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

  The sky darkened to slate as Delia grew and gained momentum, twirling toward Cape Lookout just as Hurricane Irene had. Tadie looked over at Eb, who seemed to be polishing his toes. “How come my forebears didn’t pick Brunswick, Georgia, or someplace like that to settle—some coastal town that doesn’t get hurricanes? We might have liked Georgia.”

  Instead, her spit of land sucked those storms right in like a magnet dragging in iron.

  The porch furniture was in the barn and all the planters under cover. James had fixed the loose shutters and closed all but those over the sink.

  “I’ll do those two at the last minute,” Tadie told him. “You go fill up that tub of yours. Pots and pans too. You got your windows covered?”

  “Yesterday. Elvie insisted. Didn’t want me climbin’ a ladder in the wind or rain.”

  “Good for her. The shop windows are being secured, so there’s not much left to do but wait.”

  “I hear they been evacuating the beaches since yesterday. I been down to check on Mr. Bobby and Miss Angie. All’s ready at their house, ’ceptin’ they needed more candles. I took some extras you’d brought us. Miss Juniper’s gone off with family, I guess. Her house is empty.”

  “Thanks for checking. This one’s coming fast, isn’t it? I’d better find out when Isa will arrive.”

  “Company’ll ease the time.”

  Isa was out and about, away from her phone. Tadie dialed Hannah’s number. “Everything okay there?”

  “It is. Except I’m hoping the hurricane will blow Alex somewhere else.”

  Tadie smiled at the disgust in Hannah’s voice. “He’s getting to you?”

  “Who remembered he could be so pouty? Land sakes, all he talks about is the raw deal he’s getting from Bethanne, how he gave her so much, now look at what she’s doing. Matt doesn’t need this and, frankly, I don’t either. Alex actually had the gall to suggest Matt do some of the heavy work yesterday.”

  “I’m sorry. All I can say is he was a big help hauling Luna. I appreciate you sending him.”

  “I didn’t.” The disgust now sounded like a good mad coming on. “Didn’t even know he’d gone until he said so afterward, even though he went off with Matt’s truck. Don’t give him any points for altruism. He was pretty pleased with himself.”

  “I must have misunderstood.”

  “All I can say is, watch out for him.”

  “Yes ma’am. You can count on that. You know how I feel.”

  Replacing the receiver, Tadie grabbed her keys and headed out to see if anything needed doing at the shop. There, the man she’d hired had just about finished nailing boards and plywood in front of the windows.

  She headed back home, checking the neighborhood as she passed. Shut down and boarded up.

  Best thing she could do was use up the fresh and frozen vegetables that would spoil when the electricity shut down, as it always did during a storm. She was adding broth to the pot of soup when Will called. She didn’t give herself time to think about that flurry of excitement his words created. She turned off the stove, wiped her hands, and headed out again.

  The Nancy Grace stood at the end of a row of boats, just down from one that still had its roller furling and bimini up. Tadie hoped the fellows scurrying around with last minute tie-downs were planning to deal with that one.

  Jilly, decked out in her slicker to ward off the few raindrops that had begun to fall, called down from the companionway steps where she stood guard. “Watch the ladder. It’s wobbly. Daddy’s almost ready.”

  “Permission to come aboard?” Tadie called up to Jilly.

  Jilly turned and poked her head back inside. “Daddy, Tadie asked permission to come aboard. Can I say yes?”

  Will’s laughter came from below. Jilly’s head swiveled back and her little voice shouted out, “Permission granted!”

  Once on board, Tadie gave her hand to Jilly, who pulled her down into the salon. “I’ve packed Tubby. Is that okay?”

  “Of course. I’ll be happy to have him.” To Will, she said, “Anything I can do to help?”

  “I think we’re ready,” he said, adding the soft cooler he’d packed to the bags on deck.

  They made it back to the house just as the rain began to fall in earnest. Scurrying inside, they shed their wet coats and hung them on hooks in the pantry.

  Isa sat on the chintz couch at the far end of the big kitchen, watching the news. “I made myself at home,” she called. “I wondered if you two would come. Aren’t we going to have a grand party?” She pointed to Jilly’s backpack with the bear’s head poking out. “And who is that?” When Jilly introduced Tubby, Isa told her how important friends were. “And it looks like he’s a good one.”

  “He is. He’s been my friend forever.”

  Tadie turned the soup back on low as the others gathered to watch a television meteorologist discuss satellite overlays on the big weather map. “When do they expect landfall?” she asked.

  Isa looked up from examining Jilly’s bear. “Tomorrow morning. I wish it would turn right and head someplace else, like the middle of the Atlantic. They’re calling it a Category Three, but what’ll it be by the time it lands after sucking up all that Gulf Stream heat?”

  Tadie got to her feet and tried to sound cheerful. “We’ll be fine. The shutters are closed, except for those two, and maybe you can help there, Will. The boats are all secured, and the shop’s boarded. Isa? Is your condo set?”

  As Will pulled on his slicker and slipped out the back door, Isa answered with a twinkle in her eye. “My neighbor and I worked together. You won’t believe who he is.” She paused, waiting until Tadie’s brows rose in question. “Stefan Ward.”

  “No!”

  “Isn’t that a surprise? There he was, hauling boards in yesterday to take care of his new place, which happens to be a couple of balconies over from mine.”

  “Isa, that’s a hoot.” Tadie didn’t mention the blush she’d caught on Stefan’s face, but the memory provoked a smile as she checked on her soup. “It looks as if we’ll have a feast. Will brought a cooler, and I see one that must be yours. The candles are out and ready, and I’ve put flashlights by the beds. Have I forgotten anything?”

  Jilly piped up. “Where do you want us to sleep? It’s almost time for Tubby’s nap.”

  “Oh dear, I’m not being much of a hostess, am I? As soon as your daddy comes back, we’ll head upstairs.”

  * * * * *

  Tadie kept an eye on the child as Jilly ran her hand along the polished banister and occasionally peeked over the side to the hall below.

  “It sure is a long way down,” Jilly said.

  Resting a hand on the child’s shoulder, Tadie felt the soft swish of hair brush against her fingers. “Just be careful and you’ll be fine.”

  At the top landing, Will set down the bags and looked at his daughter. “No sliding down the banister, young lady.”

  “You mean like Eloise? Tadie, do you know about Eloise?”

  “The little girl who lived in a hotel?”

  Jilly’s head bobbed.

  “I loved reading her stories when I was your age.”

  “My favorite was when Eloise went to Paris,” Isa said.

  Jilly clapped. “You know her too? I haven’t read the Paris one yet.”

  “We’ll have to see about that, won’t we, Tadie?”

  “We will.” Tadie held out her hand and led the way through the first door on the left, flipping on the light as she entered. “I’ve put you in here, Jilly. My mother used this for her sitting room. Through that door is the dressing room and bath. Will, you can use that stool for Jilly’s case.”

  The décor was very feminine, soft shades of yellow, with billowy curtains over windows that opened to the garden when they weren’t barricaded behind shutters. A chaise longue covered in yellow and white silk stripes nestled in one corner, with a tall writing desk against a far wall. An old brass chest stood at the end of a ruffly bed piled high with satin pillows.
r />   Touching the bedspread, Jilly turned with wide eyes. “I get to sleep here?”

  “Yes ma’am. Right here.” She caught Jilly staring at the portrait over the fireplace. “My father commissioned that painting of my mother shortly after they were married.”

  Jilly studied the woman who looked down at them with that sweet, innocent smile. “Her yellow hair matches the room. What was her name?”

  “Caroline Longworth.”

  “She’s the one who called you Sara.”

  “She did.”

  “And,” Isa said, following them on the walk-through, “she also collected many of the beautiful stones Tadie uses in her jewelry.”

  Jilly showed Tubby the bed, settling him on the white coverlet. “She must have been a happy person.”

  “In her own way, probably happier than most.”

  Ebenezer picked that moment to join them. He paused in the doorway, sat on his haunches, and waited.

  “A cat!” Jilly left the bedside and eased toward Eb. “Can I pet it?”

  Tadie scooped up Eb and brought him near. “This is Ebenezer. Eb for short. He’s very lazy, which means he’s also very cuddly.”

  Jilly reached out a hand to stroke the cat. “Does he sleep with you?”

  “When he’s not roaming. Cats like the night, so he goes off to investigate after he knows I’m tucked in.” Tadie turned to Will as she lowered Eb to the floor. “If you don’t want him checking you out in the middle of the night, I’d suggest you shut your doors.”

  “He can come in with me.” Jilly continued her stroking.

  “He’s safe,” Tadie said. “He’s too indolent to be much trouble.”

  “Another word for lazy,” Will explained when Jilly looked up with a question in her eyes.

  Isa’s delicate laughter filled the room. “He’s a typical cat, Jilly. Independent as well as very lazy.”

  Tadie led the way into a large dressing room and from there to the bath. “These are your towels, Jilly,” she said, pointing to some light yellow ones. “The blue are for your daddy.” At the connecting door, Jilly wiggled under her outstretched arm, followed by Eb. “I’ve put you here, Will. This was my parents’ bedroom.”

  “I’m flattered,” Will said. “Thank you.”

  The furniture in the master suite was massive, with a lot of curly maple and walnut pieces. Muted beige and splashes of burgundy on the wing chair and pillows picked up the dark wine colors of the huge Oriental rug. A marble fireplace stood at the far end.

  “I see why your mother needed the sitting room,” Isa said. “She obviously decorated this for your father.”

  “It was very much him. He spent hours reading in that chair, even into the night when my mother had one of her spells and wanted to be alone but not far away.”

  Will picked up a photo from a low bookcase. “Your father?” he asked. “Very distinguished.”

  “He was wonderful.”

  Jilly looked up at her daddy, then at Tadie. “Was he old when he died?”

  “Much, much older than yours.” Tadie could almost hear Jilly’s sigh. She extended her hand again. “Let me show you the rest of the house.”

  Tadie pointed toward the front. “That’s my room, the one Eb is staking out. Next is another bathroom. And here is yours, Isa.”

  “Lovely.” Isa set her bag inside as Jilly peeked past her at the room. This one also held Caroline’s touch—mostly white with blue and purple chintz pillows on the bed and chair.

  “What about your brother? Where did he sleep?” Jilly asked as she looked around the hall.

  “Upstairs.”

  “You mean there’s another upstairs? It’s all so big. I’ve never seen bedrooms with fireplaces.”

  “Would you like to check out the attic?”

  At Jilly’s nod, everyone trooped up the back stairs. The room at the top extended the length of the house. “Bucky had a darkroom here along with his bath,” she said, opening the door to a room at the back of the space. “Daddy had this opened up and changed from servants’ quarters, adding those skylights. But we still wanted attic storage space, so that’s what those duck-under rooms are for.” She pointed to small doors opening off the main room.

  Jilly wrinkled her brow. “Duck-under?”

  “Look in one. You’ll see. The eaves come so low you’ve got to stoop to get to the things at the back. They’re great for little people. We used to play hide and seek in them.”

  Isa glanced at her watch. “I think it’s time for some of the goodies I brought. Shall I fix a plate of cheeses while you freshen up or whatever?”

  “Can I help?” Jilly asked. “I love cheese.”

  “May I?” Will corrected.

  “Sorry. May I help?”

  “You certainly may,” Isa said, waving Jilly forward.

  Outside, the wind picked up momentum. Although the evening still held no hint of violence, Tadie shivered, knowing what would follow.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jilly pouted when Will pointed her upstairs to bed. Tadie couldn’t blame her, poor little thing. Her first hurricane. But Will was adamant.

  “Will you come hear my prayers, Tadie?” The long lashes fell and lifted.

  Tadie almost swooned as she accompanied the child upstairs. For the first time in her life, she tucked covers up around a child, felt small arms circle her neck for a goodnight kiss, and listened to a child’s voice thank God for every single thing and person she could think of.

  “And, God, please take good care of all the boats tonight, but especially ours and Tadie’s. You know how much we love them, and the Nancy Grace is pretty much all Daddy and I have left of Mommy. And even if Tadie’s boat doesn’t make her remember her mommy, she loves it.” She peeked up at Tadie. “Is that okay?”

  “Very okay.” Tadie smoothed the freshly brushed hair around Jilly’s forehead—hair that Jilly had asked her to tame.

  Snap went Jilly’s eyes again. “And, God, an extra-special thank you for letting us stay in this beautiful house with Tadie and Isa. Will you tell Mommy where I am? I bet she’d like to know. And help Eb not be scared of the hurricane. Amen.”

  Then there was another hug, with thin arms pulling Tadie down, with sweet lips kissing her cheek. How would she make social conversation after that?

  She couldn’t. Returning to the kitchen where Isa and Will camped in front of the television, she announced, “Early to bed for me tonight. Things may get rowdy before too long.”

  Isa rose to her feet. “I’m with you,” she said, following Tadie up the stairs.

  Will, remaining below, called behind them. “I’ll be up soon. Good night, ladies.”

  “You go ahead and use the bath first,” Tadie told Isa as they said goodnight.

  She closed her door and began the process of getting ready for bed, the soft scent of little girl lingering in her nostrils. She’d finished her own ablutions and had climbed between her sheets when she heard the click of a door closing across the hall.

  She would not think of Will sitting in her daddy’s chair to ease out of his shoes. And she surely wouldn’t imagine him climbing into her daddy’s bed.

  She just wouldn’t.

  * * * * *

  The wind began to howl in earnest sometime after midnight, waking Eb. He circled her feet in search of comfort, but a crack of something breaking outside brought him to her shoulder. He nudged her chin, and his fur tickled her nose. She backed away. The rattle of his purr competed with wind noises.

  Had Will been in to check on Jilly yet?

  She wished ...

  No. None of that.

  But how was she supposed to be immune to such a child? Every time she looked at that little snip of a nose with its smattering of freckles and that red hair, she wanted to hug Jilly so hard there’d be no escaping—ever.

  If she kept on this way, she’d weep through the night instead of sleep.

  “Daddy, I miss you,” she whispered to the dark.

  Branches f
rom the old pecan tree scraped the shutters at the side of the house. She’d meant to have all six pruned before now. Why did she remember they needed trimming only when the wind threatened to do it for her? It wouldn’t be nearly as kind. Her mama’s birdbath and stone bench sat under one of the old trees. Maybe James had remembered to take off the top part of the bath so it couldn’t blow off and shatter.

  This was her first hurricane since Samuel Longworth’s death, the first she’d had to get through without his humor and calm steadiness.

  She blinked, as if she could see him standing at the foot of her bed in his silk dressing gown with his unlit pipe in his hand, come for a cozy chat. He hadn’t smoked the pipe in years, but he liked to carry it around and sometimes fit it to his lips for the memory of it, the lingering scent.

  Edging around, he’d sit in the place she patted, asking, “What’s on your mind, lovey?” He’d say something reassuring about Elvie, tell her how proud he was of their young Rita. He’d laugh at the thought of Rita’s Jewish doctor. The rebel in him, the part of him that fit here in the South and yet didn’t, mostly because he’d seen so much and been so many places in his youth, would like that Rita had a mind of her own.

  A tear slid down her cheek. “Daddy, do you see what’s happening with that child? What am I going to do?”

  Was that his voice whispering? She heard or maybe only remembered his words. Loving’s a good thing. Don’t mind the risk. Just keep your head on straight.

  “I know. I’ll try.”

  He laughed—didn’t he?—at the fix Alex had gotten himself into. Serves him right. He’s the one who messed in Bethanne’s garden. Now he’d better figure out how to tend those flowers they grew.

  She smiled at his absurd metaphor.

  It’s what he’d have wanted—her smile. He always used to pick something off-the-wall like that, knowing she caught the words intended. She could have said them for him. Instead, they played the game.

  “In the beginning, I wished it on him,” she said to the image that felt real. “I wanted his marriage to be a mess so he’d come back to me.”

  I know, baby. I was here, remember?

  “He’s started coming after me again. You saw him help me bring in Luna.”