But, as they soon discovered, their evening activities would be limited. The desk clerk said that Myrtle Beach rolled up the sidewalks during the winter, and many attractions, restaurants, and nightclubs were closed for the season.
As the three of them sat in the lobby bar, Taffy plunged a plastic swizzle stick into her piña colada.
“Can you believe it?” she said. “We’re smack in the middle of the fun capital of the Southeast, and there’s nothing to do. Even the lazy river in the hotel isn’t open.”
“I have a novel idea,” Elizabeth said. “Why don’t we go to the beach?”
“The beach?” Taffy made a face. “So we can get all sandy and smell like a fish?”
“Do they sell beer on the beach?” Dwayne asked.
“Probably not this time of year,” Elizabeth said.
He wrapped his hand around his Budweiser can. “Then I’m happy to stay put.”
Elizabeth decided if she was going to get a glimpse of the ocean this trip, she’d be forced to go alone.
She left Taffy and her daddy in the bar and rode the elevator to her hotel room, where she slipped into a windbreaker. It was shortly after five, and the temperature had dropped several degrees as the sun sank into the horizon. Feathery pampas grass swayed in the breeze as Elizabeth crossed the gentle, sloping dunes to reach the sugary, white sand of the beach. She took a whiff of the briny air and felt completely lifted from the chaos of commercialism just yards away. The sun bled sherbet shades of orange and pink as it set.
She kicked a conch shell with the toe of her tennis shoe, spooking a covey of sandpipers, who hurried away on spindly legs. Looking up at the vast sky, she felt as small and insignificant as a speck. Did it really matter where she fit on such a huge planet?
Elizabeth continued to walk the beach, even as the sky turned a shadowy purple and the lapping waves receded from the shore. The mantra “a place for me” repeated in her thoughts. Reaching the braced, sea-washed wood of the breakers, she turned to trudge back to the hotel. She thought about her cousin Dorrie, and how she’d been frightened into giving up her career dreams. She thought about the isolation and boredom she’d experienced as a stay-at-home parent, made even worse by the disbanding of her Mommy Time group. There just didn’t seem to be any answers.
Then, there was an abrupt mental click, like a puzzle piece sliding into place. Suddenly, she knew exactly what she should do.
It’s perfect, she thought, quickening her pace along the sand as her mind blossomed with a fully formed idea. Elizabeth couldn’t wait to get home to Cayboo Creek and discuss her brainstorm with Timothy. Finally she’d found a solution to her dilemma that would satisfy them both.
Thirty
Coffee, chocolate, men.
Some things are just better rich.
~ Overhead underneath the dryers at the Dazzling Do’s
Some people toss back whiskey shots when they’re upset, others find solace in boxes of Little Debbie swiss rolls or cartons of Mayfield Moose Tracks Ice Cream. Whenever Mrs. Tobias felt blue, she sought comfort in the plot of soil in her backyard garden. In the last few days she’d dug up three basketfuls of weeds, fertilized her pansies, and prepared the soil for spring bulbs.
At first, she refused to admit that anything was amiss. I’m right as rain, Mrs. Tobias had said to herself as she attacked the soil with her wooden-handled trowel. Forget the fact that she compulsively checked her answering machine whenever she went inside, even though the message light never blinked but blazed steadily, like a cruel red eye. Once she even drove to a convenience store and called herself from a phone booth to make sure her machine was functioning properly.
Mrs. Tobias didn’t know why she expected a phone call from Rusty. After all, he was the one who’d been wronged. Still, it seemed as if he’d given her up too readily. Shouldn’t he have put up more of a fight?
Clearly his feelings for her didn’t run very deep. Maybe he’s even moved on, she thought to herself as she tore big handfuls of clover from the dirt. Maybe he and that cigar-smoking Minnie from the flea market were, at this very minute, listening to The Mamas and the Papas on Rusty’s car stereo en route to a game of cosmic bowling.
“She can have him,” Mrs. Tobias whispered to herself, accidentally pulling up a few sprigs of rosemary along with a clump of weeds. A sour taste of indignation rose in her throat at the thought of Rusty and Minnie together. How dare he take up with someone else so soon after his relationship with her? She got so worked up, she had the urge to call Rusty and give him a piece of her mind. It was only after she’d bumped her knee against a flagstone that she came to her senses and remembered that the pairing of Rusty and Minnie had merely been an invention of her imagination.
She couldn’t trust her thoughts anymore. They flew about pell-mell, like deflating toy balloons. Sometimes she felt like the betrayed party. Shouldn’t Rusty have checked on her to make sure she hadn’t been spirited away from the restaurant by a band of thugs? How did he know she hadn’t hit her head and wasn’t wandering around town with amnesia?
Sometimes, Mrs. Tobias just felt plain sad. Pillow Talk came on TV the other evening, and she immediately changed the channel. Rock Hudson reminded her too much of Rusty.
And then there were the times when she called him while he was at work, just to hear his voice on the answering machine. Those were the most confusing times of all.
Mrs. Tobias got up from her crouching position in the garden and shook the pins and needles out of her legs. Inside the house, she could hear the faint ring of the phone. Adrenaline surged through her blood as she sprinted inside, the back door banging behind her.
“Hello?” she said breathlessly.
“Hello, dear,” said Cecilia. “You sound winded. Did I catch you in the middle of your morning calisthenics?”
“No, Cecilia,” Mrs. Tobias said, trying to disguise the disappointment in her voice. “I just came in from the garden.”
“Lovely day for it, although my hip tells me we might be in for an afternoon shower.”
I’m sorry it’s bothering you.” Mrs. Tobias opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of spring water.
“Guess who I ran into at the club yesterday? Rutherford Spalding. You remember Rutherford? He’s an oncologist at University Hospital.”
“Oh yes, Rutherford,” Mrs. Tobias said. “I remember him very well.” Harrison used to call him “the anteater” because his nose was so long.
“Did you also know that he’s been recently widowed?”
“No, I didn’t,” Mrs. Tobias said. She remembered his wife, a white-haired woman with an imposing shelf of a bosom.
“We were chitchatting in the grill, and your name came up. It seems Rutherford has fond memories of you.”
“Really?” Mrs. Tobias said.
“Oh yes,” Cecilia said in a girlish voice. “He got dewy-eyed at the mention of your name.”
“I see where this is leading, Cecilia, and I don’t—”
“Nonsense,” Cecilia interrupted. “You obviously long for male companionship or you wouldn’t have been at Jacque’s kissing that leather-clad ruffian. And you couldn’t ask for a more appropriate suitor than Rutherford. I urged him to call you. I certainly hope you’ll agree to an outing with him.”
Mrs. Tobias was about to protest farther, when she stopped herself. After all, an evening on the town could provide her a much-needed diversion from her wild swings of emotion.
And perhaps, if she went out with someone from her old social circle, it would further convince her of Rusty’s unsuitability as a beau.
“Very well. If Rutherford calls and asks me out, I’ll go. Thank you, Cecilia, for thinking of me.”
“We’ll find the right man for you yet,” clucked Cecilia, clearly enjoying her new role as a Yentl.
A few hours later, the phone rang while Mrs. Tobias was
heating tea on the stove.
“May I speak with Mrs. Harrison Tobias, please?” a male voice said when she answered the phone.
Mrs. Tobias picked up the whistling kettle from the burner. “This is she.”
“Grace, this is Rutherford Spalding.”
Rutherford’s voice sounded deeper on the phone than what she remembered, and his speech was cultured and as crisp as Melba toast. There was no dropping of ‘g’s or muddying of vowel sounds, just lovely, well-formed enunciations.
Rutherford engaged in the requisite small talk and then launched headlong into the true purpose of his call.
“Would you care to join me for dinner Saturday night?” he asked. “I know it’s short notice, but—”
“That would be wonderful, Rutherford,” Mrs. Tobias said.
And that was that. After a few moments he ended their conversation, and she stood by the phone, contemplating what she might wear for their date.
It’s for the best, Mrs. Tobias thought. For the first time since her dreadful evening at Moretti’s House of Cannelloni, she didn’t feel the need to take refuge in her garden. Perhaps her every waking moment would no longer be plagued by thoughts of Rusty. The last few days had been more trying than she could ever have imagined.
Thirty-One
A closed mouth gathers no foot.
~ Message in fortune cookie at Dun Woo’s House of Noodles
Mavis stood in the aisle of the Bottom Dollar Emporium, modeling her reunion dress for Attalee. It was a pink duster with a mandarin collar and gold embroidering down the sides.
Attalee stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled.
“Thank you,” Mavis said. She liked the way the dress emphasized her soft curves. “Do you think it’s too flashy?” she asked. She touched the slight fuzz of mustache above her upper lip. The area stung from a recent application of Jolene bleach.
“You look pretty as a speckled puppy, and you know it,” Attalee said as she swiped at the counter with a damp rag.
Mavis fingered the silky fabric of her dress. “It doesn’t seem right, though. There’s no one else here beside you to admire it.”
“Well, Elizabeth is out of town. Mrs. Tobias is... I don’t know where she is; she’s been lying low for a couple days.” Attalee stopped to think for a moment. “That’s everyone.”
“No, it isn’t.” Mavis sank into a vinyl stool at the soda fountain.
Attalee snapped her dishtowel. “Purge that bra-busting broad from your mind. She ain’t fit to roll with a pig.”
“Birdie always had such good fashion sense,” Mavis said with a wan smile. “She’d suggest just the right accessories for this dress.”
The phone rang, and Mavis hurried to the front of the store to answer it.
“No, Brew,” she said. “The mail’s come, but I didn’t get any more RSVPs. Yes. I’m looking forward to tonight as well.” Mavis hung up the phone and returned to her perch at the soda fountain.
“So is everyone from your high school class coming to the reunion?” Attalee asked.
“A good many, considering the short notice,” Mavis said. “Prissy Stevens, Brew’s old girlfriend, didn’t respond, and I’m grateful for that.”
“Are you afraid Brewster’s going to warm up a pot of old soup?” Attalee asked.
“I don’t think so,” Mavis said. “But it’s a relief not to have to worry about her.”
“What about old Hank Bryson? Wasn’t he in your high school class?”
Mavis smiled at the mention of her friend. She hadn’t seen Hank since he sold his hardware store over a year ago and moved to California to be closer to his daughter.
Attalee leaned across the counter. “Hank always had a sweet spot for you.”
“Oh pooh,” Mavis said, waving her off. “Elizabeth used to say the same thing, but I never saw it. It’s not like he ever asked me out on a date. We were just buddies.”
“I think he would like to have been bosom buddies, but he just didn’t have the nerve to ask you out.”
“You TiVo too many soap operas.” Mavis stood up. “I better change out of this dress before I muss it.”
“Old Hank,” Attalee muttered as she mashed the button on the Oster milkshake machine. “He was the right man for you, I tell you,” she shouted over the roar of the Oster.
“Who’s the right man?” Mrs. Tobias said, peering around the corner.
“Hey, Mrs. Tobias.” Mavis motioned to Attalee to cut off the machine. “I didn’t hear you come in. How are you?”
“I’m curious,” Mrs. Tobias said with a smile. “What man are you talking about? That Brew fellow?”
“No,” Mavis said. “We were actually talking about Hank Bryson. You remember him. Big fellow that used to come into the store? Always wore overalls?”
“He and Mavis are star-crossed lovers.” Attalee squirted a dollop of whipped cream on her milkshake.
“We are not,” Mavis said. “Attalee’s imagination works overtime. Besides, my heart belongs to Brew now.”
“You’ll forget all about Brew once you lock eyeballs with Hank across the dance floor,” Attalee insisted. She took noisy slurps from her straw. “He’s your destiny. I have a psychic knack for knowing these kinds of things.”
“Well, I’ve got a news flash for you,” Mavis said to Attalee. “I didn’t hear a word from Hank about the reunion. I don’t even know if he got his invitation.”
“Tonight’s the night, isn’t it?” Mrs. Tobias said. “Your dress, by the way, is very flattering. I assume you’re wearing it to this evening’s festivities?”
“I am.” Mavis made an awkward 360-degree turn so Mrs. Tobias could see how nicely her dress hung.
“Your dance card will fill up in a hurry,” Mrs. Tobias said, fingering her earrings. “I, too, have a big evening planned for tonight. I’m going out on a date.”
“Where are you and Rusty off to? Maybe we could double-date,” Attalee asked. She clapped a hand over her mouth. “I forgot. Rusty’s supposed to be a secret.”
“Never mind,” Mrs. Tobias said. “Rusty’s out, and Rutherford is in.”
“What happened to Rusty? Y’all were perfect for each other,” Attalee said with a scowl.
“Rutherford is even more perfect.” Mrs. Tobias turned to Mavis. “He’s a respected physician in Augusta, and—”
“So?” Attalee said, with a burp. “Rusty’s a doctor.”
“A duct doctor, Attalee,” Mrs. Tobias said in a firm tone. “Rutherford is an oncologist. He treats cancer patients.”
“Does he fill out the seat of his Levi’s as nicely as Rusty does?” Attalee asked.
“Rutherford doesn’t wear Levi’s.” Mrs. Tobias’s fingers tensed on the handle of her pocketbook. “I do recall him cutting a dashing figure in his Armani suits.”
“Does he have Rusty’s sexy, lopsided smile?” Attalee said, circling Mrs. Tobias. “Is he easygoing and funny? Does he look at you the way Rusty does, like you were the most beautiful gal he’s ever put his sights on?”
“Stop!” Mrs. Tobias said with a bang of her heel. “Rutherford has other qualities that I admire in a man. Rusty’s too small-town, too backwoods, too... common!”
As soon as the words flew from her mouth, she paled as if she wished she could snatch them back.
Attalee slowly set down her milkshake. “What about Mavis and me? Are we common, too?”
“No,” Mrs. Tobias said, on the verge of tears. “You’re my dearest friends. You must know that.”
“‘Course we do.” Mavis patted Mrs. Tobias’s back. “Quit picking on her, Attalee. Mrs. Tobias knows if a fellow is right for her or not. You need to stay out of people’s love lives.”
“You never saw Rusty and Mrs. Tobias together,” Attalee insisted. “They were like Loretta Lynn and Mooney. A match made in heaven.”
“I need to go.” Mrs. Tobias dabbed at the corner of her eye with a gloved finger. “I’ve got a million things to do today.”
“Don’t let Attalee chase you off, Mrs. Tobias,” Mavis said.
“It’s not that.” Mrs. Tobias picked up her purse. “I’m just in a rush.”
After she left, Mavis swiveled her stool to face Attalee. “Sometimes you go too far.”
“Don’t care what nobody says: Rusty was right for her,” Attalee said, clanging soda glasses as she reshelved them. “See how she went back to wearing them proper little suits and those silly white gloves? She needs loosening up, and Rusty’s the one to do it. Heck, we’ve known Mrs. Tobias a couple of years, and we still don’t call her by her given name.”
“It’s just Mrs. Tobias’s way,” Mavis said. “But you shouldn’t have run her off like that. She’s our friend, and you insulted her.”
“Nope, that wasn’t it,” Attalee said, her black eyes glittering under the fluorescent light above the soda fountain. “She wasn’t insulted. She left because she knew I was speaking the truth about Rusty, and she ain’t ready to face it.”
“Attalee—”
She held up a wrinkled finger. “You heard it here first. Mrs. Tobias is in love with Rusty Williams. And a date with some rich doctor ain’t going to change that.”
Thirty-Two
All men are animals, some just make better pets.
~ Cross-stitch pillow in Taffy Polk’s bedroom
The first thing Elizabeth saw when she opened the front door to her house was Maybelline’s snout buried deep in a Domino’s pizza box.
“What are you doing, girl?” she asked. The dog had the box pinned down with her paw as if it were prey. When Elizabeth knelt down to pick it up, Maybelline emitted a low growl.
“You’ll make yourself sick, Missy,” Elizabeth said, snatching the box away. “Timothy?” she called out as she walked into the living room.
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