by Juniper Hart
There will be plenty of time for groveling and apologizing later, she decided. Today is minimally for enjoying the Gulf of Mexico and forgetting about my woes.
She sat up on the worn towel to glance around. Of course, Biloxi Beach was jammed on a July afternoon, but Betty had selected a less populated area—with reeds and grass jutting from the sand—to ensure she would not be bothered by others.
It was difficult not to notice Betty, no matter how much she tried to slink into the shadows and divert attention from herself. She was a strawberry-blonde beauty with vivid green eyes and a sensational figure.
Despite the excess flesh on the beach, Betty easily stood out among the others, as if her dignified aura caught the attention of anyone in the vicinity. Her sweet and demure disposition did not match the potential for fire that seemed to emanate from her lithe frame.
She lowered her cheap sunglasses to the edge of her nose, looking for a drink cart. She was thirsty, and she had drunk her last bottle of water an hour earlier.
Truthfully, Betty didn’t want to spend money on a beverage, but she didn’t see a water fountain nearby to fill her empty bottles of water, and she could not deny that she was parched.
Off in the distance, she saw a young boy pedaling a cart near the road, and she jumped to her feet to catch him before he disappeared into the throng. Betty waved her arms to catch the boy’s attention, but he seemed distracted by another patron approaching, and she relaxed slightly when she realized he wasn’t venturing far.
As she neared the cart, she watched the boy reach into his cooler and retrieve a bottle of water, handing it off to the man who stood just a few feet away.
Betty could almost taste the liquid on her tongue. She jogged forward, her shorts riding down over her flat stomach as she threatened to spill from her simple black bikini top. It was the same swimming attire she’d had for five years, and it was obviously starting to become too small for her, but how could she justify spending money on clothes when there were so many other more pressing needs to be tending to?
The man turned away as Betty drew toward the peddler, smiling softly at the boy.
“Just a bottle of water, please,” she said, her voice gentle. The boy looked pained as he shrugged, pointing at the retreating stranger.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but he just took the last bottle,” he sighed, and Betty stifled a moan of despair.
“Anything will do,” she told him. “Soda? Juice?”
He shook his head and glanced furtively around.
“I have beer,” he offered, but Betty shook her head. The last thing she needed was alcohol.
“It’s all right,” she murmured, disappointed. She would have to use the beach bathrooms and fill up her bottles. The thought made her cringe slightly as she thought about how unkempt the facilities were, but she had a long way to go on the bus before she could get home, and she would never make it without a drink.
“Sorry!” the boy called out as she walked away.
Dejectedly, Betty wandered back toward her towel and began to gather her meager belongings.
All good things must come to an end, she thought wryly, unwilling to let the unexpected hiccup ruin the temporary bliss she had been experiencing. Lacy and Tom are probably having a hard time with Dad, anyway. I shouldn’t have stayed away for so long.
A small flash of guilt coursed through her as she waved the sandy towel free of debris and packed it away in her bag. Perhaps it was best that she just returned home as soon as she could.
“Excuse me.”
Betty half turned at the sound of a voice, and she glanced at an attractive man standing at her back.
His dark brown hair caught hints of auburn in the bright Mississippi sunlight, and he wore no sunglasses, his irises a deep, smoldering grey. His short-sleeved button-down was undone, exposing a six-pack under gleaming bronze skin, and Betty struggle to pull her green eyes away from his incredible physique.
The man had a bemused expression on his face, and Betty had the feeling that she had seen him somewhere before. She was sure she wouldn’t ever forget meeting someone like him, though.
To her amazement, he held out a bottle of water.
“This is for you,” he told her.
Betty’s brow furrowed. “I beg your pardon?” she asked, confused. How could he possibly know I was looking for a bottle of water?
The man offered her a brilliant smile, gesturing for her to take the water, but Betty could not help being suspicious of him, even as she eagerly reached for the bottle in his hands.
“I was the guy who took the last bottle from the cart,” he explained, and she felt a whoosh of relief course through her body.
He’s not some crazy stalker, she realized.
“Oh, I can’t take this then. You need it,” she told him, holding herself back from opening the cap.
The man, however, shook his dark head. “I found another cart further down the beach,” he told her. “This one is all yours.”
Betty continued staring at him, cocking her head to the side as she opened the bottle.
“I—thank you,” she said, glad that a stranger was being so kind to her but unsure of his reasons or intentions.
The man offered her a hand. “I’m Hayden. Hayden Chalmers,” he said.
Betty accepted his palm and nodded.
“Betty,” she replied simply, quickly withdrawing her hand. She focused on the water, taking a big swig in the form of a distraction.
It was not that men did not hit on her. On the contrary, in fact. She was often approached by all kinds of them, but there was something about Hayden that made her tongue-tied and nervous.
“Maybe I can take you for a drink somewhere with air conditioning?” he suggested, and Betty bit on her lower lip. She wanted to say yes, but she shifted her eyes downward.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, leaning down to grab her bag. “I have to get home.”
“Can I give you a ride somewhere?” he asked.
“No, thank you,” Betty answered. “I live in Gulfport.” As she spoke the words, she wondered why she had provided so much information to a stranger she didn’t know anything about. At least, anything other than his name.
But he doesn’t feel like a stranger, she thought, and it had nothing to do with the fact that she had seen him at the drink cart. It was almost déjà vu, like the feeling that had overcome her when she had first seen him in front of her. She couldn’t help thinking she had met him somewhere else, even though she didn’t remember it.
Maybe in another life, Betty thought, and she was instantly ashamed by the inane idea. There are no other lives—only the hand we’re dealt in this one.
“My car goes to Gulfport,” Hayden joked lightly. “I would be happy to take you home.”
Again, Betty shook her head, a deep blush painting her cheeks.
“No, thank you,” she repeated, turning away. Before she hurried off, she glanced back over her shoulder to look at him. “And thank you for the water!”
Their eyes locked for a single instant, and Betty forced herself to hurry away.
That was a weird encounter, she thought, swallowing the nervousness in her throat. When she got to the road, Betty turned back to look at where Hayden had been standing, but he was no longer there, and she was flooded with disappointment.
Why didn’t I just let him drive me home? she asked herself, but the question was ridiculous. No one could see where she lived; especially not a handsome, charming man. He would run away screaming and never look back.
Lacy was almost in tears when Betty arrived at the small, worn-down house, and she could see why immediately.
Guilt flooded through her as she glanced at her father: he sat in his old rocking chair, his eyes vacant as he stared indifferently into the Bayou Bernard.
“What happened?” Betty asked, her heart racing as she recognized the chagrin on her fifteen-year-old sister’s face.
“He hasn’t said a word all day,” Lacy whisp
ered while Betty set her bag down on the rotting porch. “Betty, he’s getting worse by the minute.”
The fear was evident in Lacy’s mossy eyes, and Betty swallowed a lump of worry forming in her throat.
“Where is Tom?” she asked. Lacy shifted her eyes downward.
“I don’t know,” she replied, but Betty could tell she was lying.
I can’t take one day to myself, she thought mournfully, the shame almost smothering her. And Tom has disappeared again. How often does this happen when I’m away at school?
Despite not wanting to admit it, she had the feeling she already knew the answer.
“Betty, he needs a good doctor,” Lacy whispered. “He barely eats, even when he is coherent. If he keeps up like this…”
She trailed off, though Betty didn’t need her to continue to understand the implication in her words.
Their father, Charlie, was undeniably getting worse, but there was no money to find him decent care.
“I will call on Doc,” Betty assured Lacy, but her sister only scowled.
“Pa needs something better than a third-rate bayou doctor!” she snapped with uncharacteristic anger. “It’s all he’s had, and he’s clearly not improving!”
Although Betty knew Lacy’s concern was justified, there was little she could say to alleviate her sister’s angst. After all, there was only one solution to the problem, and it wasn’t a good one.
If I leave school and stay home, that will be three honor years flushed down the toilet, Betty thought grimly. As she knelt beside her ailing father, though, her heart in her throat, she realized that their options were few.
“Dad?” she said gently, touching his face. “Dad, it’s Betty. Can you hear me?”
There was no response, and she gnawed on her lower lip as he continued to fixate on the murky waters beyond, like he could see something she could not. A fine line of drool began to form at the corner of his mouth.
“I told you,” Lacy sighed. “He’s been like this all day!”
Betty rose slowly and hung her head.
“I’m going for Doc,” she informed her sister. “I’ll be right back.”
She scurried off toward town before Lacy could argue, more contrition flowing through her as she left her sister alone for the second time that day.
If Tom would only pull his weight…
But it was wishful thinking. Tom had always been selfish, using the house as a hotel and helping little with the care of their father. He would sooner spend the few dollars he earned on beer than helping his family.
If Betty had not been such a stellar student, she would have been trapped in the bayou with her siblings, but her excellent grades and perseverance had ensured her a full scholarship to college.
Who would have thought that a girl from the bayou would be so close to graduating with honors?
If only Dad would hang in there for one more school year.
When I graduate, she vowed to herself, I will get a good job and move us out of here. I will be able to afford proper health insurance, and we will finally be able to properly care for Dad.
The plan suddenly seemed impossible. Charlie’s time was running out, and so were Betty’s options.
She approached the modest house of her father’s doctor, and when the old man saw her through the window, he stepped out the door, grinning disarmingly through his wrinkled face.
“Heya, Betty!” Doc called. “I’m surprised to see ya out of your apron.”
Betty offered him a weak smile.
“I’m not working today,” she replied, and he arched a bushy eyebrow.
“Well, heavens abound! They gave you a day off! Who knew them owners had a heart?”
“Doc, I hate to ask this of you,” she started, and his face lost his jovial expression.
Betty didn’t need to offer any further explanation—her face told him everything he needed to know.
“I’ll grab my bag,” the retired country doctor told her, walking back inside his home. Betty nodded gratefully and waited for him to return. “We’ll take my truck,” he told her, and she didn’t argue, jumping into the passenger side.
“I’m sorry we keep imposing on you,” she murmured, and Doc snorted.
“Your family’s been my patients since the dawn of time, it seems,” he said, backing the old Ford out of the carport. “You ain’t imposing.”
Betty didn’t know how to respond. She was certain that the man would rather spend his golden years bowling and drinking bourbon, not jumping every time Charlie slipped into a catatonic state. Especially when he wouldn’t take a single dime for his efforts.
They continued the short drive in silence, but Betty could tell what the doctor was thinking.
When they arrived back at her home, Tom had appeared, and he stood scowling on the porch, his arms folded across his chest.
“Where have you been?” Betty snapped, eyeing him with anger as she climbed down the truck.
Her brother sneered at her. “I could ask the same of you!” he growled. “You leave Lacy here alone to deal with Dad in this state?”
Betty gritted her teeth, willing herself not to respond. There was no point in starting a debate with Tom.
“Heya, Charlie!” Doc called as he crouched at her father’s side. Charlie hadn’t moved from his position on the porch. “How ya doing, old man?”
Of course, their father did not respond, and Doc checked his eyes, a slight grimace appearing on his face.
Betty could see that the prognosis was not going to be good.
The siblings stood back and waited as Doc continued to check Charlie’s vitals. When he finished, he rose to his feet, and Betty could almost hear him creaking as he did.
“Betty, why don’t you come with me?” Doc instructed, and they nervously entered the house with Lacy following behind. Once they were inside, the old man spoke again. “Honey, there ain’t no good way to tell ya this… But I think your father has had another stroke. He’s gonna need a hospital.”
Lacy gasped, and Betty felt her knees grow weak.
“I’m gonna take him with me now,” he went on. “But from what I can see, things don’t look good.”
“Are you saying Dad is going to die?” Lacy cried as Tom turned away, his jaw locking.
Doc sighed. “I don’t know how much damage has been done, honey, but he is gonna need better care than this, for certain. Come on, Tom. You can help me get him into the truck.”
The men exited the tiny house, leaving the sisters to stare at one another in horror.
“Oh, Betty,” Lacy moaned, tears springing to her eyes anew. “What are we gonna do?”
“Shh,” Betty replied softly, pulling her into a hug. “We will find a way to care for him.”
But as the girls embraced, Betty knew that her college life was over. There was no way she could leave her siblings alone while their father seemed to be running out of time faster than he had been before.
The three siblings paced around the hospital reception, waiting for news on Charlie, but Betty felt as if she was falling into a deeper abyss of concern the more hours ticked by.
“I will drop out of school and stay home full time,” Lacy muttered. Betty immediately bristled.
“You will do no such thing!” she snapped. “You need to get your education.”
“How are we going to do this, Betty?” Lacy bemoaned, tears filling her green eyes. “And what if he dies—”
“Don’t say that!” Betty insisted. “He is not going to die. We are getting him the help he needs.”
She only hoped that they weren’t too late.
“But if he does, Betty,” Lacy went on, “we won’t have enough money to pay for any of the expenses of a funeral—”
“Stop!” Tom roared. “Just stop talking!”
Betty glared at her older brother.
“Hey, Tom, why don’t you go get us some coffee?” she suggested coldly, noting the look of anguish on her sister’s face.
Tom
scowled at her. “Gladly,” he agreed. “Anything to stop listening to this blathering.”
He stormed off down the hallway toward the cafeteria, and Betty offered her sister a smile.
“I will continue to work at the restaurant and flower shop,” she reassured. “We can split shifts caring for Dad when you’re not in school.”
Lacy gaped at her. “But Betty, you can’t just give up on college! You’re almost done, and you’d be the first of our family to—”
“Hush, now,” Betty interrupted. “I can always go back and finish earning my degree when Dad’s better.”
She just hoped there was more conviction in her voice than she felt. She knew the chances of her returning to college after dropping out were slim, and she would probably end up rotting away in the bayou like all of her family’s generations had before her, but what other choice did she have? She could not depend on Tom to do anything for Charlie, and there was no way she was leaving Lacy to care for their sick father alone.
And family comes first.
“Oh!” Lacy gasped. “There’s the doctor!”
Betty whirled, and her mouth dropped open. The doctor, whose nametag read Dr. Chalmers, stared at her, an equally shocked expression on his face.
“Betty!” Hayden cried, and a hot blush colored Betty’s cheeks as she recognized the handsome stranger from the beach.
Not only is he gorgeous, he’s a doctor, she thought. He’s Dad’s doctor. I am so glad I didn’t have him drive me home to the bayou.
“Hi,” she mumbled as Lacy cast her a sidelong look.
“You know one another?” she asked.
“I’m Dr. Hayden Chalmers,” he said, turning to Lacy to offer his hand for a shake. “I met Betty—”
“Never mind that,” Betty quickly interrupted, trying to hide her crimson cheeks behind stray strands of her strawberry blonde hair. “How is he?”
Hayden sighed and shook his head. “I’m afraid Dr. Kissinger was right: your father had another stroke. There seems to be severe brain damage, and he is going to need round-the-clock attention.”
The words drove knives into Betty’s heart, but she nodded. She hadn’t really expected to hear anything else.