Becalmed: When a Southern woman with a broken heart finds herself falling for a widower with a broken boat, it's anything but smooth sailing.

by Normandie Fischer

  She smiled that precious smile so like Nancy’s and turned on her side, tucking her knees up and hugging Tubby.

  “Love you, punkin,” he said as he stepped over the sill and into the salon.

  He turned down the lamp and headed up to the cockpit. Sounds drifted across the water—music from someplace on shore, laughter, a shout or two, pots clanging on a large ketch anchored nearby. A slight breeze blew across the water, cooling the evening air.

  Jilly wanted to get to Baltimore. After that they were supposed to head over to the Eastern Shore where her Aunt Liz had a home. But Liz reminded him so much of Nancy, sometimes the hurt was more than he could bear.

  Maybe they’d get north in time. And maybe not.

  Disappointment was something Jilly had learned early—disappointment and pain. He’d done his best to make it up to her.

  He just hoped he was doing enough.

  Chapter Four

  Squawking ducks woke Tadie. Ducks, seagulls, sometimes even a pelican plopping out in the creek, acted as her alarm most mornings, although today it would have been the shimmering heat if the ducks hadn’t started things so early. Not even the hint of a breeze sifted through the screens. Yesterday’s thunderhead had dropped rain east of here, up around Davis, and had made a spectacle of itself shooting lightning out over the banks, but only oppressive humidity drenched Beaufort.

  She flicked the switch on her bedroom coffeemaker, curbing her impatience as it dripped to fill one cup. Stirring, sipping, she sighed. Was anything better than a strong cup of coffee, brewed just right and colored to a creamy topaz? She carried her cup to the bed and watched the light brighten as the world came awake. An outboard varoomed to a start someplace on the creek—a fisherman or perhaps one of the dinghies from an anchored yacht.

  Eb wandered in from his night’s roam through the house and leapt up next to her, nudging her free hand with his head. She stroked down his back once. “Good morning to you too,” she said as he settled at her hip.

  The coffee’s aroma filled the room until the heady scent of jasmine eventually took its place. Mornings like this, the heavy air held fragrances close to home, which was why her mama had planted jasmine to lace up the trellis out front. Mama had called it the perfume of the gods, and though the flowers only released their scent at night, it lingered.

  Tadie eased away from Ebenezer, who uncurled and rolled toward the spot she’d vacated on the sheet. “Spoiled cat,” she said as she headed to the shower.

  She’d just turned off the water when the phone pealed. She grabbed a towel, walked to the bedside table, and checked the caller ID.

  “Got your coffee yet?” Hannah asked.

  Tadie smoothed the towel on her bed and lay on it to drip-dry, relishing the feel of dampness on her flesh as the fan blades above her bed whirred methodically. “That and a shower. This might be the last cool moment I spend today.”

  “Call the electrician.”

  “I’d better. I dread even having to go to the Food Lion.”

  “Least it’s air conditioned. Why you put up with your mama’s antiquated ways is beyond me. If you’d listened last year when I told you to get a new system installed, you wouldn’t be moaning now.”

  Tadie finger-combed wet hair away from her face. “I should have, but it was too soon. You know?”

  “I suppose.” Hannah’s sigh sounded loud, as if she’d rearranged the receiver before breathing into it. Tadie heard a spoon click against porcelain. That explained it. Hannah, who sometimes added so much sugar her spoon ought to stand upright, was multitasking.

  “That’s better,” Hannah said after a slurping sip. “Now, before you go brave the heat, I’ve got to tell you about the Straits house.”

  “Ah. The dinner.”

  “You okay hearing this?”

  “I’d better get used to it. He’s not leaving town just because I want him to.”

  “First thing, I told Matt he needed to get home early, but that didn’t happen. I don’t get him. He got his brother down here so he wouldn’t have to work so much, and still he goes in at seven and works all hours. What’s Alex going to think?”

  At the mention of Alex’s name, Tadie turned on her stomach and pulled the towel over her exposed flesh. “Maybe Matt can work inside and Alex out,” she said after rearranging the towel to make sure nothing showed.

  “Maybe, but Doc says Matt needs to avoid anxiety and follow orders, or his old heart might not make it.”

  “Are you sure that’s what he said? I mean, forty-one’s way too young to have an old heart.”

  “Especially when we’re not so many years behind.”

  “I’m counting on at least forty good ones left.”

  “Why stop there? Why not fifty?”

  “Mama and Daddy.” Saying their names together made Tadie’s throat constrict. She hated remembering all at once like that. Easing into it was one thing, but thinking how quickly they’d gone after her brother Bucky’s death was another. Four years total, and now she was the only one left.

  “It won’t happen to you. Don’t even think about it. Anyway, I’ve got to convince Matt to follow the doctor’s orders to lose weight and take his meds. He’s got to be proactive if he wants to get better.”

  “Amen to that. No more heart attacks.”

  “I refuse to let that man die. I told him flat out he can’t leave us to turn into doddering old biddies, keeping each other company as we rock on our porches and gossip about the neighbors.”

  “Lord, preserve us.”

  She thought back to their old taunt. “Oo-oo, girl, you’re gonna turn into another Miss Etta.” Miss Etta was Tadie’s next-door neighbor and just a little scary. She used to chase her daughter’s chickens, her wispy hair flying as she waved a broom and screeched until Juniper corraled her mama onto the porch and her rocker. Not too many years ago, Juniper had also taken to creaking in that chair and watching the world pass along Front Street. But Juniper didn’t do broom handles, and the chickens were long gone.

  “You tell Matt to be good,” she said. “Is Alex actually helping?”

  “He’d better be. The place is a stress factory. You wouldn’t think logging would be so hard, but Matt makes it that way. He can’t keep his fingers out of all the pies they’ve got going, and he wants everything to happen his way. You know Matt.”

  “Got to be the boss.”

  “Exactly. And speaking of people being bored, it seems Bethanne’s already begging Alex to get her a place in New Bern so she can leave the Straits house for weekends.”

  “I bet that went over well.” Tadie tried to keep her voice light, but her fingers clutched the receiver, picturing Bethanne the last time she’d seen her, years ago, strutting around, eyes glinty and her smile all Cheshire-like.

  “She finished redoing the house, got rid of all her mama’s beach furniture, and replaced everything with heavy antiques. Lord love her, the place didn’t used to be so bad. Now it’s like a mausoleum. Anyway, she’s done with that and gone to spending days playing bridge and sunbathing at the Dunes Club. When winter hits, she’ll go batty.” A cup clinked as if against its saucer. “I need you to come and play buffer at dinner on Friday.”

  Had Hannah actually suggested she join them? “You know that won’t work,” Tadie said with an edge to her voice. “Anything else, I’m there for you, but I’m not putting myself in front of, between, or anywhere around the two of them—not if I can help it.”

  “I figured you’d say that. I can’t beg or bribe?”

  “Nope. Not for love nor money. If he hadn’t called the other day, maybe. I hadn’t given him a thought for ages. But calling put him over the top on the creep list and got me dwelling on things I don’t want to think about.”

  Like missing out on all she’d never see or feel from this side of marriage. But she wasn’t about to say those things aloud.

  Hannah heaved an exaggerated sigh. “I know. Bethanne makes me want to stuff a rag in her mouth. I already had
to deal with her by myself last night. I’m not sure I can stand a repeat so soon. Matt’s the one who invited them, bless his little heart. I wanted to wring his neck when I heard him tell them to come.”

  “Why don’t you take them out? You could let a waiter be the buffer since I won’t.”

  “You think?”

  “Take them to Aqua. Or Front Street Grill. If you hit either of them late enough and reserve a table near the bar, you won’t hear a thing Bethanne says.”

  “Girl, you’re bad. Didn’t I hear something about a new chef at Aqua?”

  “You did. And Isa says she’s living up to her press.” Tadie narrowed her eyes at the thought of Alex and Bethanne snuggled in one of those booths, enjoying tapas and wine.

  At least she wouldn’t have to witness it.

  “I’ll see what Matt says. Anyway, I’m hoping they’ll move up to New Bern. She’s pushing for it.”

  “I guess New Bern’s got enough Northerners to keep her happy.”

  “They can all go complain together,” Hannah said. “They’ll tell each other how awful the South is and ask why we don’t do things right.”

  “Can’t you just hear it?”

  “Matt asked her once why her parents stayed if they hated it so much. Why they didn’t just move back where they came from.”

  “And what did she say?”

  “That they could afford it, and the weather suited. Then—and, honey, I remember the moment because I wanted to toss my drink right on that frosted hair she was so busy patting—if she didn’t put on her superior smile and go on about what they could make of the town if only enough educated people moved in. As if nobody south of the Mason-Dixon went to college.” Hannah mumbled something that sounded like dratted Yankees. “Why the heck don’t they do us all a favor and go home?”

  “Please, yes.” Tadie almost felt sorry for Hannah, but not enough to sit down to dinner with Matt’s kin. “For your sake, I wish I could help you. Friday wouldn’t work anyway because it’s Elvie’s surgery.”

  “I’m sorry. I’d completely forgotten.”

  “If they find it’s spread …”

  “Don’t say it.”

  Tadie wiggled on the towel, the phone cradled at her neck, watching the sunlight dapple the wall. If only Friday were over with, Alex long gone, and she could take Luna out—this time alone—with only the water beneath and the sky above, with no need to think and no need to speak.

  * * * * *

  Errands forced her into a sundress. She patted her cheeks just thinking about the heat index with all that humidity hanging on and the forecasters expecting it to hit a hundred degrees by noon. What the county needed was a good drenching.

  As she loaded her grocery cart, she imagined herself barricaded behind the air-conditioned walls of her studio. She’d stay cool—and go stir crazy.

  Hannah was right. It was past time to call George Harding over at Miller Electric and see about getting a whole-house unit.

  Her mama had been the one who’d hated air conditioning. Tadie could just hear Caroline Longworth’s soft voice drawling instructions as she fanned herself and rocked languidly on the big front porch. Her mother had lived in a pretend world, where all things were lovely and all people good. Where gentleness reigned and mint juleps, sipped in frosted glasses, were the perfect elixir. Miss Caroline would wave at folk who’d stop to stare at their big house and turn to ask whoever was sitting out there with her, “Should we offer them tea?” She never realized the passersby were merely gawking tourists impressed by the white columns and imposing façade of the house her great-granddaddy had built.

  After stacking the last can on the pantry shelves, Tadie let Eb back inside and dialed to retrieve her messages. Alex’s voice surprised her. “Sorry I missed you at the shop yesterday. Perhaps this afternoon?”

  She suppressed a curse as she punched Delete. Would he never let her be? She itched to chuck the phone across the room. It would thud on impact and the plastic would shatter, making a lovely cracking sound—and putting a hole in the plaster. Of course, when James came to fix it, he’d raise those bushy grey eyebrows and ask a question or two.

  It was too bad cursing and chucking had been bred right out of her.

  She set the kettle on to boil. Speaking of James, there he was, rattling around with the hose out back, watering the wilting vegetable garden as she’d asked. She could have turned on the hose herself, but that would only upset him. Now that her daddy was dead, James hated accepting a paycheck, said he didn’t do enough to warrant one.

  Which is why she hadn’t sold her daddy’s Lincoln. Nor simplified the garden.

  Summer days when James handed over more tomatoes than anyone could use—or zucchini or peppers or beans—Elvie Mae just smiled her sweet smile and said, “Ain’t these gonna make a goodly supply?” And when the extra jars Elvie put up got hauled over to the women’s shelter, she said, “Your daddy’d be mighty proud.”

  Darling Elvie Mae. Tadie felt herself tearing and wiped at her eyes. If James couldn’t think straight about the parched garden, he must be really worried.

  While the tea steeped, she distracted herself with thoughts of phones and folk who shouldn’t be using them to call other folk. The nerve of that Alex. As if he could just smile his smile and speak his cajoling words and think that was it, she’d come running.

  Not this woman. Not even if Alex Morgan were the last man in Beaufort.

  Stepping off the porch and out from under the oak tree’s canopy, she felt the full force of that August furnace. And there was James, hoeing around the tomato plants, hatless as usual. She’d told him to find inside work on days like this, but he’d answered the same as always. “Sun don’t hurt me none, Miss Sara. Sun and rain, they each got a time and a place. God be seein’ to that.”

  The remembered cadence of his words rolled over her, the sound of his deep baritone, which had barely weakened with the passing years. James would never call her anything but her given name. Just like her mama.

  On first hearing Bucky use the nickname with his little-boy lisp, Mama’d tilted her head and squinted, trying to make sense of it. “But you’re Sara. I remember.”

  Daddy’d patted Mama’s hand, but he’d gone back and forth, fitting the name to his audience. Didn’t matter to him. As for James, he’d stood staunchly with Mama. “Miss Sara, your mama wants to call you what she named you and I ain’t arguing. Not with you or your little brother. No sense distressin’ Miz Caroline.”

  In the garden, James passed a blue bandana over his brow and picked up the hoe. He began the upswing, saw her coming, and the hoe stopped its arc. “Hey there, Miss Sara.”

  “Good morning.” She tried to put a lilt in her voice, tried to overcome the heat and the thing they didn’t want to mention. “Thought you might like something cold,” she said, handing him a tall plastic cup filled with water and ice cubes. “I put a pitcher of sweet tea on the back porch. You get thirsty again, you can fill up there.”

  “You didn’t need to do that, Miss Sara. I could fix it myself.”

  “I know Elvie Mae’s the one who reminds you to drink when you’re out here, and she’s probably not feeling up to it today. So you come help yourself.”

  “Mighty grateful to you.”

  “How’s her headache?”

  “’Bout the same. Seems she’s frettin’ more’n she lets on.”

  Tadie laid a hand on his shoulder. She was surprised to feel bones protruding where there’d always been muscle. James couldn’t be older than sixty.

  She shook off those thoughts and lifted her hand, speaking briskly as if that gave the words authority. “She’ll be fine.” They just had to get through the next few days. Surely, the surgery would show the lump encapsulated and not spread to her lymph nodes—or elsewhere.

  “Yes ma’am. The good Lord’s watchin’ out for her. I know that.”

  “When’s Rita coming?”

  “In time for her mama’s surgery. Only got the one d
ay off, even it being Friday, ’cause she’s supposed to help depose some folk for her boss the next mornin’.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t make no sense to me, but she’s that way.” James kicked at a furrow and stomped it flat. Seeming surprised that he’d mashed it, he shook his head and loosened the dirt again with the hoe.

  Fidgeting wasn’t like James. “Fly her into New Bern,” Tadie said. “And take the Lincoln to bring her to the hospital. The surgery’s not until ten. You’ll make it back in plenty of time.” She brushed a wisp of damp hair off her forehead. “You stop your worrying, James. I’ll be there with Elvie. Don’t you imagine I won’t. Think how much Rita’s going to need to see her daddy with his big smile waiting there for her. They’ll be sticking Elvie with a needle, making her drowsy. You won’t miss much. And all the time, I’ll be right there holding her hand.”

  “I sure thank you, Miss Sara.”

  “It’ll give Rita more time with Elvie after the surgery. And I’ll take care of the ticket. I’m just grateful they reinstated flights to Raleigh.”

  “You don’t need to do that, Miss Sara. I got the money.”

  “Let me do it this time. Rita’s family to me too.”

  James looked away, but not before Tadie saw the glistening in his eyes. “She thinks the world of you.”

  Tadie felt her own tears hovering. “Elvie Mae will be just fine.” She cleared her throat. “If there’s anything there, they’ll get it. She has a good doctor.”

  James nodded. “She does that. And a lot of prayers. I got to remember that.”

  Chapter Five

  It was after two o’clock when Tadie pushed open the door to Down East Creations and set her box of finished pieces on the counter.

  The bells brought Isa from behind the jewelry case. “I’m not a happy camper, Tadie. I just sold your periwinkle necklace to a very undeserving woman from Charlotte. I kept imagining it with my new blouse. Wouldn’t it have been perfect?” She twirled, modeling the gauzy peasant blouse and bright turquoise skirt.

  Long and lithe, Isa Wellington looked more like a leftover hippie than a math teacher who’d decided to move out of Wilmington, Delaware. The moving out of Delaware part didn’t seem all that strange. Either Tadie or Hannah would have done the same thing. But Hannah, who’d barely squeaked through Algebra II, never could wrap her mind around the fact that someone who looked like Isa could actually enjoy math enough to teach it.