On Ocean Boulevard

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On Ocean Boulevard Page 12

by Mary Alice Monroe


  Granny James said, “I’ll have the same. There are cut limes in the fridge, dear.”

  Pandora turned to Linnea. “And you?”

  “Gin and tonic sounds perfect.”

  “Be back in a flash,” said Pandora as she turned to leave.

  “Make Marietta’s a double,” called out Granny James. “I have to catch up.”

  Marietta snickered. “It will take a lot more than gin to achieve that, old girl,” she replied, emphasizing the last words.

  “What are you playing?” asked Linnea.

  “Gin rummy. Do you know the game?” asked Marietta.

  Linnea shook her head. “Sorry.”

  “Raised by wolves,” Granny James said sotto voce.

  Marietta laughed lightly, making a joke of it. “We’ll have to teach you. It’s ever so much fun. I taught my granddaughters how to play bridge, and now we have mini tournaments when we get together. They absolutely love it.”

  Linnea walked to the oversize white upholstered chair. She wiped the back of her pants, afraid she’d get sand on the immaculate fabric.

  “Don’t worry,” Granny James said. “I can’t seem to keep sand from the house, no matter what I do. Make yourself comfortable, my dear.”

  Embarrassed at being caught, Linnea slid gracefully onto the chair.

  “Harper and Pandora were quite close growing up in England,” Granny James told her as she played cards. “They were more like sisters than cousins, really. Pandora is such a dear. She was always at Greenfields Park. It’s nice to see the two girls together again here.” She discarded and called out gleefully, “Gin!”

  In better spirits, she turned her attention to Linnea as Marietta shuffled the deck and dealt another round. “Pandora is my great-niece on my brother’s side. But she’s more like a granddaughter to me.”

  “Why, thank you, Granny James,” Pandora called out as she walked into the room carrying a tray of tall glasses, each with a lime wedge. “I’ve always felt the same.” She passed out the iced drinks to the two older women first. “They’re both doubles. Seemed only fair play.”

  “Oh, how delightful,” Marietta said, taking the glass. “I may have to have one of the girls pick me up after this. I won’t be fit to drive the golf cart home.”

  “You never could hold your liquor,” Granny James told her.

  “I can drink you under the table any day,” Marietta replied.

  “You should. You’re twice my size.”

  Marietta laughed then, a lovely trill that made Linnea smile. She watched the two women clink glasses and envied them their friendship. She glanced at Pandora, who caught Linnea’s gaze as she turned.

  “That’ll be us someday,” Pandora said as she handed her a tall glass.

  Linnea liked the thought. Taking a sip, she almost purred. “Delicious.”

  Pandora took a sip of hers and agreed. “I was dying of thirst.” She settled on the sofa and maneuvered a few of the blue pillows behind her back, stretching out her long, tanned legs, not the least concerned about sand.

  “Granny, when you redo the house, you must get new sofas. These are the size of small continents. I simply cannot get comfortable.”

  Granny James chuckled. “You look quite comfy to me. I bought the house furnished, and come to think of it, he’s a fairly large man. You met him at Harper’s house. He’s one of the sisters’ husbands. Devlin Cassell.”

  “That would be Dora’s husband,” said Marietta.

  “The very one. He sold it to me at the friends and family price.”

  “Granny,” Pandora said with a shake of her head. “You can never resist a bargain.”

  “It’s quite… grand,” Linnea said, searching for a word that might compliment the house.

  “Vast, you mean. Massive. Too big for one old woman alone,” Granny James said. “I bought it in hopes that the house will be filled with visitors. Like you, dear Pandora. My dear, have you decided yet whether you’ll take that year abroad and study here? You really must. Keep your granny company.”

  “It’s very tempting,” Pandora replied.

  Granny James shifted her gaze back to Linnea. “My granddaughter Harper lives on the island too. Do you know her? Harper McClellan?”

  “No, sorry,” Linnea replied. “I grew up in Charleston. Most of my island friends were summer residents only.”

  “Well, no matter,” Granny James said, adjusting her cards. “Harper grew up in New York. She only came to Sullivan’s Island for summers to visit with her grandmother Marietta at Sea Breeze.” She indicated Mrs. Muir. “She lives there now with her husband. Which is why I bought a house on Sullivan’s myself. What’s life for if not to be with our grandchildren, eh, Marietta?”

  “True,” Marietta agreed. “And now our great-grandchildren too.” She set down a card and sang out, “Gin!”

  Granny James cursed.

  Linnea looked again at Marietta as connections were made. Marietta and Granny James were more than friends: they were related through marriage. This really is a small town, she thought.

  “Carson promised Harper would invite me to dinner,” said Linnea.

  Marietta chirped up, “Oh, you must come. Harper is a simply marvelous cook. Farm to table, isn’t that what you call it these days when you cook the food from your garden?”

  Granny James lifted her brows with exaggeration. “How that happened, I’ll never know. Her mother and I cannot boil water.”

  Linnea looked out through the vast wall of windows. The big white house was an unimaginative assemblage of square rooms that held little architectural interest. Linnea had seen many such houses built on the islands during the boom. Yet there was no disputing that the ocean views from every room were spectacular.

  “The views are fabulous, aren’t they?” Pandora said, noticing Linnea’s wandering eyes.

  “Yes,” Linnea said, and took a quick sip of her drink.

  Pandora took a sip, then said, her eyes twinkling, “Granny, did you know Linnea thinks the house is an eyesore?”

  Linnea almost choked on her drink. She swallowed hard, unable to think of anything to say to redeem herself.

  Granny James laughed, a low, throaty sound. “But it is! Just that. I bought the house for the views.”

  “And the price Devlin offered,” Marietta chided.

  Granny James picked up a card, ignoring Marietta’s comment. “I’m coming to terms with the house. I thought I wouldn’t mind the vast space. Especially after Greenfields Park.”

  “I wish you could’ve seen Greenfields Park,” interrupted Pandora with a hearty sigh. She stirred her ice with her fingertip. “How many bedrooms were there?” she asked Granny James. “Twelve?”

  “I can’t remember,” Granny James replied, discarding. “A lot to keep clean.”

  Pandora chuckled. “But it was all British charm and history.”

  “Sold. Gone,” Granny James said without remorse.

  “Oh, Granny, won’t you miss it, even a little?” asked Pandora.

  “After my dear Edward passed, it was all too much for me—the care of such an estate. And the memories. I miss the good times, my dear. But I was ready to say farewell to the house.” Granny James gazed across the room. “I suppose I went completely in the opposite direction when I bought this house. I love Santorini, you know. I wanted to imitate it.” She looked at Marietta. “Your sweet cottage inspired me. It worked in that small, vintage space. But here, it’s all a bit overwhelming. I’ll have to find someone to help me work things out.”

  Hearing this comment, Linnea’s thoughts took flight. She slowly sipped from her drink to calm her excitement, tasting the lime at her lips. Did she dare…? She decided to take the bold chance.

  “I might know someone,” she began.

  Granny James’s pale-blue eyes focused on her. “Do tell.”

  “My mother, Julia Rutledge, has a small, private decorating business. She doesn’t advertise. She only works with a very select clientele.” She let
her gaze sweep the room. “I think this is exactly the kind of house she’d love to work with. She shares your color sense, and your love of light.” Her lips twitched. “And white. I’m prejudiced, but I think she’s very good.”

  “Are there houses she’s done that I could see?” Granny James asked. “A portfolio?”

  Linnea licked her lips and smiled. “Yes.”

  Marietta picked up a card and asked, “Didn’t she decorate Milly’s house on East Bay?”

  “Yes, she did,” Linnea said.

  Marietta leaned across the table and said to Granny James, “Oh, she’s very good.”

  Granny nodded, then turned to face Linnea. “Well, that’s that. I’d love to meet her.” Granny James beamed and lifted her glass in a toast. She turned to Marietta. “Isn’t this providential?”

  Marietta clinked glasses and sipped. Then she picked up a card and began to sort them. A cat’s smile eased across her face. “Gin!”

  “What?” Imogen brought her nose close to the cards to inspect.

  Turning to the girls, Marietta said, “Come learn how to play, girls. I’m about to give this old girl a proper trouncing.”

  Chapter Ten

  Local fishers, coastal communities, businesses, and the tourism industry are already seeing the negative effects of climate change. This means the destruction of coastal and marine ecosystems threatens the security of around 40 percent of the world population.

  CHEZ NOUS WAS nestled in a Charleston single house in the heart of town. The small French restaurant had quickly become a favorite of Cara and David’s. The maître d’ smiled and welcomed them when they arrived and escorted them to a marble-topped bistro table in a private corner of the garden. Quickly, a wine list was provided.

  David held out her seat, then sat across from her. The night was heavily scented with jasmine, creating an intoxicatingly balmy atmosphere. Candles flickered on the table, covered with the white linen. She reached up to smooth back her dark hair, letting her fingers glide to her ear to check the large pearl there. Her other hand rested on the table, the sizable oval diamond catching shards of candlelight.

  “Would you like a cocktail?” David asked.

  “No, just wine for me, thank you.”

  As though bidden, the waiter showed up, and after a brief consultation, David ordered champagne to start the evening.

  “Champagne? What’s the occasion?” asked Cara.

  “Do I need an occasion? I celebrate every night I’m with you.” He held back the smile that reached his eyes. “But, if you insist on an occasion, how about my returning home?”

  “I’ll drink to that. I missed you. How was England?”

  “It rained.” David looked up as the waiter delivered the flutes of wine.

  Cara looked at the handwritten menu card, squinting in the dim light. She could hardly make out the elaborate script, yet she knew that whatever she chose, the food would be delicious. She finally settled on a melon salad, red snapper and roasted fennel with rice croquettes, and lemon mousse for dessert. David had the trout and he chose a crisp chardonnay to accompany the fish. With the food ordered, they could relax and catch up.

  It was a lazy-paced evening. The food arrived as they talked. David had been in Europe for ten days checking on the business he was invested in, one of a few entrepreneurial enterprises he’d become involved in since he’d retired from his law practice. He liked to claim that he was able to squeeze a few jobs in between his babysitting work. In truth, his business abroad was expanding, and he was in Europe more often.

  “Actually, speaking of England,” he said, cutting his salad, “I’d like to talk to you about something.” His hands stilled, and something about his tone made her look across the table into his dark-brown eyes. They were suddenly more serious. “It’s becoming clear I’ll need to go to London more often in the next year as we expand. I was hoping you could come with me. And Hope, of course.”

  Cara released a smile of relief that here was nothing ominous to discuss. “I’d love to. For how long?”

  “It will vary. A week at a time. The visits will be short but more frequent for a while. But I’ll have to stay a couple weeks during the merger. Maybe a month.”

  “A month? But my job… I can’t just tell them I’m going to be gone for a month.”

  David picked up his glass and swirled the wine. “How long do you think you’ll continue working?”

  “After we’re married?” She shrugged. “Indefinitely,” she replied. She set down her tableware. “David, did you expect me to quit my job at the aquarium after we’re married?”

  He set his wineglass on the table and said carefully, “You won’t have to work.”

  “I might want to work.”

  “Of course,” he quickly replied, meeting her gaze. “If you wish. I just… You always say that you want to spend more time with Hope.”

  “Yes,” she said, stumbling in her thoughts. “I do.” She wasn’t prepared for this discussion. Before Hope, there would have been no decision to make. Her job had always taken priority. But life after Hope had changed everything. Her priorities had shifted. Cara was not as definitive about her wants and goals as she had once been. Suddenly she was on a slippery slope. “I don’t know,” she replied at length. “I have to think about it. I love my job. But, yes… I do want to enjoy time with Hope.”

  “I would like to make that possible for you.”

  “David, you know I’ve never been the kind of southern woman my mother was, or her mother before her—for generations.” She paused and looked down. “Or your first wife.” She raised her gaze to see his face grow solemn. “You always described Leslie as the perfect wife. The perfect mother for Heather. She single-handedly raised your daughter. Decorated the house, had glorious gardens. Heather told me she was prominent in the Junior League. Worked for many charities.”

  “Cara, I never wanted you to be anything but who you are.”

  Cara put her fingertips to her temples. “I know, but… who am I?” she asked. She looked at David, hoping she could make him understand. “I’ve always been an academic. A worker bee. More inclined to carve out a path in the working world than in the social one. In truth, I was more like my father than my mother. Perhaps that’s why I was such a disappointment to him. As a female, in his eyes I had failed. I had more the mind for business than his son had.”

  “He was a fool,” David said abruptly. Then, “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re right. He lived by the old patriarchal rules. I wasn’t the only one who suffered. Poor Palmer,” she said with a sorry shake of her head. “When I adopted Hope, I told myself I wouldn’t raise my child to be bound by those old gender definitions. And yet, as a mother, I find myself racked with guilt for trying to be a breadwinner and a mother both. I don’t know how so many women manage it alone. I rationalized my guilt at leaving Hope for work. I needed to support us.” She took a sip of wine and replaced the glass on the table. “I’ve complained that I’m missing Hope’s best years. I know that. How many times have I told you that I wished I could stay home with her?”

  “Many.”

  Cara looked across the garden. The fairy lights had flicked on in the trees, and candles glowed on the small garden tables. What did she want now, at this point in her life? David was offering her the opportunity to make her wish of staying home with Hope a reality. The time had come for her to decide if she really wanted to stay home. She hated to admit, even to herself, that she didn’t know if she had the temperament for it. Playing with dolls or toys sent her spiraling into boredom.

  “I honestly don’t know what I want to do.”

  “Darling, you don’t have to decide now.”

  “But I do have to consider it now. Our marriage does change things,” she said, as much to herself as to him. “More than I’ve given enough thought to. Why, just what you offered tonight is pretty earth-shattering.” She put her hands out. “To live in Europe part-time?” She dropped her hands. “I do have to a
dmit,” she added, “that travel would be educational for Hope. And for me. I’ve traveled very little in my life. I’m embarrassed to say I’ve never been to Europe.”

  “I know. I’d like to be the one to show it to you.”

  She sighed. The man made loving him so easy. “Once Hope is in school, we’ll have to stay in one place, of course. The schools don’t let parents whisk their children out of school.”

  “More’s the pity. Travel is good for children.”

  “So is keeping up in schoolwork.”

  “All the more reason for us to travel now. After she’s in school,” David continued, “we will work around her schedule. This might be our only window to live abroad. I think it could be a wonderful experience for us as a family. We’ll depend on each other with no one else around. New customs, new traditions. Just think about it.” He rested his hands on the table and caught her gaze. “I don’t like to be separated from you for too long.”

  She met his gaze over the table.

  The waiter appeared and discreetly removed the dishes. After he left, Cara asked David, “You realize when we move out of your house, we will need a new nanny?”

  “Afraid so. I don’t think Heather will let go of Cami.”

  “Did you tell her? About us moving out?”

  David nodded. “I told Heather all about our decision not to live on Dewees.”

  She waited for him to elaborate, picking up her glass of wine. When he didn’t, she finished the last sip with a single gulp. “David,” she said placing the glass on the table. “What did she say? Was she upset?”

  “Not upset as much as surprised,” he replied. “But then…”

  His reply was interrupted by the arrival of dessert. David ordered an espresso, Cara a cappuccino.

  She picked up her spoon and dipped into the lemon mousse. It was sweet and tart.

  “You were saying?” she prompted.

  “You know I love the Dewees house,” he said, digging into his apple tart. “And I love the island.”

  “Of course.”

  “You and I won’t live in it after we’re married,” he continued. He let his fork rest. “But I’ve decided that I don’t want to sell it.”

 

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