Summer Rental

by Mary Kay Andrews

  “I’m in,” Dorie said breathlessly.

  “Dorie!” Ellis exclaimed.

  “What? Look, I’m pregnant, not dead. This all-girl stuff is fine as far as it goes, but my hormones are friggin’ raging out of control right now. I just want to engage in a little harmless spectator leering. Is that so wrong?”

  “I wouldn’t mind staring at some man-candy myself,” Madison admitted. “Take my mind off my worries.”

  Ellis was leafing through her notebook. “Here it is,” she cried triumphantly. “Tortugas’ Lie! Two-for-one weeknight appetizers. But we’ve got to get there before seven.”

  “It’s twenty ’til,” Julia announced, getting up from the table. “Let’s roll!”

  * * *

  They ordered steamed shrimp and crab, conch fritters, and Baja fish tacos, and ate all of it from paper plates, sitting on the wooden bleachers overlooking the restaurant’s sand volleyball court, where a dozen shirtless men, as promised, jumped and spiked and dove and joked and hollered.

  “Ah,” Julia said, sniffing the air appreciatively. “The sweet smell of testosterone.” She took a long swig from her lime-spiked Corona and tilted up the brim of the straw cowboy hat she’d grabbed on her way out the door.

  “Y’all, I have a confession to make.”

  “This’ll be good,” Ellis told Madison under her breath.

  “I folded. I called Booker this morning and invited him down for the weekend.”

  “Yay!” Dorie clapped her hands. “When’s he coming?”

  “He’s driving down after work tomorrow. I hope nobody minds.”

  “Not me,” Ellis said. “Does this mean you’re considering his offer?”

  “Offer?” Madison said.

  “Booker has been begging Julia to marry him for the past year. He’s taken a job as art director for a magazine in DC,” Dorie explained. “He wants to buy a house and get married.”

  “And knock me up,” Julia said dryly. “And no, this does not mean you guys should start shopping for bridesmaids’ dresses. It just means that we haven’t seen each other in over a month. A girl has needs, you know.”

  “When the trailer is a-rockin’, don’t come a-knockin’,” Dorie quipped happily.

  “Actually,” Julia added, “I think he’s just as interested in seeing the house as he is me.”

  “Which house?” Madison asked.

  “Our house. The one we’re staying in. Ebbtide. I’ve been e-mailing him the pictures I’ve been taking of all of us with my cell phone, and for some reason, he’s fascinated with the place. I’d suggested maybe we’d want to get a hotel room, just for the weekend, you know, but Booker says he’s dying to see the house. If you guys don’t mind him staying with us.”

  “I think we might all feel a little safer with a guy around,” Dorie said, and Madison nodded her agreement.

  “He’d better get a good look at the house while he’s here,” Ellis said glumly. “Ebbtide is in foreclosure. If Ty doesn’t find a way to catch up on his payments by September fifteenth, the bank will auction it off on the courthouse steps.”

  “What’s Ty got to do with Ebbtide?” Julia asked.

  Ellis smiled enigmatically. “Turns out Ty Bazemore is actually Mr. Culpepper. He owns the place! His mother’s family built the house in the thirties, and Ty bought it last year from his uncle, who’d inherited it. He’s been living in the garage apartment, renting out the big house, trying to raise enough money to fix it up and keep it. But then the economy went to hell, and now, if he doesn’t figure something out, he’ll lose it.”

  “Garage boy is actually Mr. Culpepper?” Dorie repeated. “Why didn’t he just tell you that from the beginning?”

  Ellis shrugged. “He says he never tells the tenants that he lives on the property, because then they’d be pestering him night and day. He does all the rentals, all the communication by e-mail, like he did with me. That way, he can concentrate on doing his stock research and trading.”

  “Hey,” Julia said. “You never did tell us how your date went last night. Come on, give. And don’t you dare leave out the sexy bits.”

  * * *

  Eventually, the sun went down, and the volleyball players, sweaty and covered in sand, retreated into the bar to be joined by hordes of girlfriends and thirsty college kids.

  “Where to now?” Julia asked, shouting to be heard over the din.

  Ellis hesitated. “Ty mentioned that they’re having some kind of special promotion at Cadillac Jack’s tonight, for a new citrus-flavored vodka. Cheap drinks and karaoke. You, know, if anybody’s interested.”

  “Karaoke? Hmm,” Julia said. “So corny.”

  “So fun!” Dorie insisted. “Come on, you guys. Let’s go. I’m finally starting to get some energy again. And I love karaoke. You guys can party and not worry. I’ll be the designated driver.”

  Twenty minutes later, they were pulling into the parking lot at Caddie’s. A huge hot-pink canvas banner fluttered from the front of the building. PUCKER-UPPER NITE, it proclaimed. PUCKERADE COCKTAILS, $2.

  “I can’t wait to see what goes into a Puckerade cocktail,” Julia said as they elbowed their way into the crowded bar.

  “There’s Ty,” Dorie said, pointing towards the bar. “Come on, let’s get a table.” She gave Ellis a gentle push in that direction. “Let him know we’re here, and order us some drinks, okay? See if they can make me something without any booze, will you?”

  “Well, hello,” Ty said, when Ellis finally managed to slither through the three-deep row of women pressed up against the bar. “How about a Pucker-Upper? Tastes like shit, if you ask me, but these women seem to be lapping them up.”

  And it was true, it seemed that each woman in the crowd was clutching, or sucking from, a yellow, vaguely lemon-shaped plastic orb with a straw sticking out of the top.

  “Okay,” Ellis said. “Three Pucker-Uppers, and something nonalcoholic for Dorie.”

  Ty handed her one of the lemon cups, and Ellis, feeling suddenly overcome with shyness, took a long drink. And then another.

  “Not so bad,” she pronounced.

  “The others came too?” Ty asked, obviously pleased. “Even Madison?”

  “Even Madison,” Ellis nodded. “Hey, thanks for letting us use your computer. It looks like Madison may be in more trouble than we knew. According to the Philly paper, it looks like the police back in Jersey want to talk to her about the money her husband embezzled from the insurance company where she worked. There’s sort of a reward out for her.”

  “You really think somebody might come looking for her? Is it safe?”

  “I’m not sure,” Ellis admitted. “Madison’s friend from work, a guy named Adam, is somehow mixed up in all this stuff, and he’s supposedly on his way here to see her. I’m a little worried because he knows she’s staying at Ebbtide. Not the address, exactly, but he does know the street name and the name of the house. So yeah, I don’t want to sound too paranoid, but I’m actually a little worried.”

  Ty frowned. “I’ve got a friend who’s a sheriff’s deputy, Connor Terry. In fact, he’s working the door tonight. I could ask him to roll past the house in his county cruiser, keep an eye out.”

  “Could you?” Ellis said gratefully. “That would make me feel a lot better.”

  “Sure, no problem,” Ty said. “Where you sitting? I’ll send Nella over with the drinks as soon as she comes back.”

  Ellis reached for her pocketbook to pay, but Ty shook his head. “On the house,” he said.

  * * *

  Julia took a cautious sip of her drink. “Not bad,” she admitted.

  Madison sipped, but made a face, pushing the souvenir cup away. “Kinda tastes like lemon Pledge, if you ask me.”

  “It’s okay,” Ellis said, working on her second drink of the night. “Anyway, the price is right.”

  “Ooh, free drinks,” Julia drawled. “Aren’t you clever, shagging the bartender?”

  “I am not…” Ellis started, and th
en dissolved into a fit of Pucker-Upper fueled giggles.

  “Yet,” Dorie said, hopefully.

  “Yet,” voted Madison, suddenly realizing how much she enjoyed the company of these women, how much fun it was to tease Ellis, and yes, even to bait Julia.

  * * *

  An hour later, their tabletop was littered with yellow plastic Pucker-Upper cups. Karaoke had started, and three sunburnt chicks wearing UNC-Greensboro T-shirts stood on the postage-stamp-sized stage, arms locked around each other’s shoulders, swaying as they shrieked a drunken, tuneless version of “Lady Marmalade.”

  “Sounds like a cat got skinned,” Madison complained. “Voulez vous shut the fuck up?”

  “Think you can do better?” Julia retorted.

  “Not a chance,” Madison said. “I’m a wanted woman, remember?”

  “Ellis!” Dorie cried. “You have to. Please?”

  “Who, me?” Ellis laughed. “You know me better than that. As far as I’m concerned, karaoke is strictly a spectator sport.”

  “Don’t look at me,” Julia warned. “This was your idea, not mine.”

  “Spoilsports,” Dorie said, pretending to pout. “Y’all are no fun anymore.”

  So they stayed, and drank, and danced as a pack, even persuading Madison, once, to join them in the Electric Slide, and Ty kept sending drinks over, and Ellis kept glancing over her shoulder to watch him in action behind the bar. He was so fine, she thought. So fine. And mine.

  In the end, it was Dorie’s bladder, not exhaustion, that did them in. “Y’all,” she complained, hopping from one foot to another. “The line to the ladies room is like twenty people long.”

  “Oh, just go in the men’s room,” Julia grumbled. “There aren’t hardly any men here tonight. No straight men, that is.”

  “There’s twice as many girls in the men’s room line,” Dorie said. “Come on, y’all, if I don’t get out of here right this minute, I’m gonna pop.”

  “Might as well,” Ellis said, getting somewhat unsteadily to her feet. “They close at two. C’mon, Julia, let’s get little mama home.”

  She tried to catch Ty’s eye as they were leaving the club, but there was still a crowd standing at the bar, and Dorie was tugging at her, urging her to hurry.

  When they got back to Ebbtide, Dorie pulled the red van almost to the edge of the porch, put the car in park, and jumped out and raced for the front door, fumbling for her keys as she went.

  Madison hesitated, getting out of the backseat of the van. She looked up at the silent house, and the dull, yellow glow of the porch light they’d left burning, and then back again at the end of the driveway, bathed in a pool of pale white from the street lamp. No cars drove past. It was eerily quiet, except for the thrum of cicadas.

  For the tenth time, she pulled her cell phone from her purse to check for missed calls. Nothing. She frowned.

  Ellis climbed out of the van in time to see Madison tuck her phone away.

  “Maybe Adam changed his mind,” she offered.

  “He should have been here by now,” Madison fretted. “Something’s wrong. I just know it. It’s not safe. If Don figures out I’m here…”

  “He won’t,” Ellis assured her. “Anyway, Ty is friends with a sheriff’s deputy here. He was actually working the door at Caddie’s tonight. Ty promised he’d get the guy to drive past the house tonight and tomorrow in his sheriff’s cruiser. You know, just in case.”

  “A sheriff’s deputy?” Madison shrugged. “I guess it couldn’t hurt.”

  * * *

  “Anybody hungry?” Dorie asked hopefully, standing in the kitchen doorway.

  “After all that stuff we ate tonight?” Madison shook her head. “I guess you really are eating for two now.”

  “She’s always been like that,” Julia said. “Ever since she was a kid. Eats like a little piggy and never gains an ounce.”

  “What did you have in mind?” Ellis asked. “Have we got any dessert?”

  “Fudgsicles and some store-bought pound cake and some strawberries,” Dorie reported.

  “Okay, you talked me into it,” Julia relented. “All that dancing we did tonight has to have burned off a boatload of calories. And I’ll run off the rest in the morning.”

  “I’m in,” Ellis said. “Madison?”

  “Not me,” Madison said. “I’m turning in.” She turned and headed for the stairway, but then stopped, and came back into the kitchen.

  “Hey, ladies,” she said shyly. “Thanks. I had a good time tonight. So thanks … for everything. Really. In case I forget to tell you tomorrow.”

  Julia managed a crooked smile. “And Madison? I really am sorry about the, you know, uh…”

  “Break-in?” Madison shrugged. “What break-in?”

  * * *

  Julia groaned and pushed away the half-eaten bowl of strawberries and cake. “Gawwd. Why did I let y’all talk me into eating this mess? I’m going to bed. Booker will be here tomorrow, and I’ve got to get my beauty sleep.”

  “I’m coming too,” Dorie said, stacking the bowls in the sink. “You, Ellis?”

  “I’ll be along,” Ellis said casually. “I think I’ll just tidy up in here a little bit.” It was after two, and she’d promised Ty she’d wait up for him. She had her cell phone on the counter, and kept eyeing it, waiting for his text.

  “You don’t fool me, Ellis Sullivan,” Julia said, yawning again. “You’re waiting for a call from garage guy.”

  “Actually,” Ellis admitted, “he said he’d text me when he was leaving the club.”

  Julia gave Dorie an elaborate wink. “She’s gonna have to pay for all those free drinks one way or another.”

  “You’re such a romantic, Julia,” Dorie said. She grabbed Julia’s hand and tugged. “C’mon. I’ll race you for the bathroom.”

  38

  Alone in the kitchen, Ellis washed, dried, and put away the dishes. She smiled as she traced the faded pattern of green leaves and pink rosebuds on the delicate gold-edged china. Such a sweet gesture on Ty’s part, giving them his grandmother’s dishes.

  It was nearly 2:30 in the morning. To kill time, she got a bottle of spray cleaner and spritzed all the counters. Then she swept the floor, and finally, took the damp dish towel out to the back porch to dry on the makeshift clothesline the girls had rigged up between the weathered gray porch posts.

  It was still unbelievably hot and humid outside. She glanced at the rusted Sunbeam Bread thermometer tacked to the wall beside the kitchen door. Eighty-six degrees! Still, she thought, glancing up at the deep, velvet sky, the stars were so plentiful and bright this time of night. Maybe she’d take a walk on the beach while she waited for Ty. She’d read a magazine article about how summertime was the season when sea turtles lumbered ashore all along the East Coast to lay eggs, and had even seen signs on the beach warning people not to disturb the turtle nests. Wouldn’t it be amazing if she came across a nest of sea turtle eggs? She ducked back into the house, grabbed her cell phone, and strolled down the boardwalk over the dunes.

  Leaving her shoes at the bottom of the beach staircase, Ellis let her feet sink into the cool, damp sand. The tide was out. She walked to the water’s edge, letting the incoming waves tickle her ankles. She inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of salt and sun-baked sand, and started walking north, confident that she would not get lost or panicked this time.

  She walked for fifteen minutes, zigzagging between the waterline and the dunes, before she saw it: two wavy, parallel lines in the sand, which crossed in a X shape, leading up to a sort of crater shape in the soft sand at the edge of a dune.

  Ellis tiptoed over to the crater. The sand here had clearly been disturbed. Had she found a turtle nest? She looked back towards the water, wondering about the odd X-shaped lines, until it occurred to her that if she had indeed discovered a nest, maybe one track was from the turtle, making its way up to the dune line, and the other was the turtle’s return track to the ocean.

  She knelt in the soft sa
nd and peered down at the impression in the sand, holding her breath, as though even the softest sound might disturb what was under the sand. Should she touch it if it was a nest? And if it was a nest, and she did touch it, would that deter the mother sea turtle from returning to tend to its eggs? She frowned, wishing she knew more. She really wanted to feather the sand aside, to see if, by some miracle, there could be eggs there. She straightened and looked around, but the beach was deserted. As she looked up, she felt a drop of water on the back of her neck.

  It had started to rain. Reluctantly, she stood up, brushing sand from her knees. She looked around for something to mark the nest, so that she could find it again in the morning. Finding a piece of a windbreak, she managed to wrench off a weathered wooden stake, and poked it into the sand a few inches from the nest.

  “Okay, turtle babies,” she whispered, as the rain began to fall harder. “I’ll check back with you little guys later, okay?”

  As she trotted back through the rain, she heard her cell phone ping, and looked down at the text message there.

  I’M HERE. WHERE ARE U?

  Ellis smiled, tucked the phone back into her pocket to keep it dry, and picked up her pace.

  * * *

  She was soaking wet and out of breath as she climbed the last step to the garage apartment deck. The light was on inside, and she tapped on the door. Ty opened it and laughed when he saw her bedraggled condition.

  “Get lost again?” he asked, pulling her inside and out of the rain.

  “No,” she said excitedly. “I was walking on the beach, and I saw these tracks in the sand. Ty, I think maybe I found a sea turtle nest!”

  “Really? Cool. This is definitely nesting season. Were there any eggs in it?” He disappeared into another room and came back with a dry towel.

  “Thanks.” She started toweling off her arms and her hair. “I was afraid to disturb it. I mean, I know sea turtles are endangered, and I didn’t know if it was against the law to tamper with a nest, so I just found a piece of wood and stuck it down in the sand to mark it. If it really is a nest, maybe I can find it in the morning and check it out.”

  “You did the right thing,” Ty said approvingly. “Did you notice what mile marker the nest was near?”