Secrets in the Lowcountry--The River

by Janet Cooper

  “Mrs. Harris, why don’t you go with Dr. Harris? I’ll take care of your daughter,” Jeff said in a quiet, gentle voice.

  “Yes, Julia Ann,” her father said, having arrived a second later. Martin managed to ply his estranged wife’s hand off Taylor. He placed his arm around Julia Ann’s shoulders. “Why don’t you come with me? Jeff will take care of Taylor.”

  Her mother regarded one then the other. Tears flowed down her face, digging crevices in her heavy makeup. “My baby needs me.” She edged toward Taylor.

  Jeff quietly and quickly blocked her path, smiling kindly as he did so. “Mrs. Harris, I promise I’ll take good care of her. She’s been my best friend since pre-school. ” His patient, quiet manner appeared to work, for Julia Ann no longer struggled in Martin’s arms.

  “If you’re sure…” Her gaze gave the impression of one slightly disconnected as she shifted her attention from her husband to Jeff.

  “Julia Ann, Jeff and Taylor have been friends since childhood. You know that,” Martin reiterated Jeff’s words. “Our daughter’s in good hands.” Leading her mother away, her father continued talking and assuring.

  “If you need me, darling …” Julia Ann said over her shoulder, before being taken off toward the front of the house.

  “Need you? I needed you for years, but you were never there,” Taylor murmured as her mother shuffled away. She glanced at Jeff, grateful to have him to lean on at least emotionally if not physically. “Why does her behavior still hurt?” She eyed her mother’s retreating figure. “Emotionally that woman can tear me apart and leave only pieces.” Taylor shook her head in disbelief. “Even now, as a grown woman, she still has that affect on me.”

  Jeff placed his hand behind her back and eased her to the back door and into the house. Once inside, he turned her toward him. “Taylor, she loves you, but she can’t always control herself.” Her best friend gently took her in his arms and held her loosely as if trying not to crush her wedding dress.

  Taylor didn’t feel up to arguing with him. As long as she could remember, Jeff had been there for her. When she scrambled up a tree and fell out, he helped clean her up so her mother, who had forbidden her to climb, wouldn’t notice the dirt and skinned knees and elbows. He understood her and never lectured to her. He’d often been the only one to listen each time her world dissolved, usually because of something her mother had done or a scene her mother had caused. For the moment, she absorbed his support and cried for herself, for her mother and for Rod.

  “Rod.” Fear and worry etched the word. “Do you think he abandoned me at the altar? Am I a forsaken bride?”

  She heard Jeff’s muffled laugh, but not one full of joy.

  “Never believe that. He sought this wedding. Even in high school, he bragged that he would marry the prettiest, smartest, socially prominent friendliest girl in the class.”

  “Why didn’t he choose Eve Randolph, she fits the bill more than I do.” Jealously strengthened her voice.

  “The only time he dated her was when he thought you and I might start going out.”

  “Truly?”

  “Truly.” He nodded. “We’ll find him Tiny.”

  Hearing the name that only Jeff had ever called her gave Taylor a sense of comfort. He had started calling her that in middle school when she grew as tall as he was. She blinked her eyes and he offered her a tissue. With a sniff, she blew her nose and wiped the tears. How like him to have just what she required, a tissue. She took a deep breath trying to stifle the tears that continued to fall. “Where can he be?”

  “Rod probably ran out of gas and couldn’t call because he’s in a dead zone.”

  She eased out of his arms. “He’s sailed and cruised on that river all his life, but running out of gas is possible.” Taylor related the story she’d told her dad.

  “And getting married could have caused him to forget to check the gas or the extra gas can,” Jeff replied, logically.

  “He told his best man, Tim, that he wanted to fish one more time as a single guy.” She raised her head. “Are you sure you don’t think he ran away from the wedding?” she asked incredulously, as she rocked back on her heels.

  Jeff held her at arm’s length. “No, for all the reasons I’ve given you. A guy doesn’t get married every day. Rod loved to fish. He once told me his happiest times happen when he had a fly rod in his hand.”

  Taylor’s eyes open wide, “He …?”

  “Taylor, this was long before the two of you were an item.”

  She nodded, but couldn’t chase the fear from her heart as easily as from her mind.

  “Sometimes situations make us forget our obligations.” Jeff dabbed her damp cheek with another one of his tissues. “Weddings, especially ones’ own, tend to make us overlook other things, such as rings, tide tables, gas, etc. Not that I’m an authority on getting married, but I have participated in several. One of my friends drank too much the night before and thought he could fly.” Stopping, he decided this story won’t help.

  She sniffled once more. “You’re probably right.” Trying to lighten the dark mood that had settled deep in her bones, she said, “If you are, I hope all the mosquitoes in the Lowcountry feast on him.” Vengeance stroked her remark.

  “Ouch! What a terrible fate. Where’s your charity?”

  “Right now, non-existing. He can be inconsiderate, but how could he do this to me and all our friends?” She moved away from Jeff and immediately felt alone.

  Jeff shrugged. “He’ll be okay.”

  Aunt Bertha saddled up to them looking exactly as she had prior to playing the piano. Her white hair had been heavily sprayed and even the humidity of the Lowcountry couldn’t wilt the invisible hair net. “Taylor, I am sure God will take care of Rodney. Don’t worry.” She offered her hand to her niece. “Let’s go to your room and freshen your makeup. You want to look beautiful when your bridegroom arrives.”

  Taylor looked down at the short, round, loveable woman. When her husband was killed in the Korean War, she’d moved into a small house on their plantation. Great-aunt Bertha had tried to fill the role of a grandmother ever since Taylor’s mom had left home twenty years before. Her aunt’s interruption reminded Taylor of her other obligations. She studied her bridesmaids who had congregated in the dining room. They looked confused and unsure of what to do or say to help. Walking toward them, and trying to put a hopeful spin on a very difficult situation, she said, “I guess we change and wait for the missing groom to appear.”

  Several looked as if they wanted to stop and say something, but she shook her head unable to talk. Understanding her body language, they either kissed her cheek or squeezed her hand as they headed for the steps and their rooms upstairs. She waited until they’d gone before turning back. “Thanks again, Jeff.” Taylor reached up and kissed his cheek. “You’ve always been here for me. I truly value our friendship.” She twisted around with the long train dragging behind her as she started up the steps.

  “When we get to your room and you’ve taken off your gown, I want you to lie down,” her aunt said, picking up the long train to help carry it upstairs.

  Taylor stopped at the landing and regarded her aunt. “As soon as I can get this dress off, I’m going to start looking for Rod.”

  Aunt Bertha dropped the train in shock. “My dear, you should lie down …”

  “Dear Aunt, have you ever known me to sit back and wait? Staying upstairs in my room would drive me crazy. I have to help. All I want to do now is change my clothes and start searching.” With that, she let go of the railing, grabbed two handfuls of the heavy, silk overskirt and charged up the stairs.

  “What about your bridesmaids? Shouldn’t you stay with them?” Aunt Bertha called after Taylor, her words holding a slight scold.

  Without staying her departure or glimpsing behind, Taylor replied, “Please, dearest Aunt, take care of them for me. You entertain far better than I do.”

  “Of course, dear one,” she replied, her voice still showed her
shock. “If that’s what you desire.” The scold showed in her intonation and in each footstep. Her normally soft, almost gliding step was replaced by a heavy trod.

  Aunt Bertha did not agree, but the darling woman would never directly challenge Taylor’s decision, and for that her niece was extremely grateful. Taylor recognized that her aunt believed her obligation was to play hostess for her friends. Her bridesmaids would realize, even if her great-aunt didn’t, that Taylor needed activity to keep her sanity.

  * ~ *

  Jeff stayed rooted at the bottom of the steps watching Taylor mount the stairs. I’m glad that the wedding has been postponed. If I could stop them from ever being married, I would. Although he’s one of my oldest friends, or should I say was a friend, he’s not good enough for her. He placed his hand on the carved-wooden pineapple, closed his eyes, and started to remember the good times he and Taylor had had together.

  Jeff,” Martin Harris called as he entered the hall from the front door.

  He reluctantly released the memories he’d just formed and faced the doctor. “Yes, Sir. What can I do?”

  “Take care of my little girl,” her father intoned with worried concern. “You’ve always been like a brother to her.”

  That was not the role I wanted, he longed to say, instead he replied, “She has many friends and her bridesmaids certainly will help.”

  Martin shook his head. “You two grew up in each other’s pocket. If she had a problem that she couldn’t or wouldn’t share with me, you helped. Better than anyone, even better than Rod. Do whatever is required to ease her grief.” He patted Jeff on the shoulder. “You’ll find the right words and do what’s vital to help her.”

  Jeff swallowed. Dr. Harris had no idea what he asked. Jeff’s love for Taylor remained as strong as ever. In his heart, although he would never express the thought, he almost wished Rod had skipped the marriage noose. He drove the idea aside, for the agony etched on Martin’s face tipped the scale. Jeff nodded. Remembering Taylor’s mom, he asked, deciding this might be a way to help without being so close to Taylor, “What about Mrs. Harris? Will she be all right? I’d be glad to help.”

  “Thanks anyway. I’ve arranged for Mary to take my estranged wife back to her cottage in town and stay overnight with her. She’ll only upset Taylor if she stays here.” Martin’s shoulders rounded as if an invisible yoke had been placed on them. “I only wanted both of my girls to be happy,” he said as if unable to believe the earlier scene.

  For the first time, Jeff saw how tragedy could change a person in a very short time. Pulling himself back to the conversation, he recalled Dr. Harris’s last comment, Taylor’s relationship with her mother. Only the Arctic ice cap was warmer than the animosity the daughter bore toward her mother. No time to dwell on that problem now. Jeff concentrated on the present. “Where ever you need me, just plug me in.”

  Martin nodded. “While I’m waiting for the sheriff to arrive, I’ll get a nautical map of the region and start dividing the area. We’ve plenty of volunteers and boats, and most of the men and women are familiar with these waters. We’ll find him.” He paused for a moment as if gathering strength. “When we do, I may push him back into the Broad for all the problems he’s caused.” Anger stamped each word and appeared to help Martin regain his core strength.

  * ~ *

  Arriving at Julia Ann’s well-maintained, white Lowcountry, style cottage in Beaufort, Mary Campbell said with concern, “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay overnight with you?”

  “I’d be better if Taylor and Martin had permitted me to stay with them instead of pushing me out,” Julia Ann said bitterly, as she started to open the car door. Bending down to retrieve her evening bag, she added, “My daughter and my husband require my help. I am her mother and Martin and I still love one another.” Julia Ann placed her feet on the driveway, and then stood up. Before moving away, she bent down and stared at Mary. Anger ruled her face. “I’m sober and have been for almost six months. Why don’t they accept that?” She accented each word; her fury scalding.

  Mary, who had known Julia Ann for most of their adult lives and had seen the sorrow and heartache that she’d caused the family, drew back from the verbal assault. She tightened her hands into fists, fought back the sharp retort she craved to unleash, and swallowed hard. As gently as possible, Mary replied, “Julia Ann, you haven’t always been in control …”

  “Don’t start.” The other woman lashed back, her dark eyes almost devoid of color. “I made my mistakes; but, I attend AA regularly and I’m not drinking. They know that.” Julia Ann slammed the car door and began walking to her home.

  Quickly getting out of her car, Mary followed her friend to the house. “Martin does, and he’s very proud of you. Taylor is still getting use to the idea.”

  Wheeling around, she gave Mary a harsh look. “I’m perfectly capable of unlocking my door. I certainly don’t need a nursemaid to look after me.” Her face tightened. In the glow of the late afternoon light, her eyes shone with hatred. “You’d better get back. I’m sure Martin would be lost without you.” Her tone rang out bitter and scathing.

  Mary froze at the hateful words. Yes, she cared for Martin and Taylor, but she would never destroy a marriage. “Julia Ann, please …” She held out her hands almost in supplication.

  “Don’t deny your feelings, Mary Campbell,” Julia Ann lashed out. “You love him and always have, but I’m still married to him. He may call me his ex, but he’s never divorced me. And Taylor’s mine too. No one can take a child away from her mother,” she taunted in an angry, yet triumphal way. Swishing her long skirt, she twirled and marched to the front door of her home.

  Mary sighed as she walked toward her SUV. “Why Martin stays married to that woman after not living with her for twenty years, I’ll never know,” she mumbled as she climbed in the car and started the engine.

  Julia Ann stared at the SUV and watched Mary leave. You’ll never get him. I won’t ask him for a divorce and he’s too much of a gentleman to ask me. He’s mine, always has been and always will be. As she started to put her key in the lock, she stopped and glanced at her garage. Why should I let Mary comfort my husband and only child? That’s what a wife does, not some hired help. Julia Ann reversed her steps and headed for her car.

  Chapter Two

  “We’ve notified the people you suggested,” Tim said, in a much stronger and more confident tone than he’d used earlier. “The police told us that they will contact the Harmony Fire District, the state Department of Natural Resources, Angel One from the Coast Guard, and the Harmony Water Search and Rescue. We mentioned that you were organizing boats from here to go out.”

  “Good job, Tim and ladies.” Grabbing the orange Clemson baseball cap that he’d worn almost forever from the pocket of his jeans, Martin tapped the young man on his shoulder and smiled at the bridesmaids. “We still have about two or three hours of daylight, let’s get these teams on the river and make the most of what’s left of the day.” He headed for the door with Taylor right behind him dressed in cut-off jeans, a wrinkled and faded pink shirt and boat shoes, which had seen better days.

  Jeff, who had changed into ragged jeans and a faded, black tee-shirt with a logo so worn no one could read it, said, “Taylor why don’t you stay here and coordinate the activities? We’ll keep in touch with you via our cells.”

  “I’ve a better idea. Dad, you coordinate the search. You delegate better, people will take your orders, and besides I need to be active.” She met his eyes. “I’m going with you, Jeff. We’ll take my Carolina Skiff. It’s right by the dock.” She grabbed a pair of sun-glasses from the desk drawer in the hallway, slammed a bright, pink ball cap over her hair, and pulled a hastily shaped pony-tail through the small hole at the back.

  “Tiny …”

  “I’m not Tiny anymore. And I know these waters as well as any of you.” She gazed from her father to Jeff and back again. “I’ve got to stay busy. I’ll go crazy sitting by the phone waiting for
news.” She gestured with her hands; her face showed her frustration.

  “Manning the search teams works for me.” Martin glanced around for a moment. “Okay. I’ll set up a command post on the patio table.” Reverting to his old army days, he grabbed the papers and the maps and the portable phone. “And don’t worry, Taylor, we’ll find him. He’s probably out of gas or else his engine’s giving him trouble.” For a moment, his face clouded. “The problem we have, of course, is the Broad has so many tributaries and they all must be explored.” He eyed his daughter and cleared his throat. “A good thing we have a lot of people resources for this search,” he added in a firm, yet upbeat tone, as searchers headed towards the porch.

  To the group, he announced, “I’ll have my cell on and the portable will be available, too. We’ll try to keep one line open. Tim, let’s have your number and that of anyone else who’s manning the command post. I suggest each of you,” he gestured to a growing crowd, “put several of the command team’s numbers in your cells. That way if one is busy, you can try another.” He stopped. “Any questions?”

  Many shook their heads or mumbled no.

  A few of the bridesmaids had return and stood as if waiting for an assignment. Martin started to speak, but Taylor interrupted. “Dad, I have my friend’s numbers. Jeff and I will take the southern section of the Whale Branch River and the tributaries that lead off from that. We’ll check the area where Rod and I often fished.”

  “Be careful, you two.” Her father duly marked the section with their names, before turning to the next person in line.