Lowcountry Summer eBoxed Set

by Mary Alice Monroe

  “Oh, Dora,” Mamaw murmured under her breath, ready to strangle Winnie for her callousness. Horrible woman. How could a mother tell a young girl such a thing? Dora turned to look beyond Mamaw at Carson. “You know what the craziest part is? I didn’t hate him. I hated you because you were the one that Daddy loved best. He kept you with him and left Harper and me behind.”

  “Loved me? He only dragged me along so I’d take care of him.”

  “Carson,” Mamaw said sharply, interrupting her. “That’s not true. He wanted you with him. You didn’t have a mother to keep you, like the others did.”

  “I had you,” she said, her voice breaking. “I wanted to stay with you. I begged you to keep me, but you wouldn’t.”

  Mamaw gasped at the heartbreak she heard in Carson’s accusation. “I would have loved to keep you with me. I wanted to. What could I do?” she cried. “You were his daughter!”

  “No!” Carson cried. “That wasn’t the reason you let me go. You could never say no to him.” Tears threatened. “Not even for me.”

  Mamaw’s hands flew to her cheeks. “You can’t believe that! Parker . . . he loved you,” she said in halting words. “All of you.”

  “Did he?” Carson shrugged, sniffing and swiping away the tears from her cheeks. She shook her head wretchedly. “Maybe. I don’t know. He tried. But you know what? I don’t care if he did. He was a terrible father. A ne’er-do-well, a lazy bum—”

  “Carson, stop it,” Dora snapped. “Daddy wasn’t all that.”

  “How would you know?” Carson fired back. “You never saw him except when he flew back home to walk you down the aisle.” She leaned forward, skewering Dora with a direct gaze. “Don’t you remember how you said you didn’t want him to walk you down the aisle because you were afraid that he’d be so drunk he wouldn’t make it without falling on his ass? He knew that, you know. And it hurt him.”

  Dora blanched, remembering.

  Mamaw felt like she was shriveling inside. She couldn’t catch her breath.

  Harper spoke up. “The only time I ever saw him was at Dora’s wedding. I was only fourteen. I was so nervous and happy at the same time at the prospect of seeing him. But when he arrived at the church, even I could tell he was drunk. Just like my mother told me he’d be. I remember Granddaddy was so angry at him. Later, at the reception, I had to meet him. I mean, he was my father. So I stalked him. I found him leaning against the wall in the back hall. He spotted me and came up to me, smiling. My stomach was in knots and I had this dream that he’d hug me and tell me how much he loved me. When he got close he just stood there and stared at me, weaving a little on his feet while I smiled so hard my cheeks hurt. He just sneered at me and said, ‘You look just like your mother.’ ”

  Harper paused, her face pained at the memory. “I’ll never forget it, the venom behind the words. He made it sound like it was the worst thing he could’ve said. Like it was a curse and he despised the sight of me. He just walked off. I never saw him again.” She wiped the tears from her face with trembling fingertips. “Not quite the sentiment a young girl dreams of hearing from her father.”

  As the young women argued and rehashed painful memories, Mamaw put her hand to her chest. She felt the weight of years pressing. It hurt her to hear her granddaughters spell out Parker’s faults so bluntly and with such rancor. She stared at the guttering candles while steadying her breath. Wax melted down the stooping tapers onto the crystal and linen. She didn’t know if she could clean up this mess. Mamaw gripped the arms of her chair and rose unsteadily to her feet.

  “I need some air,” she said weakly.

  Immediately all discussion ceased and Carson and Dora were on their feet, holding on to her arms. Mamaw couldn’t look at them; she was too upset. “I have to get out of this dress.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Mamaw sat nestled in the thick cushions of the black wicker chair on the porch. Looking up, she felt comforted at the sight of the classic South Carolina crescent moon with a vividly bright Venus hovering near. Around them, more stars sparkled like fireflies, creating a moody nightglow. Lucille had helped her change out of the ridiculously constricting dress. She was shocked to find pink marks on her body from the stays that would surely bruise.

  Now she was free to breathe in her flowing robe. She should have known better than to try to squeeze into a dress she’d worn back when she had a waistline. Her vanity had always been a burden. She stared out at the blackness and pondered how the dinner conversation had taken such an ugly turn. Emotions had flared much more strongly than she’d anticipated. A wildfire burning out of control . . .

  The sound of creaking wood alerted her to someone’s coming. She looked over her shoulder and saw a woman’s silhouette approaching carrying a bottle and two glasses.

  “Do you want more wine?” Carson asked her as she drew near.

  “Heavens no, child,” Mamaw replied, still feeling lightheaded. “I can’t drink another drop. The days of late-night carousing are long over for me. I have to worry about staying hydrated.”

  Carson set the two glasses and bottle on the table, took the chair beside Mamaw, and reached out for her hand.

  “Mamaw, I’m so sorry for my outburst earlier. It was wrong and rude and I was raised better.”

  “Don’t apologize to me. It’s I who should apologize to you. I should have been more aware, more attentive. When I think of what you went through the night your father died . . .”

  Carson closed her eyes tight. “You did your best.”

  “I daresay we all did,” Mamaw said.

  Carson’s face revealed gratitude for her understanding.

  “But so much anger! I didn’t know you carried such a burden.”

  “It all just burst out,” Carson said. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I didn’t mean to ruin your party.”

  Mamaw waved that comment away. “Party . . . We’re family. Don’t trouble yourself about that.”

  “But I do. I couldn’t stop. I don’t know whether it was just because I’m in such a sorry place now or because I wanted my sisters to know the truth about what it was like out in California with him. To hear Dora say she thought we lived the life of the rich and famous. I had to rip away that veil and show them the true sad spectacle.”

  “I wish you’d have told me sooner how bad your living situation had become. I would have brought you home. Here.”

  “It’s too late to change things now,” Carson said in a fatalistic tone. “My life isn’t here anymore, Mamaw. California is my home.”

  “Is it?” Mamaw asked.

  “It’s where my work is.”

  “Is it?” Mamaw asked again.

  Carson just shook her head. “I loved him,” she said in a hushed whisper. “I really loved him, despite everything.”

  Mamaw’s heart was fit to break. “I know,” she said, her voice trembling. “I did, too.”

  The screen door slammed and two more women joined them on the porch. Mamaw leaned back in her chair to collect herself while Carson quickly wiped her cheeks, then reached to the table to pour herself a glass of wine, right to the brim.

  Harper handed Mamaw a glass.

  “No more wine for me,” Mamaw exclaimed.

  “Me neither,” Harper said. “This is water.”

  “Bless you,” Mamaw said, and took a thirsty sip. She waited while Dora and Harper grabbed two of the oversized black wicker chairs and dragged them closer to form a circle. Mamaw smiled, amused to see the girls in their nightwear but still wearing their pearl necklaces. Even their pajamas were different, reflecting their personalities. Harper looked sleek and elegant in her gray silk sheath and three-strand choker. Dora’s opera-length pearls draped over her long, mauve granny gown. Mamaw couldn’t be sure in the dim light, but it looked like Carson’s black pearls hung above yoga pants and a camisole.

  Dora bent to light the large candle in the middle of the table. “We look like a coven,” she said.

  “The three witches,
” Harper added wryly.

  Mamaw was relieved to see them all trying to lighten the mood after the earlier explosions, but a thinly veiled tension still hovered in the air.

  “Mamaw,” said Carson gently, reaching out from the chair beside her to touch her hand. “How are you feeling? Do you want to go to bed?”

  “No,” she replied, realizing that this second gathering was, for her, a second chance. “I’m a little tired but I’m old; that’s to be expected. There’s been too much excitement today. And perhaps too much to drink.”

  “Do you want more water?” asked Dora, shifting to rise.

  “No, no, stay. I don’t need a thing. Really, my dears, I’m fine now that I’m free from that dress. But you must all remember to drink plenty of water while you’re here. Stay hydrated. Or you’ll get the worst lines on your face.”

  The girls started laughing, and though it was at her expense, this time Mamaw didn’t mind. “Don’t laugh!” she admonished them. “Someday you’ll look in the mirror and see all those lines and crevices and wish you’d listened to dear Granny’s advice.”

  “We’re listening!” Carson said, still chuckling.

  Mamaw leaned forward and said in a forced whisper, “If any of you can get out of Lucille her secret recipe for keeping her face so smooth, I’ll reward you handsomely!”

  “You’re on,” Carson replied.

  “I don’t know,” Dora said dubiously. “She’s pretty tight with her recipes. I’ve been trying to get her gumbo recipe for years.”

  “The old crone,” Mamaw said, settling back in her cushion.

  The women all chuckled softly; then Harper continued in a more reflective tone, “Mamaw, I don’t mean to pry into your business, but we were talking in the kitchen—and we wondered, are you financially okay? Do you need our help?”

  “Oh, dear girls, aren’t you as sweet as sugar? Of all the things you have to worry about, to worry about me? That’s very touching but unnecessary. My greatest glory is that I won’t be a burden to you. I don’t have a mind for figures, but I do have good advisers who have helped me with estate planning. And of course Edward was very conscientious when it came to banking. I’ve settled my affairs so that I can move into a retirement community, and once I’m in”—she laughed—“I won’t leave again till the Lord calls me home.”

  “And that won’t be for a very long time, we pray,” Dora said.

  “Do keep praying,” Mamaw said. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m only explaining, not very well, I fear, why I’m selling Sea Breeze.” She paused. Now she was moving on to the things she’d intended to discuss.

  “I wish I could leave it to you, but . . .” Mamaw looked from one granddaughter to the next. “Naturally, if any of you have any desire to purchase Sea Breeze, I will do everything I can to make that possible.” She paused but there were no comments forthcoming, nor had she expected any. None of the girls was in a financial position to buy any house, much less one that cost the staggering amount Sea Breeze was worth.

  “After you, I’ll contact the extended family members. With the increased taxes, the skyrocketing insurance premiums . . .” She sighed. “I don’t know if anyone can buy it or even wants to. I would, of course, like to keep the house in the family. But if there’s no interest, I’ll be forced to contact a real estate agent and let the house fall into strangers’ hands.” She sighed and clasped her hands in her lap. “It can’t be helped.”

  “When?” asked Carson, stricken.

  “Sometime in the fall, I imagine.”

  When no one spoke, Mamaw continued. “Which brings me to the next topic. Since the house will be sold, I must deaccess some of the more important family pieces. Here’s what I propose.” She looked around to discover that all the girls’ eyes were shining with interest.

  “I would like each of you to list the item that you most want to have. The one item you are desperate for, more than any of the others. I want to be sure you each take something from the house that you love.”

  “There are so many pretty pieces,” Dora said eagerly. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

  “You’ve already begun!” Carson teased. “I’ve caught you snooping around the house, checking out the goods already.”

  Dora’s cheeks colored. “I was not! I haven’t, Mamaw!” she sputtered.

  “Oh, come now, Dora,” Harper teased. “Even I’ve seen you lift the porcelains to check the provenance.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with education,” Dora blustered. “What about you?”

  “Please . . .” Harper said with an air of condescension.

  “Don’t go all English royal on me. You’re always on that computer. Are you Googling Early American furniture, hmmm?”

  Harper barked out a laugh. “Hardly. But come to think of it . . .” she said, and her eyes sparkled with mirth. She turned to Carson and wagged her finger. “I saw you checking out the prices of vintage Cadillacs!”

  Carson’s mouth dropped open. “That’s because I’m hoping to buy the car from Mamaw. It’s a business transaction. I have to know its current value.”

  “Uh-huh.” Harper rolled her eyes. “I’m sure.”

  “And your eyes didn’t practically fall out of their sockets when you saw Mamaw’s diamond earrings?” Dora asked.

  Harper had the grace to laugh. “Score. They are amazing. I do so love nature’s vintage carbon products.” She turned shrewd eyes toward Mamaw. “That ring you wore tonight caught my fancy. Is that open for the grab?”

  “No!” Dora sat straight and almost shouted the word. “That’s a family ring! It’s always given to the Muir sons to give to their wives. By that virtue, the ring will go to Nate. He is the only male heir.”

  “So far,” Carson countered. “What makes you think we’re not going to have sons?”

  “Well,” Dora said primly, “you are thirty-four and you don’t even have a boyfriend.”

  “My eggs are fine, thank you very much,” Carson said dangerously.

  Harper said smugly, “Well, cool your jets, sisters. I’m only twenty-eight and I’ve got plenty of boyfriends. I’m putting that ring as my number one.”

  “You can’t!” Dora fumed. “It was given to my mother, and she had the decency to return it to Mamaw after the divorce. It’s only right that the ring go to my son.”

  “Dora,” Mamaw said in a tone that immediately silenced her. “Your mother received a hefty settlement after the divorce on the condition that she return the ring. So I’ll hear no more about her noble intentions. As for the other wives . . .” She shifted in her seat like she was sitting on a burr. “I mean no disrespect to the dead”—she looked at Carson—“but neither of the other two women deserved the ring and I told Parker that. The ring is mine. And I happen to like it. Whichever decision I make, it will be mine and mine alone. Is that understood?”

  There were hesitant nods all around.

  Mamaw continued in a firm tone, “My dears, you needn’t worry about me. I’ve always managed to take care of myself. Each of you will likewise have to make your own way in this world. I can, however, offer you this advice: Friends come and go. But through the thick and thin, the good and bad, you can only ever count on your family.” Mamaw took a breath, feeling more in control again. “That’s the heart of it. Family.” She searched their faces, pleased to see she had their full attention. “Which leads me to my next point.”

  “There’s more?” Harper muttered under her breath.

  “Yes, Harper dear,” Mamaw said pointedly, “there’s one bit more. I’ve given this a great deal of thought, so I hope you don’t think what I’m about to say is the rambling of an eccentric old woman. It worries me—deeply—that we, the last of the Muirs, are not as close as we once were, at least not as close as we were during our summers here at Sea Breeze. We’ve become strangers. I’ve thought about what I could do to rekindle that spark of family in us before Sea Breeze is sold and we all go off to the four points of the earth.”


  “It was never Sea Breeze that brought me to Sullivan’s Island,” Harper said. “Frankly, I’m not a big fan of Sea Breeze. It’s perfectly nice, don’t get me wrong, but it’s always been you, Mamaw, that I came to see. And my sisters.” She smiled shyly.

  Mamaw sat back in her chair, momentarily thrown by this comment. She glanced at Dora and Carson and saw that their expressions reflected agreement.

  “I’m so very glad to hear that,” she said slowly. “But I fear, more deeply than ever, that once I’m gone, the connection of Muir family blood will truly dissipate.”

  “I don’t want to think of you dying,” Carson said.

  “I can’t live forever,” Mamaw said with a gentle laugh. “No one can. But once I’m gone, what will become of my family? That is the worry that keeps me up at night. So!” she said, slapping her thighs with her palms. “I’ve a plan. I’m asking each of you to spend the entire summer at Sea Breeze. Our last summer. What do you say?”

  Carson leaned back in her chair and shrugged. “You know what I say.”

  Dora inched forward on her seat. “I always come for two weeks in July. I suppose I can try and extend it another week or two, if you wish.”

  “I’m sorry, Mamaw. I can’t possibly stay here for a whole month, much less a summer,” Harper said incredulously. “I don’t even get a month’s vacation! I’m sorry, Mamaw. I appreciate the invitation, I truly do. But this weekend is all I can swing. Believe me, it was tough enough. But we have this weekend, don’t we?” she added, trying to spin a positive note.

  Mamaw slowly leaned back in her chair and clasped her hands together. “I don’t think I made myself clear,” she said. “I’d hoped you’d all be delighted to accept my invitation to spend the summer. But, as it appears that is not happening, I must tell you that I’m not merely inviting you. The invitation that you stay at Sea Breeze for the summer is, well”—she tapped her fingertips against each other—“more a stipulation.” She stilled her hands.

  “Of what?” Dora asked.