Quietly, Townsend said, “I was going to ask, but I figured you would have said something if she was doing better.”
“Worse,” Hennessy said, confident that was a long enough summary. “After Kate met her, she pointed out, correctly, that visiting only seemed to hurt me.”
Townsend reached over and grasped her hand, giving it a brief squeeze. “But you can’t stop,” she said, her empathy settling right inside Hennessy’s heart.
“I know I’m a dreamer, but I won’t give up on her until she’s gone. I can’t,” she said, swallowing back the tears. “She’s my momma.”
“Hey,” Townsend said, her voice whisper-soft. “That’s what makes you a loving person. Don’t ever feel bad for having compassion.”
“I don’t. But I do set myself up for heartbreak. Kate’s right on that.” She stared out the window, familiar landmarks bringing a smile to her face. “By the end of the year, I’ll be sick of this drive. But today?” She let out a long, pleasured sigh. “I could hardly be happier.”
“Have you seen Mary Ann often?”
“Not often, no. Kate and I came down to have lunch with her last time we were home, but that’s about it. I can’t wait to see her.”
“She feels the same,” Townsend assured her. “When I told her you were going to be the program director she sounded like she’d won the lottery.”
Hennessy smiled at that. One more cherry on a perfect sundae of a day.
It was probably a mistake to arrive on the same day the kids did. The parents were all gone, and their first dinner was over, but they were running all over the place, blowing off a little steam before their ten o’clock curfew. Hennessy carried her bag into Spoonbill, stopping in her tracks when a girl emerged from the cabin leader’s room. “Can I help you?”
Hennessy had been teaching long enough to be very familiar with college freshmen, but this kid looked young enough to be her daughter. “I’m Hennessy Boudreaux,” she said, extending her hand. “Are you Shana?”
“Yeah. Welcome,” she said. “I’m really glad to have you.” Hustling over to a door, she opened it with a key. “Having you here means I’ve got two fewer campers to keep an eye on.” As Hennessy moved past her into the room, she added quietly, “One of the girls seems like she’s going to need some extra supervision. I caught her with cigarettes.”
Biting her tongue, Hennessy tossed her bag onto one of the twin beds. “I’ve got a little experience in keeping an eye on campers who aren’t fans of the rules. Let me know if you need any help.”
When Hennessy emerged from her cabin, Townsend was chatting up a couple of kids who were sitting on the front steps, both of them texting while giving her a small piece of their attention. Little did they know their phones would be taken from them before the night was out. “Does it kinda freak you guys out to share your cabin with an old lady?” Townsend asked. Her hand flew to her heart when she acted like she hadn’t known Hennessy was right in front of her. “Oh, sorry,” she said. “Just making friends.”
The girls regarded them both suspiciously, then went back to their two-thumbed conversations. Hennessy took Townsend by the elbow and guided her back to the car. “We were never that young,” she declared.
“Oh, sure we were.” Townsend took another look over her shoulder. “When we were ten!”
The drive to Townsend’s new house didn’t take long. Just long enough for Hennessy to roll her window down and suck in the smells of the Low Country. Even in May, everything had a ripe, mature fragrance, like the plants had been growing for months and months. Soon, magnolia-scented air gave way to a jolt of jasmine that made her mouth water. “Goddamn, I’ve missed jasmine,” she moaned. “Oh, honeysuckle! Good lord, that’s a beautiful smell.”
“You can only smell that because it’s high tide,” Townsend joked. “When that pluff mud takes over again, that honeysuckle’s going to be just a memory.”
“Stop at the Piggly Wiggly,” Hennessy directed. “I’ve got to get you set up proper like.”
“By buying groceries? Haven’t we eaten enough for one night?”
“Just stop. Don’t be such a Northerner, asking questions all day,” she said, chuckling to herself. “Do you have a pitcher?”
“A pitcher? Everything had to fit into this car, Hennessy. That means I’ve got clothes and a laptop.” She pulled into the parking lot, now almost empty.
“Wait right here,” Hennessy said. “I’ll be back in two seconds.”
It took a little longer than two, but she was back quickly. “I’ve got your after dinner treat right in this bag,” she declared, patting the brown paper. “And soon you’ll be drinking the nectar of the gods.”
“I stopped that a while ago,” Townsend teased. “You might not have noticed…”
“Ha! Alcohol has nothing on this. Trust me.”
The island was nearly entirely covered with planned developments they insisted on calling plantations. One led to the next, with very few homes unaffiliated with a resort and its attendant golf courses. But right after they’d left Hilton Head Plantation, Townsend turned down a snippet of a road and slowed down.
“Are we by Park Creek?” Hennessy asked.
“We are indeed.” Another right turn had them creeping down a dark drive, approaching a modest home. Modest given what Townsend could afford, but it was cute as a bug’s butt. “This is yours?” Hennessy bubbled. “You’ve got a house with a screened-in porch? Goddamn, Townsend, that’s the one thing I’ve always dreamed of. Having a place to sit and not be dinner for a billion skeeters.”
“My house is your house, baby girl.” She parked in front and they both got out, with Hennessy rocking back on her heels as she took the place in.
It was traditional Low Country style, two and a half stories, with stairs that led to a wide porch flanking the entire front of the house. That porch was just begging for a swing.
A long dock jutted out from the border of the property, leading to what Hennessy knew was a tidal canal. “I bet you’ve got deep water over half the day.”
“The real estate agent promised eighteen hours every day,” Townsend said. “And the dock’s private.”
“How long until you get a boat? Or are there already three in that sweet garage?”
“Nope. I’m not sure I’ll get one. Maybe a sailboat one day, but I’ve never been much of a powerboat girl. Too noisy.”
“You’ll have to get something,” Hennessy insisted. “Something little with a trolling motor.” She smacked her lips together. “Damn, the fishing would be fine out here early in the morning.”
“Another thing I’ve never been fond of.”
Hennessy draped an arm around Townsend’s shoulders, still gazing at her house. “I’ll work on you. I’m confident I’ll have you out there in no time.”
Properties near the water couldn’t have living space on the ground floor because flooding was always a threat. So the house was elevated, with nothing but a false front at ground level. But attached to the left side of the home was a wide garage. Hennessy walked over and peered into the windows, seeing the left side was for cars and the right for storage.
“I’m going to have this filled up with toys,” Townsend promised. “As you can see, I’ve already got a bike. I’m not sure what else I’ll get, but it’ll be something fun.”
“Not a doubt in my mind,” Hennessy agreed. “Can we go inside? This bag’s heavy!”
Townsend gave her a slap to the belly, then jogged up the stairs to wiggle her key in the knob of the bright blue door. Reaching inside, she flicked on the exterior lights, illuminating the buttercream yellow cladding.
“You’ve got the cutest little yellow house I’ve ever seen,” Hennessy said. “Metal roof?”
“Uh-huh. Blue. Not as blue as the door, but pretty blue.”
“Love it.” They went inside and moved from the front to the rear of the house, with Hennessy exclaiming with delight as each room was revealed. “Bare and beautiful,” she declared. “
You’ll have these rooms prettied up in no time.”
When they reached the kitchen, Hennessy dropped her bag onto a prep island and let out a low whistle. “It’s not as fancy as your place in Boston, but it’s bigger.” She ran her hand along the dark gray granite counters. “Damned nice, Townsend. Really fine.”
“The house isn’t huge, but it’s plenty big for me. Upstairs there’s a big master suite, a good sized guest room and a smaller bedroom that I’ll use as an office. The living room will come in handy when it’s chilly, but I think I’ll be on the porch all the time.”
“That reminds me.” Hennessy started pulling things out of her bag. “I need something to heat water with. And gobs of ice.”
A while later, they sat on some cheap, molded plastic chairs, sipping sweet tea while relishing the cooling breeze. “I had no idea the secret to sweet tea was adding a little baking soda,” Townsend said, raising her glass towards Hennessy.
“I didn’t make it the traditional way,” she said. “I used half the sugar, since I know you don’t usually use any in your tea.”
“Half?” She let out a laugh. “I’d cut it in half again. But it’s really delicious.”
A memory flooded over her and Hennessy found herself saying, “I remember the day Mary Ann asked me to have you in my cabin. We were drinking sweet tea in her office while she hoodwinked me.” She let out a quiet laugh. “If you’d told me then that one day I’d be sitting on your porch, having a perfectly lovely time, I would have had to call you a bold-faced liar.”
“Life’s full of surprises, isn’t it?”
“Truer words were never—” Her phone rang and she started. Kate’s ring. Damn! Other than complaining a little, she hadn’t spent two seconds thinking of her. She’d almost forgotten about Boston and Harvard and everything else that had occupied her so completely for so long. “I’ve got to take this.”
Townsend reached into her pocket, pulled out her car keys and tossed them to Hennessy who caught them defensively as she answered, “Hi, sweetheart.”
“I’ll see you at work,” Townsend mouthed, getting up to go inside and close the door.
Eating breakfast with Mary Ann and the counselors was vaguely close to normal, but it was going to take a lot of adult interaction to get past her living situation. Sharing a cabin with six high school kids and one girl about to start college was damned strange, as if Hennessy had lost eight years of her life. But it was free, and that made up for an awful lot.
Kate had been beyond generous to only ask for the same amount Hennessy had been putting into their joint account every month. That left her with a hearty surplus, given her new job paid more than twice what her stipend had been, and she had plans for every spare dollar.
After breakfast, Mary Ann walked her over to her new office. It was one of the counselor’s cabins, the smallest one, soon to be joined by three, well appointed suite-style cabins for the instructors she and Townsend would soon be hiring.
She paused in front of Night Heron, grinning at Mary Ann when their eyes met. “Like coming home,” she said. “I spent a lot of time in here with Destiny, usually moaning about the fits Townsend was giving me.”
Mary Ann gazed at the weathered gray clapboards, protected by the roof’s wide overhang. “You can change the name if you want to. Something more official-sounding.”
“I like it just like it is,” Hennessy said. “No surprise there. I like most things to stay just like they are.”
Mary Ann put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. “I like things I can rely on too. Like you.” Adding a quick kiss on the cheek, she pulled away. “I’ve got to go gather up my chicks. I’m sure someone will be wandering around, crying about now.”
“I hope your day’s as good as mine’s going to be,” Hennessy said. “Maybe we’ll see you at lunch.”
She climbed the three stairs and opened the door. Townsend was just stepping out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam following her. “Hey!” she said brightly.
“Were you taking a shower?”
“Uh-huh. Had to. I ran over.” She kicked her foot up behind her, reached back and pulled on it. The purr she let out made Hennessy’s mouth go dry. How could she look and sound so sexy simply stretching her muscles? “It feels good to make your body work hard, doesn’t it?”
She tried to speak, but had to work to think of a reply. Townsend wasn’t a kid putting on a facade any more. She was a mature, sexy woman who clearly enjoyed her body. “Sure,” was all she could manage.
Townsend went back into the bath and hung the towel on the rack, then she stood in front of the mirror and combed her hair. “I run a few miles every other day. We’ll see how long I keep that up in this humidity.”
Now that Townsend was doing something mundane, Hennessy could yank herself from her crazy, inappropriate bout of fantasy. “I feel like a jerk for taking your car.” She was able to fashion a smile she was fairly sure seemed natural. “Nice ride, by the way. I’ve never driven anything with so much pickup. That big white stripe down the hood made me feel like I was in a race.”
“I love my little car, but I don’t think I’ll need it much. I’d rather ride my bike or run to work.”
“You’ll get over that when it’s above ninety,” Hennessy predicted. “So? Where do we start?”
They stood in the main room, which contained a desk and a rolling chair, a padded side chair and an old sofa. “We can flip for this room. Loser gets the smaller one.”
Hennessy walked across the wooden floor to peek into the smaller room. “Not bad. The windows at each end will allow for a nice cross breeze. I’ll take this if you want the bigger one. You’re the boss, after all.”
“Hmm.” Townsend looked around, then moved to various spots, assessing the big room from all perspectives. “Ideally, we’d have three rooms. I’d like to have a space to welcome our instructors.”
“We could share this room and make the smaller one kind of a lounge.”
“That would look weird.” She faced Hennessy. “Do you need much privacy?”
“Nope. Almost none.”
“Then why don’t we share the small room and make this the lounge? I’ve got the budget to put some decent furniture in here, and we could get a dorm-sized refrigerator for drinks. Are you up for it?”
“Let’s get moving,” Hennessy said, walking over to the desk and settling her hands on the edge. “Can you pick it up?”
“Can I pick it up,” she scoffed. “I haven’t been rowing on the Charles for nothing.”
They maneuvered the desk into the smaller room, then rearranged things three times before they settled on putting two desks, face-to-face, right in the center of the room. That gave them the most space to move around.
“I’d like whiteboards on these two walls,” Hennessy said, pointing to the two walls without windows. “I like to have my deadlines staring me right in the face.”
“Got it.” Townsend took out her phone and spoke into it, making a note. “What else do you need?”
Hennessy sat on the desk, scooting back so she could let her legs dangle. “Not a lot. A computer, a good color printer, unless you’re planning on having our promotional materials done elsewhere… If so, a black and white one’s cheaper.” She thought for a moment. “A file cabinet and some office supplies. We can use the scanner in the main office, along with the fax machine. No sense in duplicating things we won’t use often. That’s about it.”
Townsend sat on her own desk, mirroring Hennessy. “I can go pick all of that up today.”
“You can?” Her eyebrows hiked up as high as they went. “You’ve got that kind of authority?”
“Yep.” She grinned devilishly. “I told Mary Ann I needed signing authority for up to ten thousand dollars. She didn’t blink.”
“Day-uhm!” Hennessy moaned. “When Mary Ann gives you that kind of money to spend, you’ve convinced her you can walk on water.”
“We’ll just see, won’t we,” she said, not show
ing the slightest bit of doubt. “I’ll go shopping right now if you can’t think of anything else. Want to go with me?”
“Sure. But let me at least show you what I’ve devised as a working calendar.” She pulled out a big roll of butcher paper, upon which she’d neatly drawn each month, with notes scribbled along it. “Take a look at this and see if it sounds right.”
Townsend got up and spread it across their desks, her index finger running across the months as she made a few quiet murmurs of approval. “When’s Easter?”
Hennessy pointed to a date. “That’s why there’s a decorated egg there. Are you unfamiliar with standard calendar notations?”
“My bad. They must teach you that when you get your doctorate.” When her finger hit the end of their year—the end of May, she stood back and took another look at the whole thing. “How many sessions?”
“Twelve, spaced over twenty weeks. The intro classes will be for a week, two for more advanced work and three for the masters session. We’ll only have one of those this year.”
Townsend moved back and took another long look at the schedule. “If we fill every bed for every week, we’ve got twelve hundred slots, but we’ll make a profit if we can pull eight hundred.” She turned and gave Hennessy a sober look. “Can we do it?”
“I think so. Most programs like this are in the summer, but I know there are a lot of people who have free time during the year. Finding eight hundred of them shouldn’t be too hard.”
Townsend clapped her hands together, confidence back in place. “This looks great. I’ve already hired a local graphic designer, and we’re going to meet with her this afternoon. By the end of the week she’ll have a draft of our catalogue, then we can start beating the bushes, finding students.”
Hennessy’s eyes grew big. “Don’t forget I’ve got to find a bunch of instructors.”
The Right Time Page 46