like we’re married.” She huffed a little, looking away to avoid his gaze.
“True. And who knows what will happen once this internship is over? I may not be here much longer.”
She turned and looked at him, stricken. His leaving had never come up. She knew interns didn’t stay where they were working, usually. She had thought maybe . . .
“You never considered that, did you?”
She shook her head and drew in a deep breath. “No, not really. I’ve been working hard to be spontaneous.” She gave him a rueful smile.
“Me too.” He pulled his fingers from hers and stood, holding out his hand to her. “Walk a little?”
She nodded and reached up to him, hanging on to his hand as they walked.
The beach had emptied at suppertime, and being a weekday, they had it to themselves. It was like being on a desert island, if you didn’t think about people in those houses along the shore. Even at that, the dunes between the houses and the beach insulated them from the world. Saltwater lapped at their feet as the tide went out, leaving a hard surface to walk on, the occasional shell or jellyfish left behind.
Carolina Grace (Southern Breeze Series Book 3) Page 11