Dear Tadie, I apologize for taking so long to write this. First, I want to thank you for your hospitality to Jilly and me. And for your friendship. Jilly can’t stop talking about you and asks me almost daily when we can visit you again. I imagine I have ruined our chances for that to happen, but I promised her I’d write.
“The jerk,” Hannah said. “He writes because his daughter wants him to?”
Tadie’s lips thinned. She relaxed them before continuing.
I may have misjudged you.
“He may have? And he thinks I’m going to appreciate him saying so?”
“Go on,” Hannah urged.
Clearing her throat, Tadie picked up the letter again.
I’m sorry if I let my feelings cloud my judgment.
“What feelings?” Hannah wanted to know.
Tadie ignored the interruption, but she’d like an answer to that one herself. Did he mean the feelings of anger—or of something else? And why had he been angry in the first place?
I was wondering if you would ever be willing to see us again, and if so, when?
“I don’t think so.” Hannah’s outrage cheered her.
Tadie turned the envelope over and studied the return address and postmark, Georgetown, MD, wherever that was, mailed the day before she’d left New York. It had been sitting here, unopened, for almost three weeks. She guessed Will had his answer.
“The letter says he and Jilly are moving to Baltimore’s Inner Harbor on the Nancy Grace.” Tadie refolded the note and stuffed it in its envelope, which she set aside on the stack of unopened and unimportant mail. Her breathing had started to calm, so she picked up her spoon and took another bite of the dahl, but the lentils tasted like paste. She pushed aside the plate and sipped at her wine. “Did I ever tell you how beautiful the Nancy Grace is inside?”
“Yes, you did. But don’t let a pretty boat seduce you. You’ve got your own pretty boat. Are you going to write him back?”
“And did I say how much I envy their lifestyle?”
Hannah’s long nails tapped on the table. “Why?”
“They get to see the world by sea.”
“Yeah. Sounds like they’re seeing lots of it. The Inner Harbor of Baltimore. Big whoop.”
Tadie couldn’t help herself. She hooted. “Big whoop? Where did you hear that?”
“One of Alex’s daughters. The little princesses came to see him one afternoon while you were gone. They’re exactly like Bethanne—horrible.”
“Maybe if their daddy cared more, they’d be nicer people. Poor things.”
“Amen.” Hannah rolled flat bread around in her curry sauce. “Do you ever think Alex may not have been the person you imagined—even back when we were young?”
“Honey, I found that out back when he gave Bethanne the ring.”
“Yeah, but I thought maybe you’d clung to your fantasies over the years. Being with him when you were young might have made it harder for other men to measure up. And now he’s back and hanging out at your place.”
Tadie shifted nervously in her seat. “He’s been over once with dinner. Yes, we had fun, but it doesn’t mean anything.”
“He seems to think it does.”
“How do you know?”
“The way he strutted when he got back from seeing you. Like he knew something we’re too dumb to understand.”
Tadie ground her teeth. She’d like to grind Alex. Had she encouraged him by having a little fun over that Mexican dinner? Things had relaxed between them because he hadn’t pushed or pouted. Sure, he’d flirted, but harmlessly, no more than always. He was still married, and he knew that meant he was off limits.“Maybe he wants you and Matt to think there’s something going on because Bethanne dumped him.”
Hannah spooned more curry onto her plate. “Since he was your first, you might find it hard to say no to him now, seeing as how the rest of the pickings in town are so slim.”
Tadie closed her eyes. Here it was. She could feel herself about to break all the years of silence.
Maybe she shouldn’t say anything. Maybe she ought to let Hannah think what she would.
Her eyes opened and the words popped out. “I never slept with him.”
Hannah’s fork dropped to her plate. “What?”
“You heard me. I never had sex with Alex.”
“But he said—”
“I don’t care what he said or didn’t say. It didn’t happen.”
“But I just assumed. You never contradicted him. You never told me.”
“Because Matt was all you could talk about. How great he was. I didn’t want you judging me.”
“Me, judge you? Glory, Tadie, you’re a piece of work, you know that?”
Tadie pushed her chair away from the table and crossed her arms over her stomach.
“How come you never told me in all these years?” Hannah’s eyes reflected hurt. “I didn’t think we had secrets.”
“You don’t know how many times I wanted to say something, especially in college when I was dating Brice. He started pushing me once he gave me that ring. But I couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t tell me or couldn’t have sex with him?”
“Both. Either.”
Hannah squinted, making Tadie feel like some strange specimen Hannah had never seen before. “Do you mean to tell me, Sara Longworth, that you’ve never done it with anyone?”
Tadie took a long, deep breath, waited, then eased it out. Finally, she nodded.
“Never ever?”
Tadie shook her head.
“Lord, have mercy. Don’t you want to?”
A snort was all she could manage.
“What am I saying? Of course you do. You’re not gay. I would have known if you were.” Hannah squinted again and peered at her. “I would, wouldn’t I?”
Another snort.
“Okay, sorry.” Straightening in her chair, Hannah picked up the discarded fork and took another bite. “Well, so what’s the plan? You waitin’ for God to drop someone through your roof?” She narrowed her eyes. “Is this a sin thing? A ring on your finger before anything else? ’Cause if it is, girl, you better get busy. Wait much longer, and anybody’s gonna look good.”
It may have grown into a marriage-or-nothing thing with her, but Tadie couldn’t be sure it always had been. “I just haven’t met anyone, not the right anyone. I mean, I could have done it with Alex or Brice or a bunch of others, but I didn’t want to be a notch on their belt, you know?”
“Who would?” Hannah pointed to the rice container. “Any more of that left?”
Tadie slid the food in front of Hannah. “I came here thinking maybe there would be more opportunity.”
“To meet Mr. Right?”
“That was part of it, I guess. Mostly to see if I’m single because I live in Beaufort, or because I’m me. Maybe I’m not supposed to be married. I thought I was happy the way things were.”
“Until that man came along.”
“It was mostly when Alex came back to town and got me thinking.”
“Got you going, did he?” Hannah waved with her fork again, but at least it was empty this time. “It was probably that man too. If nothing else, Jilly made you want something else.”
“She did.”
Shaking her head in disgust, Hannah said, “You need to get a job. Not just your studio and the shop. Find something that would put you in contact with eligible men.”
“Good thought. I can just go out and start competing with the twenty-somethings straight out of college.” Tadie extended both hands, palms up. Glancing at the imaginary scale in her right palm, she said, “Me,” and at one in her left, “a twenty-two-year-old.”
“I see what you mean. What about the Internet—one of those matchmaking sites? It worked for Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan.”
Tadie hurumphed. “Anything can happen in the movies, which is why we like them.” She stood and began stacking dishes. “I moved up here looking for answers.”
“And?”
&
nbsp; The sound came out as a sort of half-laugh, harsh even to her ears. “What do you think?”
Hannah just waited.
“Obviously, I’m still alone, aren’t I?”
Hannah used a slice of naan to clean her plate. “Too bad we don’t have an Indian restaurant in Beaufort. I like this stuff.” She tore off another piece and examined it. “Maybe I can get the recipe. How hard can it be to make flat bread?”
Tadie turned on the water, rinsed her plate, and added it to the dishwasher. “I’m glad I told you, but the way I see it, I’m either meant to die a virgin or the perfect man will come waltzing into our shop one day, offering me a ring and forever. Changing places didn’t change me at all.”
“So, I’d better get busy.”
“Hah! You haven’t been able to pull anyone out of the hat in the last sixteen years. Where do you think you’ll find him now?”
“I don’t know. But you’ve given me new incentive.”
“How?”
“Honey, no best friend of mine is going to die without at least a taste of loving.”
“You find a man I want to marry, and we’ll see about it. I decided shortly after I broke up with Brice that, as curious as I was, and as much as my body sometimes had a mind of its own, I was not going to take up with some guy just to relieve an itch. If I didn’t let myself go with Alex—”
“And why didn’t you? I thought you loved him.”
“Sure, I loved him. But I wasn’t convinced he loved me. It turns out I was right.”
“And, obviously, you didn’t love Brice.”
“Nope. And so far, I haven’t found any man I trust enough or love enough to give away something I’ve held on to this long. It’s marriage or nothing.”
“In other words, it’s got to be great or not at all.”
“Exactly.”
“Boy, our mamas would have been proud of you. And you ought to tell Father Ames. It would bolster his faith in us.”
“Hannah!”
“Well, how many kids listen to him anymore? He might like to know the message got through to one of our generation, at least.”
“I’m pretty sure now it was my self-image that got in the way.”
“Whatever.” Hannah flipped her hand in dismissal. “Who’s to say what was behind it?” With one last bite, Hannah picked up her plate and handed it to Tadie. “Is this Will fellow definitely out of the running?”
“He was never in it.”
“But that blush?”
“Okay, so I had fantasies while he was staying at the house. But he’s still in love with his dead wife. He wrote because he couldn’t tell Jilly what a jerk he was to me.”
“Fantasies, eh?”
Tadie threw up her hands. “I knew you’d pick up on that. With everything else I’ve said, that’s all you can remember?”
Hannah scooted her chair closer to the table and rested her chin in her palms. “Tell me. I want to know what they were. All the juicy details.”
Tadie knew that look from days when they’d sat cross-legged, ready to confide their deepest, darkest longings. “Hannah, you may be my best friend, but I am not going to tell you about thoughts I wish I’d never had.”
“You’re making me curious to know him better. I’ve decided you may be misjudging the situation. It’s obvious he’s no good at communicating, which is probably why I thought him a prick.” A Cheshire-cat smile spread as Hannah looked at her, making Tadie nervous. “Maybe you ought to write back.”
“I don’t think so. If he wants to make up, he can try again.”
“It may have taken every ounce of ability he had to get that out,” Hannah said, pointing at the folded sheets. “So now he’ll give up. What’s his job?”
“Mechanical engineer.”
Hannah slapped her forehead. “Of course. That explains it. Engineers are notoriously bad at feelings.”
“That’s his problem,” Tadie said.
“Just don’t let it be yours too. Anyway, can I at least tell Matt what a liar Alex is?”
“Hannah Morgan, if you so much as breathe that to anyone, including Matt, I’ll never speak to you again.”
“Okay, fine,” Hannah said before trying to cajole her with an innocent look. “You sure? Not even Matt? It would be fun to take the wind out of Alex’s sails.”
Tadie pulled a catalog from the heap of mail and threw it in the direction of Hannah’s face. Her friend ducked, but it was a long time before the twinkle finally left her eyes and she settled on Tadie’s couch to channel surf.
* * * * *
Tadie woke to a snore. For a moment, she had no idea who slept on the other side of the queen-sized mattress. Her first-ever shared bed, and there was Hannah, snoring slightly, but with a rattle.
The bedside clock clicked over to three thirty-two. As she continued to watch, the two flipped to a three. She did not want to wait for the green four to stare at her. Closing her eyes, she reminded her body it was supposed to be sleeping.
Her eyelids popped open.
Will’s letter sat a whole room away, yet it took up all her brain space. Rolling over onto her back, trying not to disturb Hannah, she replayed every word, especially that bit about letting his feelings cloud his judgment. What feelings did he mean? Good? Bad? Indifferent?
She slipped out to the kitchen and drank a glass of water without even a glance at the stack of mail. Then she tiptoed to the bathroom. Which, of course, flashed her back to a memory of Jilly at her house.
She’d perched on the toilet seat as the child played in the big tub. Slithering around in the bubbles, Jilly had talked about sailing to the Bahamas with her daddy, how big the waves had been on the Gulf Stream, and how their crew, a man her daddy knew from a long time ago, got sick and threw up, and she didn’t. Wasn’t that something? A grown man who sailed all the time.
Jilly had made Tadie imagine the sailing and the fun when they’d finally reached the islands—the funny accents, all the boats, the food she’d learned to like, riding on the back of a motor scooter hanging onto her daddy. On the night before the disaster, Tadie had let herself—just for a moment—dream of being with Will. As his wife.
Not sleeping in a bed with Hannah, but with him.
She covered her face with her hands. How could she have thought such nonsense only hours before he crashed her dreams with his rejection?
We don’t want you.
So reminiscent of Alex’s betrayal. I’m marrying someone else.
Now Will wrote saying they’d like to see her again, that maybe he’d been wrong.
Why couldn’t she meet a man who didn’t use words like maybe? Who said instead, I want you.
No, that wasn’t right. Heaven only knew, there were plenty of someones with brains in their pants who’d said just that. Who’d tried to make her believe they meant it.
No. He would have to be the right someone. But it was possible—probable—he didn’t exist. And for some reason, she, Sara Longworth, was doomed to remain as she was. Untouched.
The thought brought an awareness to her body, a longing for something she’d never known. To feel a man’s fingers trail down her cheek and slide across her jaw, seeking more, taking more—because he was hers and she was his.
What would it feel like to belong to someone and have him belong to her?
Tadie rubbed her palms across her eyes. She wouldn’t weep. She wouldn’t.
Not for him, the him who wasn’t.
Did they still refer to unmarried women of a certain age as old maids any place but Beaufort? She loved the French words: Les dames d’un certain âge.
Here in New York, single women of means were merely independent. One could be an independent woman for her entire life, surrounded by fascinating people who never once felt pity for her. A woman of means must certainly have chosen to remain single. She must enjoy her solo state.
Not in Beaufort. There, a woman might make it to thirty—or even to thirty-five these days—before people took pity on
her. But after that, she was doomed to spinsterhood. The spinster aunt of somebody. Aunt Tadie, they’d call her, if she could find anyone to do the honors.
Hannah had no offspring, and Bucky hadn’t married before he died. Unless he’d fathered someone as yet unknown to her, there would be no help from that quarter. Her other friends from school had more family than they knew what to do with and certainly didn’t need another member, honorary or not. Her only hope was Rita.
Those thoughts tumbled unhappily around in her foggy brain until just past four o’clock. She climbed back under the covers and found her eyes unwilling to close. Once more she begged for help as she watched the bright green numerals click over to four thirty-eight.
Peace, please. That’s all she wanted. Peace.
Hannah woke her at eight, pulling back the curtains to reveal a dismal sky. “What are we going to do today?”
Tadie yanked the pillow over her head and groaned.
Chapter Thirty
Will had hoped for a reply when he mailed his letter. At least something—Don’t ever write again, or better yet, I forgive you, when can you come?
But no answer had arrived at Liz’s house or at the post office box after they left Georgetown. He tried to shrug it off as he and Jilly settled into winter quarters in Baltimore. His old boss had sent some consulting work his way, so he was back at the computer on his CAD program. The Internet was a marvelous tool, allowing him to work from the boat and be with Jilly.
His daughter continued to amaze him. He’d set up her work station near his, and when he turned on the computer, she pulled out her school books. She usually finished before he did, which was not surprising, considering how many of her projects required teacher/parent input. At least three afternoons a week, they took time to do something special together. Part of her schooling—the part he believed made homeschooling superior—involved individualized research, even for grade-schoolers. For science, they had the National Aquarium and the Maryland Science Center right in the Inner Harbor. A MARC train and subway ride took them to the Smithsonian in Washington for her studies of American and natural history, art, and science. Once or twice, he considered moving the boat to a DC marina, but they’d have a long trip down the Bay, then another long trip up the Potomac, plus having to deal with the Wilson Bridge clearance. No, they were better off where they were. Besides, Jilly enjoyed the train ride. They were close to BWI and flights anywhere, and the Inner Harbor had a lot to offer. Also, when he needed to fly to jobs, he could always take Jilly over to Liz’s place on the Eastern Shore.
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. Page 25