Riley turned quickly as if she knew who had Laine’s eye. A huge smile spread across the woman’s face when she saw them looking at her. Then she waved. Riley gave a quick nod and turned back to Laine.
“You know her.”
“Yes, Winnie Harris. She’s a guest. I’ve been asked to keep an eye on her for the week.”
Laine sensed her uneasiness. “Really? Am I keeping you from her?”
Riley shook her head. “No, no. She’s here on vacation. Her family just asked me to make sure she enjoys herself.”
Laine nodded over Riley’s shoulder again. “What about her? The stunning, young African American.”
Riley didn’t turn. Evidently she knew her too. The young woman paid them no attention. Her elbow rested on the table, her head in her palm, a menu lying in front of her. “Yes, she’s another one I’ve been asked to take care of this week. Her family is concerned about her too.” Riley ran her hands down the side of her place mat. “Truth be told, I am as well.”
Laine saw Riley’s countenance shift. “Is she in trouble?”
Riley shook her head as if she had said too much. “Oh no. I doubt it’s anything like that. Just a concerned mother.”
“Invite them to eat with us.”
Riley let out a slight chuckle, then picked up her napkin and laid it in her lap. “Trust me, I don’t think you would want that. Mrs. Harris over there is apparently a big fan of yours, and I’m not sure that you would have the opportunity to eat.”
“You’d be surprised. Once you get people talking about themselves, you don’t really have to do much talking. Plus, some of my best character ideas come from real people and real stories.” Laine picked up the drink menu and studied it. She raised her green eyes above the top of her menu and locked them on Riley. “Invite them.”
Riley fidgeted in her seat. “You’re sure?”
“Invite them.” She made it clear that this time it wasn’t a suggestion. Laine needed an evening with strangers. She needed enough people to carry on conversations so she wouldn’t have to. And one of them seemed like the ideal candidate.
Riley scooted her chair back and headed to Tamyra first, probably because she would be the harder one to lure. After what seemed like much coaxing, Riley and Tamyra walked over to Winnie’s table. Winnie had her butt half out of her seat before they even got to her.
Winnie eagerly pulled at the leather chair on the other side of Laine and plopped down, bouncing slightly as she did. Riley tried to hide her snicker. Laine could tell Riley didn’t think she knew what she had gotten herself into. What little Miss Riley didn’t know was that Laine Fulton was a master study in people. And she had already discerned she really didn’t like Riley Sinclair.
* * *
Riley couldn’t understand Laine wanting to invite strangers to have dinner with her. But she had never really understood Californians. They wore black all the time or shades thereof. Apparently thought earthquakes and hurricanes were part of daily life. And thought anyone who had an accent different from their own held a slightly lower IQ. At least that’s what Laine’s tone seemed to imply.
“Oh my, what a delightful treat. I am having dinner with Laine Fulton,” Winnie said, leaning toward Laine and patting her hand as if Laine might not even know who she was. “The Laine Fulton.”
The waiter walked over, apparently aware that the dynamics of his table had just changed. “Hello, ladies.”
“We’ve some additions,” Riley said. “You might want to let the other waiters know we pulled from two tables over there.” She knew what it felt like to have guests change their minds on you.
“That’s no problem. Can I get you ladies something to drink?”
Everyone paused and looked at Laine as if she should begin. She took the cue. “How about watermelon martinis for the table,” she said, setting the menu down.
Winnie reached over and placed her hand atop Laine’s again. Riley watched Laine’s face tighten. Apparently conversation she could do; personal contact, not so much. She waited for her to pick up Winnie’s hand and set it back by her plate. “Oh, honey. I can’t. I’m Baptist. I always talk about drinking but haven’t had a drop in my life.” She looked up at the waiter. “Do you have sweet tea by any chance, darlin’?”
“No, ma’am. We only have unsweetened tea.”
“You don’t get any more Southern than this unless you want to go to Cuba. You’d think sweet tea would be everywhere,” she said, pulling her hand back to her side of the table. Riley watched the muscles in Laine’s face relax. “I’ll have unsweetened. That’s fine. Sugar is sugar, right, ladies?” she said, picking up a packet from the sugar holder and waving it slightly.
Tamyra spoke next. “I’ll just stick with Perrier, thank you.”
“And thank you for the offer, Laine. Honestly,” Riley said. “But I think I’ll just have ice water, if you wouldn’t mind, Derrick.”
Derrick nodded his head and turned toward Laine.
“Like I said, Derrick. I’ll have a watermelon martini.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be right back with your drinks, ladies.”
“Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about spending the evening with a bunch of lushes,” Laine said. The ladies laughed in unison. “So you’ve never had a drink in your life, Winnie?”
Winnie looked at Laine. “No, sugar. Not in all of my years. I’ve thought about becoming a sop a time or two, threatened my husband with it for most of my marriage.” She laughed softly. Riley watched her face. It shifted as if she was remembering. She shook her head slightly and her voice found its life again. “But no. It was against my religion for years. Now I just don’t do it because I’m trying to keep my streak going.”
Laine laughed. “Well, good for you, Mrs. Harris.”
Riley leaned back in her chair, almost grateful that she had been removed from being Laine’s sole conversationalist.
“My friends call me Winnie. And I would love to tell my friends that Laine Fulton is now among them if I could. So please call me Winnie.”
“Winnie it is.”
Derrick returned with their drinks, and Laine ordered without asking. “We’d like one of each, please.”
Derrick’s head popped back. “Do you mean of the main courses?”
“No, I mean we’d like one of each appetizer. Then give us a moment to loosen our belts. Then we’d like one of each of the main courses and a sampling of the sides. And when we’re about to bust, we’d like you to bring us one of each of the desserts.”
Riley could tell by Derrick’s expression he wished he were having dinner with them. He snapped his order book shut and raised both eyebrows. “One of each it is.” He retrieved the menus and went off to do something Riley guessed he had never done: order every item on the menu for one table.
Winnie laughed like a giddy schoolgirl. “I’ve always wanted to do that since I saw that movie Last Holiday. Only I didn’t want to have to be on death’s door to finally have the chutzpah to do it.”
“I’m glad I could make a dream come true and that you’re not dying, so you can actually enjoy it.”
“Plus, all you girls need to put some meat on your bones. I’ll enjoy just watching each of you eat.” Winnie raised her eyebrow at Riley but then quickly turned her attention back to Laine. “Have you ever been to Memphis, Laine? Best barbecue you’d ever eat. And Graceland.” She reached over and slapped Laine’s arm. “That’s what you should do. You should write something about Elvis. Then come on down to Nashville and write about the Grand Ole Opry, drink some sweet tea, go to the Loveless Café to eat biscuits like your mama makes.”
Riley watched Laine raise her eyebrows.
“Your mama doesn’t cook biscuits, baby?”
Laine chuckled softly.
“Baby girl, come down to Nashville and let old Winnie introduce you to living. Where are you from?”
“California.”
“Well, California is like another country. Come spend some time with
me and you will be wearing rhinestones and singing ‘Rocky Top.’”
Riley saw the shift in Laine. It was evident she didn’t want to be the one answering questions. “What brought you here, Winnie? to Paradise Island?” Laine asked.
Winnie stirred sugar into her tea. “My children were bound and determined I needed to get away. My husband, Sam, died three years ago. He was sick the year before that. And I haven’t felt like traveling. They felt like it was time.” Her voice softened.
Riley spoke. “Well, we’re glad you’re here, Winnie. Tell Laine what you do.”
Winnie sipped her tea and crinkled her nose. “Just can’t make it happen this way.”
“Excuse me?” Laine said.
“The tea. You just can’t turn unsweet tea into sweet tea. I don’t care what they say.” She set her glass back down. “I’m a high school principal. I had retired when I was sixty-five. Then the school board called me two years ago and asked me to come out of retirement. I had been home a year without Sam and I needed to get out. And the students needed me.”
“I bet you’re great at it,” Riley assessed.
“You know, it’s my gift. I’ve learned through the years what I can and can’t do, and I can motivate people to see their potential. When I came in, it was the lowest-performing high school in the state. The No Child Left Behind program gave us two years to turn it around. When I arrived, they had a 67 percent dropout rate.”
Derrick and a couple waiters began to lay down the appetizers in front of them. But Laine wanted more of Winnie’s story. “What have you learned in the last two years?”
Winnie removed her eyes from the sweet potatoes they set in front of her. “I learned my babies were hungry. And a baby can’t learn when he’s hungry. So we make sure every child has breakfast, and then we fill each classroom with snacks. We feed their bodies so we can feed their brains. Last year our graduation rate was 78 percent.”
Riley couldn’t hide her shock. “You did that in two years?”
“In two years,” she said as she scooped out some sweet potatoes and put them on her plate.
Each woman began to sample a little bit of everything. Amid oohs and aahs as they tasted the various delicacies, they shared their impressions of the resort and discussed the weather—specifically whether the tropical depression would disrupt their week.
Finally Laine turned her attention to Tamyra. “So, Tamyra, right?”
Riley watched as Tamyra lifted her glazed eyes to meet Laine’s. A softness fell across Laine’s face when she took Tamyra in. “Tell us about you.”
Tamyra reached up and ran her fingers down the side of her glass. They pushed at the condensation until it made a clear puddle on the tablecloth below. “Not a lot to tell, honestly.”
“Don’t let her fool you,” Winnie piped in. “This young woman is a beauty queen.”
Tamyra turned her expressionless face to Winnie, then back to Laine. “I give up my title in two weeks.”
Laine took a drink of her martini. “Happy?”
“Ambivalent.”
“Know what you’re going to do when it’s over?”
Riley watched it all intently. Laine’s questions came with the fluidity of a friend at a standing weekly dinner.
“Not sure what I’m going to do tomorrow, honestly.” Tamyra shifted in her seat as Derrick and another waiter began to remove the emptied appetizer plates from the table.
“What would you like to do?” Laine pressed. Riley wasn’t sure how far she’d get.
“Two months ago I could have told you,” Tamyra said, putting her fork down by her plate and looking straight at Laine. “But six weeks ago, I sold everything I had, retreated to a friend’s little bungalow in Cozumel and spent time reflecting on my life and my future. Then they moved back in and I wasn’t ready to go home. A friend told me about the Atlantis a while back, so I decided to give myself one more week away from home, and this is where I decided to spend it. Next Saturday I’ll go back home. And that is absolutely all I know today.”
Riley moved her elbows from the table while they finished clearing the dishes to ready them for the main course. “You sold everything you had?”
“Everything but what I could fit into a rental car, because I sold my car, too.”
Now Riley had questions of her own. “How does a young woman like you make a decision like that?”
“One day can change everything.”
Winnie reached over and patted her hand. Riley could all but see her mothering rise to the surface. “Yes, it can. And it can all turn around in a day too.”
Laine absently moved her notebook farther from her plate.
Winnie didn’t miss it. “What do you write in there?”
Laine turned toward Winnie, removing her gaze from Tamyra. “In here?” She patted her notebook.
“Yeah.” Winnie scooted up as if she were about to get something worth delivering to the National Enquirer.
“I write the details of what I see, the texture of the food, the ambience of the lighting, the feel of the room. My readers want to think they’re here. So I bring them here with my words. That’s why we’re trying everything. I’m not sure what my characters may want to eat.”
“You do that! I just got through reading chapter after chapter and you so had me right there, as if I could step out and touch the man-made shore of Dubai.”
Laine nodded. “Well, thank you, Winnie.”
“So you just let the story determine itself?” Riley asked.
She glanced at Riley. “I let the story take me wherever it wants to go.”
Winnie wrinkled her nose. “So you don’t have to know how it ends for your publisher to be willing to say he’ll publish it?”
The chuckle came out as a puff. “I’ve sold thirty million books, Miss Winnie. I don’t even have to tell my publisher what my story is about. As long as he knows I’m somewhere researching for a new book, he’s happy.”
Winnie laughed. “Of course he is.”
Derrick and two other servers laid the main courses on the table. But there wasn’t enough room, so they agreed to serve them in two rounds. Winnie looked at the filet in front of her. “I was craving beef.”
The main courses were half-eaten when Riley finally leaned back in her chair again. She was certain her stomach had never been so full. She was also keenly aware that Laine had barely had to talk. Winnie had carried most of the conversation talking about Laine’s books, giving Laine ample time to down another martini.
Near the end of the meal, Winnie put her fork down and looked at Tamyra. “You don’t eat meat?”
“I’m a vegan.”
“You’re a what?” Winnie leaned across the table, her blue eyes wide. “Vegetarian, I know. Vegan, I’m clueless. I teach kids who would be grateful for a pack of peanut butter and cheese crackers, and I come from a family who thinks fried foods are a food group. So help me out with vegan.”
“We try not to consume animal products of any kind.” Her expression didn’t encourage further dialogue.
Winnie’s furrowed her brow. “Does that include milk?”
“I try to stay away from dairy whenever I can. But sometimes it sneaks in there. I just try to eat food in its most natural form.”
Winnie raised her denim-clad arm and pushed at the hidden hanging flesh underneath. “Probably why you look like that and I look like this.”
For the first time that evening, Tamyra laughed.
Derrick came and served the desserts, which kept mouths full so that Winnie’s groans of delight were about all that was heard. Until Laine had finished and decided to inquire of Riley next.
“And what about you, O gracious hostess.” Laine’s words came out slightly sarcastic. “Where did you get the name Riley?”
Riley exhaled slowly, grateful that was the question she asked. “I got it from our mayor.”
Winnie’s brow furrowed.
“Joe Riley. He’s the mayor of Charleston and one of the longest
-running mayors in the nation. And he is one of my daddy’s good friends.”
Riley caught Laine’s raised eyebrows when she said the word daddy. She decided that was enough information.
“So your ‘daddy’ and the mayor go way back.”
Apparently Laine wasn’t going to let that be enough. “They graduated from The Citadel together in ’64. Then they both went to law school at the University of South Carolina. One became mayor; the other is one of the longest-serving senators in South Carolina. Daddy thought . . .” Riley paused for a minute. She had never been self-conscious about calling her father Daddy until right now. “Well, he thought I would be a boy. I wasn’t, but he kept Riley anyway.”
“That is a wonderful story of friendship,” Winnie offered. “My daddy named me too.”
Riley smiled, grateful someone else had a daddy. Must be a Southern thing. “He did?”
“Yeah, Mary Poppins came out in 1934, three years before I was born, and one of the main characters was Winifred Banks. My mother always bought my brother and sister a book a week, and one night when my dad was reading to them, he came across old Winifred. And that was that,” she said, clapping her hands together, causing her rhinestones to catch the light and dance reflections across the table.
Derrick interrupted the stories with the bill and began to clear away the dessert dishes, his smile never leaving his face. The tip would be huge and he was already celebrating. Riley reached down and tugged at the waist of her jeans, hoping to give herself more room to breathe. Laine had taken notes throughout the entire dinner. Riley wasn’t sure if they consisted of the conversation going on around her or the small bite of each item she had sampled. She hadn’t missed one. Laine charged the bill to her room.
Riley spoke first. “Thank you for an amazing dinner.”
“Yes, it was great. Thank you,” Tamyra said.
“Sister needs a wheelbarrow,” Winnie announced. “Yes, my big, broad behind needs to be wheeled right up to my room. The way I’m going to have to waddle out of here, these people are going to think I’m wasted.”
Hurricanes in Paradise Page 6