by Janet Cooper
“Of course, your mom was one of my best friends in school. If I can do anything for you or your dad, please let me know.”
Taylor nodded and headed home with leaded feet. She almost dreaded going back to reality, which she had pushed aside while cleaning the stalls.
Chapter Five
As she walked up the dirt and stone driveway, she recognized Jeff’s BMW SUV parked in front her home. A moment later, he exited her home and glanced down the path. She lifted her hand and waved. He returned her greeting. How good to see him! Her lips curved up in an involuntary smile. Dressed in a short-sleeved light blue shirt that she knew would emphasized his dark, blue eyes, and black khakis that stretched over his long legs, she mentally pulled up short. What was she doing, an engaged, almost married woman ogling a single guy? She slowed her pace, to gain control of her very strange emotions.
“Taylor,” Jeff said, coming down the steps and toward her. “My classes ended at noon. Since your guests left this morning, I decided to come by and take you for lunch or just visit.” He surveyed her mud and muck spattered clothes. “Upon closer observation, I withdraw both suggestions.”
She laughed. “Don’t you like the aroma? It’s call eau de barn.”
“I recall that aroma and remember you’ve used that brand for years.” He chuckled.
She raised one hand to punch him an old game they’d played many times. He avoided her as easily as he had so often in the past.
“Oh, no.” He chuckled. “If both of us used the same perfume the board of health might condemn the entire plantation.”
“About lunch …”
“I withdraw my invitation,” he teased.
“About lunch. While I change, why don’t you raid the kitchen?” She gave a girlish smile.
“Before you change clothes, I suggest a shower with lots of soap,” he pretended to examine her closely, “and wash your hair, twice.” He zigzagged away from her.
She kept trying to swat him, but he avoided her.
They started walking the short distance to the house. “Nice car,” she said, as she glanced over the Beamer. “I didn’t realize professors’ salaries at local universities ranged so high. I might have to call my congresswoman and tell her to reduce your pay.” She contemplated him with a mock frown.
“If I had to survive on my salary, I’d be driving a three year-old Ford Focus. My consulting business does okay.” He opened the trunk and pulled out a pair of shorts and a tee shirt. “I always keep a change of clothes available.” Then he clicked the lid closed.
Taylor surveyed him strangely.
“In case I want to work out, go fishing, I have tackle and a rod in there, too. Always be prepared.”
“I’d forgotten you were an Eagle Scout.”
“Not quite. Girls came along and the scouting took second place.”
Changing the subject, she said, “I have a question about investments and unfortunately one about Ms. Lee.”
“Okay. What?”
“Not here. While we’re eating lunch.” She headed for the side door. “Mary would kill me if I walked into the hallway with this muck plastered to me.” Taylor strolled past the azaleas and the camellias, which months before had been a riot of color, to the end of the brick walkway. Rounding the house, she walked up the three outside steps leading to the bedrooms and the kitchen. After opening the door, she took a left and headed up the back steps, while Jeff moved toward the kitchen.
“Hi, Jeff,” said Mary, when he entered the kitchen. “I thought I heard Taylor.” She glanced behind him.
“I met her outside. She decided the smell of the barn wouldn’t add much to the kitchen, so she headed for her shower.”
“Wise idea.” Mary grabbed a wooden spoon and waved it on the air in a mocking threatening manner. “I’ll keep this handy if she decides to invade the kitchen prior to the shower.”
Jeff laughed. “She asked me to pack a lunch, too. Before I do, I’ll change clothes.”
*~*
When he returned, he watched Mary shut off the water running into the sink. She dried her hands on the towel thrown over her shoulder.
Jeff walked over and looked in the sink. Glistening peaches stared back at him. “A bit early for locals, but they look and smell great. May I?” he asked, reaching for one.
She nodded. “I just picked them from David Stanley’s garden, with our warm spring, everything’s a little early. They’re a little small, but twice as sweet. We had strawberries the beginning of April,” she added, almost wistfully.
Jeff chose a small, firm peachy-rose one and took a large bite, reducing the fruit by almost half. The juice threatened to spill over his lips and down his chin. He hastily wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. After a quick swallow, he stated, “David raises the best fruit in the state or anywhere else.”
Mary took one from the pile and dried the wet, furry covering. “I totally agree with you. What do you want for your picnic?” She took a bite of a peach.
“Actually, Taylor instructed me to ‘raid the kitchen’.”
She chuckled. “Oh, that brings back memories. I never knew if what I had prepared for dinner, especially the dessert, would be intact by the time you three finished …”
They stood quietly and awkwardly.
Finally, Mary said, “Jeff, why don’t I fix the picnic lunch? Taylor needs a distraction. She’s taking the DNR decisions not to continue the helicopter search hard. And that horrible woman Ms. Lee called at least twice this morning, once before the guests left. If Taylor isn’t here, she can’t take Ms. Lee calls or abuse. I tried to explain to that horrible woman, but she’s insensitive to any concern not her own.” Mary muttered something under her breath.
Jeff stared. Had Miss Mary sworn? If so, it was a first.
“How’s Doc handling his wife’s death?”
“Not well. We learned today that excessive speed caused the accident. Julia Ann always had a heavy foot.” She paused, a frown filling her face. “How’s your dad doing? I thought we’d see him for the wedding. Sorry, I keep saying things that stir up unpleasant memories,” she said a catch sounded in her throat.
Jeff shook his head. “Please don’t apologize. Dad’s better, getting stronger every day. He hoped to come, but he still takes a nap at least once a day. The combination of the service and the reception made the day too long. I offered to take him home if he tired, but he decided to pass.”
Mary nodded then looked directly at him. “I realize this is an imposition, but could your father come over? I’ll drive over and pick up Trey. Even if he only stayed for a short visit, he’d help. Not only have Martin and he been friends forever, but Doc needs someone who’s experienced what he’s going through.” A touch of sorrow flavored her words.
“Mom’s illness lasted for a long time. The situations are very different, but they do respect and enjoy each other’s company. If Doc has questions, my dad might be the best one to ask. I’ll bring him over, so don’t worry about transportation,” Jeff promised then snickered. “No doubt, Dad’ll tell me that he’ll drive himself.”
“Probably.” A smile showed in her tone of voice.
“How are the arrangements for the funeral coming?”
“Al White’s handling everything. He told Martin that’s why one has friends. After the service at St. Helena’s, the guests will come back to the house for lunch. Fancy Catering’s handling that part.”
He nodded then asked, “I realize this is a strange question, but what happened to all the food from the wedding?”
“Not so strange. I froze the cake. After they called off the search, we donated most of the dinner to Free Meals for Beaufort. At least, the food went to a worthy cause.”
“Good idea. Mom always gave her leftovers from big parties to that organization.” He paused before adding, “Sounds as if everything is under control.”
“Normally, that’s one of the things I do best.”
She stopped drying off the peaches and took
a deep breath. “Julia Ann and I shared a room in college. We were inseparable for a while. If I had waited. . .”
“Miss Mary, you’re not responsible. According to my dad and my own observations, Mrs. Harris lived her life without regarding others. If you had waited for her to go inside, she’d no doubt head off as soon as the beams of your tail lights faded from her window.” Jeff gave her a hug. “Hang in there.”
She sniffed and stepped away. “I’m better when I’m working. What would y’all like for lunch?”
“Sandwiches, sweet tea and a blanket would be great.”
“I believe I can add a few more items.”
“If you’ll excuse me for a minute, I’ll call Dad and see if he up to coming over. What time would be best?” Jeff pulled his cell off his belt.
“Four, probably. I’ll be happy to pick him up.” She repeated her earlier offer.
Jeff stepped out of the kitchen and onto the small porch on the side of the house. “Dad, it’s me.” He explained why he’d called. After clicking off, he strolled back into the kitchen. “Miss Mary. . .”
“Just Mary, please.”
He nodded. “I’ll try. Mary, it sounds strange to my ears.” He sent her a smile. “My dad said four is fine. He wanted to drive himself, but I told him I’d bring him over. He hopes he can help.”
“I’m sure he can. Having good friends, especially old friends around during times of trouble is a plus,” Mary replied. “Your picnic’s ready. The blanket’s on the top of the food.”
Jeff gave her a quick peck on the cheek.
“Hey!” Taylor interrupted. “Stop flirting with that beautiful woman! I’ll report you.”
“To whom?” His amusement showed in his face and voice.
“I’m working on it.” She screwed up her face, while inwardly she laughed.
He winked at Mary. “Don’t worry about her. Her threats mean nothing.”
“Then she won’t fire me for fooling with a guest?” Mary asked going along with the teasing.
“As if she’d dare dismiss you, her father would force her to give up mucking out the stables and forbid her from leaving the house. She would have to cook, do the wash, iron the clothes, clean, take out the garbage, and everything else,” he said, with mock sincerity.
Taylor chuckled. “Stop. I’m not sure who would suffer the most, Dad, me, or Mary.”
Jeff eyed her carefully. Strolled to her side and ran his fingers through her hair.
“What are you doing?” she asked in a small voice, as her cheeks turned pink.
“Checking to make sure you washed all the manure out.” He kept hold of her hair and took a deep breath. “Yes, she’s clean, Mary. I think we can go.”
Taylor stared at him. The red of her face deepened and confusion showed in her eyes.
Jeff smiled inwardly. He enjoyed her discomfort. Anything he could do to drive her thoughts away from Rod pleased him. For a few seconds, guilt threatened his plan. He pushed the emotion aside. Rod never deserved her.
Mary laughed as she looked from one to the other. “Jeff, why did you stay away so long? We’ve missed your humor.”
“Life happens.” He shrugged, unwilling to share the real reason. Forcing a lighter tone, he teased, “If we don’t have lunch soon, you’ll find me collapsed on the floor from lack of nourishment.” He faked a swoon.
Taylor grabbed the large, sweet-grass basket. “Thanks, Miss Mary. You, carry the thermos.” She directed her last words to Jeff.
He saluted, picked up the jug of sweet tea and headed to the side door.
Once outside, Taylor asked, “Have you decided on a spot?”
He grinned. “Yep!”
“Where?”
“Just follow me. I’ll lead the way.”
He headed across the grass toward the camellia garden and the river. Just before they left the lawn and entered the path that wended through, he stopped. “My mother loved this garden. I remember coming here as a little boy. Your grandmother was still alive.” He glanced at her.
She stood as if remembering. “She planned and started this whole area, wanting flowers in the winter.”
“My mom loved the idea and began one of her own. Nana Harris gave her cuttings to add to the collection. My job was to water the new plants. I hated that. Yet, when I came home, almost the first thing I did was check Mom’s camellias.” He studied the area for a few minutes.
“Nana Harris. Everyone called her that.”
“Her brownies surely are in the hall of fame for best cookies,” he added, before strolling further down the dirt covered path. The width allowed for single file only. On either side, rows of camellias stretched fifteen feet in the air, their circumference ten or more feet, so thick one couldn’t see beyond the next bend in the trail. Although bare of their beautiful flowers, Jeff remembered how they looked in full bloom. The memory sharply brought back his mother’s smile, which he matched with his own.
After several more twists and turns, Taylor’s words returned him to the present. “Are you sure you know where you are going?”
“Yep!”
“What’s with this ‘yep’?” she asked, in a bewildered tone.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he halted. She managed to squeeze beside him, because the path had widened a bit. They stood directly next to an old live oak. The tree had fallen over in a storm probably 100 years ago, yet the oak had managed to survive and keep growing.
Jeff turned toward the sideways tree. Taylor matched his move. For a moment, neither spoke, instead they admired Mother Nature’s creativity and tenaciousness.
The trunk, with a diameter of at least six or seven feet and an almost flat surface on the topside, cleared the ground by about an inch or two. Coming from the same source in the earth, another huge trunk rose forty-five feet. The canopy of limbs, branches, and leaves of the latter sheltered and shaded, almost protective of its prone twin. To the right flowed the Broad River, which permitted a gentle breeze to flow through the trees and bushes.
“I haven’t been here in ages.” She looked over at Jeff. “Remember when we would walk on the trunk? Once I dared you to jump off the end of the trunk into the pluff mud?”
“The scars from the oyster shells remind me every time I looked at my legs.”
“What?” She glimpsed his well-shaped calves, inspecting them carefully. “No scars.”
“No thanks to you,” he retorted.
“Me? I didn’t push you.” As she scanned the tips of oysters barely showing above the brown, harmless looking mud, remorse filled her. “Kids do the dumbest things. You could have been seriously hurt from the oyster bed if you’d have landed on your hands and knees.” She shook her head and turned her attention to him. “I’m sorry.”
“To be honest, I’d forgotten that incident.”
“Truly?” she asked.
“Truly,” he responded.
Permitting his words to comfort her, she took a deep breath. “What a perfect place.”
“Yep!” He grinned and she returned his smile.
“If you don’t stop that ‘yepping’, I’m going to whip y’all’s bottom,” she said in a very pronounced Lowcountry accent.
He placed the thermos on the flat portion of the tree and peeked down her at her five-feet- eight inches from his six feet-one inch. “You’re what?” A mischievous mood filled him and his face showed his teasing.
Taylor stood very close to Jeff. He could smell the lemony shampoo she’d used on her hair. Her eyes shown with uncertainty, before she blinked and looked away. She bent down, lifted the lid, and grabbed the worn and faded green cotton blanket from the basket. Without facing him, she handed him the cloth. “Make yourself useful.”
Although her voice sounded harsh almost gruff, his mood remained unaffected. He remembered her hesitation and treasured the memory. As she unpacked the items, handing him item after item, he placed each on the blanket. His attention stayed focused on her. Waiting for her to peek, but she didn’t.
She stood up. “Someone had to unload. You were too busy making threats.”
Although she, too, attempted to lighten her tone, to him her voice sounded artificial and forced.
Taylor climbed on the tree and straddled the trunk before snaring a peach. After taking one bite, she said, “David’s,” and took an even larger bite. “I love these.” With a few more bites, the peach disappeared. She tossed the pit into the water then casually licked her fingers, one at a time.
He jammed his hands in his pockets preventing him taking her hand and doing the washing himself. With a great deal of difficulty, he pushed his burning and building desires aside. “What did you want to ask me?” He cleared his throat, pretending to cough.
She hesitated as if building her nerve. “If Rod isn’t found alive …” She stopped.
He ached to touch her and comfort her but had just gained control of his own emotions. If he took her in his arms, he feared she’d realize he loved her. Right now, Taylor required a friend not a lover. He asked, as calmly as possible, under the circumstances, “Yes?”
“This is hard, talking about him, even saying his name.” She cleared her throat. “What will happen to his offers and his company? When I saw Jean this morning, I remembered he’d promised to buy a couple of properties surrounding Eagle Point, one of them belongs to Jean’s family. She never wanted her family to sell, but her parents must have money to move into an assisted living facility.”
“I’d heard her mom had cancer.”
“Yeah, and her dad’s heart isn’t the best.”
“As for your question, much depends on what type of company he had and at what stage the offers were.”
“Explain.” She bent one leg and slid her foot under her other knee, before leaning forward slightly.