Carolina Mercy (A Southern Breeze Series Book 2)

by Regina Rudd Merrick

  “I’ll bet. Lucy is a good friend.”

  “She’s the best a girl could have. She made me get out and about, helped me find and move into my house, and fixed me up with the assistant coach.” With the last phrase, she poked him in the ribs and giggled when he jumped.

  “You could have gone all day without mentioning that again.” Jared pulled her into his arms for a tender kiss. It reverenced her, but teased, as well. When they pulled apart, her eyes were shining.

  Sarah looked at her phone when she heard the “ding” of notification. A text from Lucy. “In SC. Stopped for a break. See you @5.”

  She looked up at Jared. “Lucy’s on schedule. Check us out for supper?”

  “Who’s cooking?” He winked at her.

  “Funny guy. I’ll have peanut butter on hand if it’s not up to your standards.” She raised an eyebrow, daring him to say something.

  “I will look forward to a feast of culinary greatness.”

  Chapter Three

  A police detective in a small tourist town was not what Tom had envisioned for himself when he graduated from high school. His original plan was to join the Air Force, much to the dismay of Jared’s father, an Army man through and through. He would graduate from Clemson, do a stint in the Air Force, then join either the FBI or NCIS. Either would do. It would marry his love of organization and leadership to crime-fighting, but on a higher level than he could ever hope to achieve, even in the state police or state-level bureau of investigation systems.

  He drove down the boulevard that was State Road 17 that ran from Pawley’s Island to past Murrells Inlet, observing the travelers rubbernecking as they looked for a good place to eat along the main drag. Tapping on his steering wheel, he thought of Lucy. She was arriving today. Might already be here.

  And what was he going to do about it?

  Nothing.

  He’d go to his ancestral home, make sure his sister Charlotte had plenty of groceries, check on his mom, and get the yard mowed. Typical Saturday for him.

  At least for the last year it had been. There wasn’t as much to mow these days, fortunately or unfortunately.

  He drove up the gravel drive, more sand than gravel, to the old house. It wasn’t so much “broken-down aristocracy” as the kind of house regular people lived in. If you lived in 1854. He was proud of the house and embarrassed by it at the same time. His mother was always a spotless housekeeper, but these days things always looked a little disheveled, as if no one had been home in a long time. His mother’s housekeeping skills gave his sister little hope of ever feeling like she measured up. She always joked that in the housekeeping department, Tom was their mother’s favorite daughter. This only pleased him when they had a bake-off and his biscuits turned out taller and fluffier than hers. That was before the changes came to their happy household.

  It looked like he was going to have to get the trimming done today.

  Arriving at the house, Jared was finishing putting the large, zero-turn mower on the trailer behind his SUV. Tom approached his best friend. “What’s going on here, bud?”

  Jared climbed down off the trailer and sat down on the side bar. “I had a couple of hours to kill and thought I’d give you a hand.”

  Tom raked his hand over his face. “Aw, Jared, you know you didn’t—”

  “I know, Tom. I also know Sarah’s going nuts getting ready for Lucy and her family coming, and I thought the better part of valor was to help you out instead of being in the way.”

  “Or getting roped into something like china patterns?” Tom grinned. He and Jared had been friends since high school, and nothing either of them had been through could change that. “Thanks, Jared. Did you see Mom?”

  “I did. She fussed, too, but when I told her they were trying to make me decide which shade of pink tulle would be best for the underskirt of the punch table, she laughed. She seems better today.”

  “Want something to drink?”

  “I wouldn’t turn it down. I saw Charly earlier. She said she had something to tell you.”

  They walked side by side onto the wrap-around porch and to the side door.

  Concern washed over him. His little sister had recently graduated from high school, and since the death of their father, they had been so busy grieving and keeping the home fires burning that there had been a wall between them. Being a man didn’t help. When she needed a dad, all she had was a brother. He knew the day would come when she would leave them. And then who would help Mom? And who was he to expect her to stay?

  “Tom!” Charlotte Livingston’s long, blonde hair whipped around as she turned, bowl in hand. Setting it down, she wiped her hands on a nearby towel and held her finger up. “Don’t move.” She ran into the other room.

  “Okay.” Tom looked at Jared. “Did she say what it was about?”

  “Not a clue. Seems pretty excited, though.”

  “Yeah. Wonder how much that excitement is gonna cost me?”

  “Thomas Sumter Livingston, it’s not going to cost you one red cent, you hear me.” She had entered the room behind him, and Tom had the grace to look sheepish.

  “Sorry, Charly. I was kidding. You know that.”

  “No, and I’m in too good a mood to let you mess with me now. Look at this.” She handed him a piece of paper on Coastal Carolina University letterhead. “Read it.”

  He took the paper, surprised that it was addressed to their mother.

  “They’re offering you a full ride?” He looked at her, his mouth slack. “To study Special Education? I thought you wanted to go into broadcasting?”

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want to do with my life, especially since Mom started losing her sight. I started noticing kids at school having trouble with different things. Sometimes they have learning disabilities, and other times it’s a health issue. Like the girl who graduated with me, with MS, or the guy a year behind me who got hit with a baseball, it messed with his vision and hearing, and had to have special accommodations while he healed up.”

  “But—”

  “I know, you thought I wanted to go to Clemson, like you, big brother.”

  “Well, yeah.” He peered at her closely. Had his baby sister turned into a woman overnight?

  “Listen. I need to be here. Mom needs me. You need me. I can commute to Myrtle Beach every day if I need to and be home in the evenings to help Mom. I can’t just leave.”

  Jared looked like he felt a little out of place. “Listen, I’ll—”

  “Don’t you move, buster. I need you to take my side against him.” Charlotte linked her arm in his and squeezed. “I have two big brothers, you know. How I would have survived childhood without both of you, I’ll never know.”

  “I’m not going to argue about this. One question. Are you sure?” Tom leaned both hands on the kitchen table and bent to her level, looking her straight in the eyes.

  “I’m sure.”

  Jared shook his head and blinked his eyes. “Hey, if there’s anything I’ve learned, especially in the last year, when a lady is sure, you don’t mess with her.” He cut his eyes to Charlotte and gave her a wink, grinning when she smiled back.

  “Does Mom know?”

  “Not yet. I wanted to run it by you first.”

  “Come here.” Tom held out his arms, and Charlotte went into them, hugging her brother around the waist as he cradled her head against his shoulder. At five foot four inches, she was a full foot shorter than he.

  “Let’s go see Mom.”

  “But, sweetie, I thought your dream was to be on TV?” Mary Ann Livingston leaned forward from her seat on the sofa, her hands wringing together, confused.

  “I know, Mom, but I’ve learned a lot the last few years.”

  “You can’t live your life around what’s happened to me, sweetheart. My being blind doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice your dreams to stay and take care of me. I’ll be fine. I’m getting around better all the time.”

  “Mama, you don’t understand.” C
harlotte took her mother’s hands and squeezed them. “I’m doing this because I think it’s what God wants me to do, not because it’s what I think you want me to do or need me to do. He’s in control, not me, not you, and not Tom.”

  “It’s just such a shock.”

  “I know. To tell you the truth, the last few news anchors they’ve hired on the local station have made me rethink that whole line of work. I mean, I’m smarter than that, you know?”

  The huffy look on her face made Tom burst into laughter. The sound of his laughing made their mother smile.

  “Well, that’s never been in question.” Mary Ann kept Charlotte’s hand in hers and reached for Tom’s. “Jared, if I had a third hand, I’d pull you in here, too, you know.”

  “I know, Ms. Livingston. You’ve got two great kids.”

  Tom looked at his friend and sent him a crooked grin when he noticed the mist in his eyes. He knew Jared missed his folks. But at least he had them to miss. He would miss his dad every day of his life.

  “I guess this means we prepare you for commuting instead of dorm life?”

  “I guess so.” Charlotte stopped and shook her head. “Wow. It’s really happening. I’ve been doing so much research online of different programs and this one seemed to fill the bill. I can help kids or adults, and Mom, do you know what the best part is?”

  “What’s that?” Mary Ann’s sightless eyes didn’t move, but her eyebrows quirked up in curiosity.

  “I get to try out all the vision accommodations on you!”

  She patted her daughter’s hand and grinned ruefully, her dry wit floating to the surface. “Well, dear, at least you’re not training to be a brain surgeon.”

  Chapter Four

  Lucy drove up to Sarah’s little, pink beach bungalow and breathed a sigh of relief. She’d been involved in her own version of Jacob’s wrestle with the Lord for the last four hours, and she was ready to change topics.

  As soon as she stepped onto the porch, Sarah flung the door open and wrapped her in a fierce hug. “You’re here! You’re finally here!”

  “I am, and I’m beat.” Her stomach growled loudly. “I guess I don’t have to tell you what my next question is?”

  “I’ve got a chicken casserole on the stove, waiting for you.” Sarah went with Lucy to retrieve her things from the car. “Didn’t you stop between here and Atlanta?”

  Lucy snorted. “Only once. Cola and chocolate break at a rest stop.”

  “That definitely does not count. Put your stuff in the guest room and come to the kitchen. I’ll get you fixed up.”

  “I have one question.”

  “What’s that, Luce?”

  “Who are you and what have you done with my non-cooking best friend?”

  Jared arrived as Sarah was putting the casserole on the table. As he was leaning in to kiss his fiancée, Lucy walked into the kitchen with a sigh and grinned.

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

  “I followed my nose. How are you, Lucy?”

  “I’m fine, and it’s probably more likely you followed your stomach. Am I right?”

  “You are. You know, once Sarah started practicing on me, she found out she was a pretty good cook.”

  Sarah looked pointedly at Lucy. “I’ll never be a Lydia Mitchell.”

  Lucy shrugged and shook her head sadly. “Who will?”

  Jared raised his eyebrows, and the girls burst out laughing. “Who is Lydia Mitchell?”

  “She’s the home economics teacher where Sarah and I used to work. Did you know she’s dating Ben again?”

  Sarah stopped laughing. “Okay, hold on. First, I know I used to work at Summerville High, but I thought you still did?”

  Lucy had the grace to look sheepish. “Well, with all the stuff to do with Dad’s estate, I decided to take a leave this year. I haven’t decided if I’m going back or not. I have a lot of thinking and praying to do.”

  “I understand. But there was a second thing. What about Ben? When we were there for the funeral, I thought you and Ben were dating?” Sarah narrowed her eyes. “I know Tom thought so too.”

  Lucy chewed on her bottom lip before answering. “Ben was great. Don’t get me wrong. I missed you terribly, and then there was the whole ‘Tom’ thing, so we dated for a little while. After Dad died, I broke it off. I knew it wasn’t going anywhere, and I didn’t want to lead him on. And I could tell he was too much of a traditional male to put up with me. I mean, I’m not going to cook two pounds of meat every day, along with potatoes and gravy. Honestly. Can you imagine what a diet like that would do to me?”

  Sarah laughed out loud. “He does like to eat, doesn’t he? Well, maybe Lydia can drag him down the path to matrimony and healthy eating. But are you okay with it? I mean, you broke up with him, right?”

  Lucy’s smile was tender as she looked into the concerned eyes of her friends. “Oh yes. I’m great with it. After Dad died . . . well, I knew it wouldn’t work. That’s all.”

  “That’s all?” Sarah glanced at her sideways.

  Lucy avoided Sarah’s probing gaze. She grabbed a napkin and put it in her lap as Sarah took her seat.

  “That’s all.”

  Tom wiped his hands on a greasy rag. The oil in Charly’s car had been changed and the tires checked. He shook his head.

  There was no way he was going to let his little sister commute to CCU in the rust-bucket she affectionately called “Rachel.” Yes, it was only 35 miles, but a 1978 Olds Caprice, while great at hauling teenagers up and down the road to the beach, was not the most economical or safe mode of transportation to his way of thinking. His dad would laugh at him. “Drive it into the ground. You won’t wear this baby out!”

  Tom grinned as he thought of his fun-loving dad. Hayden Livingston kept them all laughing, no matter the circumstance. He wouldn’t have thought twice about sending his youngest chick to school with a 250,000-mile-vehicle.

  His attention shifted to the side bay of the shed. There she was, his dad’s 1956 sky-blue Ford Thunderbird. It hadn’t been moved or started since his dad died. It was his “courtin’ car,” he had said, and was old when he got it and started working on it. He always said it would be a lifetime project to get it back in shape to drive, but he was up for it. Little did he know his lifetime was shorter than that of the classic automobile.

  But he wasn’t his dad, and he was the man of the family, now. Tinkering and rebuilding the engine on his sister’s car was not a priority for him. Maybe he was too protective, but his mother was in no position to advise him. Tonight he was going to start doing research. His sister might be attached to “Rachel,” but she was going to be replaced with a newer model. Maybe a “Monica,” or a “Caitlin?”

  “Tom? You out there?” His mother called from the back porch.

  “Yeah, Mom, do you need me?”

  “No, but come in when you get done, please?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Be there in a minute.”

  Tom sighed. He loved his mother, and she wanted so badly to be independent. The blindness that gradually overtook her weighed on her mental state as well as her physical coordination and general health. Dad could have handled it much better. Making Mom smile was what his dad loved to do more than anything. The disease that took her vision in tandem with the loss of her husband had taken the smile away except for brief glimpses. More often, yes, but not often enough.

  He dropped the heavy hood down on the front of the car and pushed the side down that tended not to catch ever since the minor fender-bender Charly had been involved in at the Food Lion parking lot where she worked part-time. He placed the containers of used motor oil in a box in the trunk of his car for disposal and pitched the used filter in the trash when he took the funnel to the garage. Everywhere he looked, Dad had left his mark: the outlines of tools on the pegboard, all the tools here and there on the bench below it. He would get to it eventually. It messed with his idea of tidiness, but at least it was, for the most part, out-of-sight, and out-of-min
d.

  Jared’s helping with the mowing was a God-send. Since he didn’t have to mow, he was able to work on the car. As he made his way to the house, he surveyed the property in the glow of a setting sun. It was pretty. The columns on the front of the house might be peeling in places, but in this light, in the lengthening shadows of evening, they looked like a movie-magic image of Tara.

  “Thank You, Lord. You gave me a great childhood here. You gave me a family that pointed me to You. Give me the strength to give myself up for You and for them.” His sentimental smile faded when a fleeting thought, or was it a God-whisper, came to him.

  Lucy.

  Did he have to give up everything?

  “Mom, you can’t be serious.” Tom sat at the kitchen table with his mother, his mouth hanging open in shock. “I mean . . . how long . . . we can’t . . .” He knew he was sputtering, but this was out of the blue.

  “Tom. I’ve given this a lot of thought. I know, this is my home place. I can’t hang on to it for sheer sentiment’s sake.”

  Sell the house? The house that once had been in the middle of a 300-acre plantation? Small by plantation standards, but a plantation nonetheless. Part of this house was built before the Revolutionary War.

  “There has to be another way.” Tom knew his mother couldn’t see the pained expression on his face, but he could see the one on hers.

  “I know, sweetie. It’s been in my family for a long time. I don’t want a house to own me, or you. Property can be a blessing or a curse.” Mom groped toward Tom’s voice, reaching for his hand. A touch. Something to ground them both. “I’ve prayed ever since your daddy died, and my sight started going. At first I thought staying here would be easier because I know every inch of the property in the dark. I thought my sight would come back. I thought God wouldn’t take away something else so important to me. I was wrong.”