The High Tide Club
Page 47
“Nice to meet you too,” Pete said, shaking her hand. “Could we, uh, have a minute or two in private?”
Marie closed the door softly, and Brooke felt herself sag against the frame. She realized with a start that this was the same doorstep where she’d gotten her first goodnight kiss after her first car date, at fifteen.
“Tell me what you want, Brooke,” Pete said, looking directly into her eyes. “And don’t make it just about Henry. Do you want me to stay?” He traced the scar on her cheek with a fingertip. “What happened here?”
“Another long story,” Brooke said. “Resulting from a near-fatal lack of good judgment. Could you please repeat that last question?”
“Do. You. Want. Me. To. Stay?”
This time she was ready with an answer. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Yeah, I think it would be good if you could stick around to see what happens next. Do you think maybe you could kiss me now? Like, for old times’ sake?”
He put a hand on either side of her face and did as she asked, kissing her with a sweet intensity that left her aching for everything she’d missed.
“Okay,” he said finally. “I’ll move to the coast. We’ll figure us out. And the dad thing.”
“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into,” Brooke said.
The door opened a crack, and they hastily pulled apart. Henry stepped onto the porch, dressed in his favorite SpongeBob T-shirt and a sagging pair of pull-ups. “I pooped,” he announced proudly.
Brooke scooped up her son and handed him over to Pete. “About that dad thing…”
Epilogue
October 2018
Moonlight dappled the water, and a stiff wind rattled the fronds of palm trees and swirled sand around the ankles of the five women standing at the water’s edge.
Felicia tightened the blanket draped around her elderly aunt’s shoulders. It had been an unusually chilly October on Talisa, with temperatures dipping into the forties and high winds buffeting the fragile dunes.
“Are you warm enough, Auntie?” she asked.
“There’s an extra blanket in the back of the Packard,” Lizzie offered.
“Don’t y’all be fussin’ over me now,” Varina said. “I’ve lived this long, and I haven’t frozen or blown away yet.”
“Well, I for one am chilled to the bone,” Marie said with an exaggerated shiver. “I know we agreed to do this every time we’re together on a full moon, but nobody said anything about getting frostbite in the process.”
Brooke gestured at the quilt, beach chairs, and picnic basket they’d set up a few yards away. “Don’t be such a whiny baby, Mom. We’ve got hot toddies in the thermoses and plenty of beach towels.”
“And what about that fire I built?” Lizzie asked. She’d spent hours digging a pit in the sand and circling it with bricks left over from the latest island restoration project. They’d hauled down a load of wood in the beach cart, and now the flames leaped high into the frigid night air, crackling and sending up showers of sparks.
“I think we should wait until the weather warms up again in the spring,” Marie said. “After all, we didn’t swim last month when you had court in Brunswick, Brooke, and it seems to me that Felicia was off island in August, visiting her new beau.”
“No, ma’am,” Varina said firmly. “Y’all know what today’s date is?”
“It’s October 21,” Felicia said.
“Same exact date as the first time, the night after Millie’s engagement party,” Varina said solemnly. She pointed up at the star-shattered night. “You know what that is? It’s a hunter moon, just like that night it all started. We only get one of those a year. Might be the last one I ever see.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Felicia said.
“It’s the truth. I’m ninety-one. Nobody in my family ever lived this long. I could go tonight or tomorrow, and I’m at peace with that,” Varina said.
“Why is this so important to you, Varina?” Lizzie asked. “I can’t believe you don’t want to forget this date and everything associated with it. What happened to you—”
“Is in the past. And that’s why I cast that ugliness out of my heart. I’m not letting it fester there like a poison-filled boil,” Varina said. She grasped Lizzie’s hand tightly and gazed out at the moon in wonder. “You know I wouldn’t ever say that man’s name after that night. I couldn’t. But when I woke up to this sunny morning and realized what today is, it struck me from out of nowhere. I can’t hate him no more. He is long dead, cold and in the grave, and I am alive and more blessed than I deserve. I got me a son I never even knew about. I got my own little home right here on this island, got family and friends…”
Marie nodded and grasped her daughter’s hand. Wordlessly, Brooke reached for Felicia’s hand.
“His name was Russell Strickland,” Varina said. She repeated the name, enunciating and pausing between each syllable. “Russ. Sell. Strick. Land.”
Without prompting, the women repeated the name.
“Russell Strickland is powerless over me,” Varina said. She shrugged out of the blanket and took one tentative step into the water, and then another, letting out an involuntary yip of shock as the cold water reached her knees and then waist. She turned once, looking over her shoulder at the four women, standing naked on the shore.
“Y’all coming?”
ALSO BY MARY KAY ANDREWS
The Beach House Cookbook
The Weekenders
Beach Town
Save the Date
Christmas Bliss
Ladies’ Night
Spring Fever
Summer Rental
The Fixer Upper
Deep Dish
Savannah Breeze
Blue Christmas
Hissy Fit
Little Bitty Lies
Savannah Blues
About the Author
MARY KAY ANDREWS is the New York Times bestselling author of Beach Town, Save the Date, Ladies’ Night, Christmas Bliss, Spring Fever, Summer Rental, The Fixer Upper, Deep Dish, Blue Christmas, Savannah Breeze, Hissy Fit, Little Bitty Lies, and Savannah Blues. A former journalist for The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, she lives in Atlanta, Georgia.
Visit www.marykayandrews.com, or sign up for email updates here.
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Epilogue
Also by Mary Kay Andrews
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
THE HIGH TIDE CLUB. Copyright © 2018 by Whodunnit, Inc. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
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Cover design by Michael Stomings
Cover photographs: fence © Gail Tanski/Alamy Stock Photo; crab © Grant and Caroline/ Getty Images; beach © BlueOrange Studio/Shutterstock.com; bag © BlueOrange Studio/ Shutterstock.com; mermaid © Shafran/Shutterstock.com
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-12606-1 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-250-19962-1 (international, sold outside the U.S., subject to rights availability)
ISBN 978-1-250-19803-7 (signed edition)
ISBN 978-1-250-20247-5 (Sam’s Club Exclusive Edition)
ISBN 978-1-250-12609-2 (ebook)
e-ISBN 9781250126092
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First Edition: May 2018