Turning, she found Josh had straightened and stood waiting anxiously for her response. She read both hope and fear in his eyes.
“Why’d you show me all this?” she asked.
“I…I thought you’d like it.”
She didn’t turn away her gaze. “What does it matter if I do or don’t?”
His face fell and he stared back at her, dumbfounded. She saw his throat constrict. Then he said in an injured voice, “You know it matters.”
She saw the truth of it in his eyes and closed her own. “Josh…” she said on a sigh.
He crossed the porch to her side and reached for her, but she held her hands up to stop him from taking her in his arms. His hands hung in the air awkwardly before he let them fall and took a step back.
“Lizzy, I’m trying hard to show you I’ve changed.”
“Josh, don’t. Please. It’s too late for us.”
“Don’t say that.”
“You hurt me!”
“I’m sorry I hurt you. I was a stupid, idiotic, shit-faced kid. I threw away what we had. But I’m not the same person I was then. I’ve changed.”
She searched his eyes. “You say you’ve changed. I’d like to believe you.”
“You can.”
“But will it last?”
He grabbed her hands, entwining their fingers as tightly as the jasmine vine around the trellis. “Yes. I promise you.”
She felt herself respond to his touch, coming alive like the drooping head of a flower at the taste of rain. It caused a rush of grief and her throat strained against a sob.
“Oh, Josh, I’m sorry,” she said, slipping her hands away and bringing them to her face. “I can’t trust you. I don’t want to trust you.”
She heard his heavy exhale of disbelief.
Lizzy dropped her hands, letting him see the tears on her cheeks. “You did more than hurt me,” she told him accusingly. “You stole my innocence about love. It was girlish and naïve, I suppose. I want to believe love is forever, but I can’t anymore. You cut me deep, and that scar, it might have healed, but it changed me! I’m changed! I don’t believe that love is all that matters anymore. And you know what? It hurts to feel so jaded. I feel used up, and I hate it that I won’t feel that again.” She swiped the tears from her face and took a long, steadying breath. “Besides, I’m a mother now, and I’ve got to think about Will’s future.”
His face betrayed a flash of anger. “And you think I don’t worry about that?”
“I don’t know. We didn’t see you for five years. After you left, I don’t know what I’d have done if it weren’t for my parents. They put me up, kept me going while I patched my life back together.”
“I didn’t think you wanted to see me. And I sent my payments.”
That was true. His child support came on time every month. “I’m grateful for that.”
He swung his head to look out at the garden, but she felt sure he wasn’t seeing the carefully planned contours of the garden beds or the puffs of dandelions floating on the soft breeze. His gaze was turned inward, his lips taut. Then he looked at his polished brown shoes and wearily shook his head.
“I don’t know what else I can do,” he said in a low voice.
They stood with their arms locked around themselves, staring out at the garden. After several minutes, Josh spoke again.
“Those years you didn’t see me? I was working. Like a galley slave on one trawler after another. I lived like a pauper, saving every penny till I could buy a boat. It isn’t much, I know that. But she’s a trusty vessel and I knew I could make something of her. I named her the Hope, and I guess you know why. When I moved back here, I came with the purpose of showing you I’d changed. I started working all over again and saved enough so I could put a down payment on this house. It’s not much, but I know I can make it into a place you’d be proud to live in.”
“What did you think I’d do? See the house and just ask when we were moving in? Did you think I’d fall under your spell again like I did when I was fourteen? I’m not a little girl anymore. I can’t take any chances.”
Josh held her gaze, and she saw the struggle in his eyes. He reached out to wipe away a tear from her cheek. “Well, that’s all I’m asking for. A second chance.”
He slowly turned and went to lock the back door, jiggling the handle to make sure it was locked, then headed down the stairs to the yard. She felt the sun on her back as she followed him wordlessly along the gravel path to the front of the house and the pickup truck waiting in the street.
“I’ll be right back,” he said after opening her door. “I’ve got to lock up.”
The cab of the truck was sweltering when she climbed in. She glanced at the clock—only an hour had passed since they’d arrived at the house, but it felt like much longer. She squeezed her eyes closed for a moment, then startled when she heard the driver’s-side door open and inhaled raggedly.
Josh climbed in and promptly fired the engine. The air-conditioning blasted out hot air. He quickly turned the power down. “It’ll take a minute to cool down,” he said apologetically.
“That’s fine, thank you.”
He nodded, then jammed the gear into first and pulled away. Lizzy turned and, with an ache inside, caught a final glimpse of the sweet cottage nestled under a thick canopy of oaks. Neither spoke as they drove down the narrow street, but Lizzy was aware of how many inches lay between them, of cold air blowing across their sweating skin, of each cough, movement, breath Josh took.
When Josh pulled into the driveway of White Gables, he didn’t cut the engine. It rumbled loudly and shook the cab as it idled.
Lizzy licked her lips. “It’s a really pretty house,” she said softly.
He didn’t look at her. His hands still gripped the wheel. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I’m sure you’ll make it a jewel with all your plans.”
“We’ll see,” he said, without any of the excitement he’d shown earlier. It pained her to hear it.
“Josh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He swung his head her way and gave her a sad smile. “I know that, Lizzy. That’s not your way. Can I come by for Will tomorrow? I promised I’d take him to his game.”
“Sure. He’s looking forward to it. He’ll be glad you’re moving closer,” she said, trying to add cheer to her voice. “He’ll be able to ride his bike to your new house. It’s a real nice house,” she repeated.
They both knew there wasn’t anything more they could say. Lizzy pushed open the door and stepped out into the dog-day heat. She stood in the sun and watched him raise his hand in a silent farewell. The gear thunked loudly as it shifted to reverse and he backed away.
As she watched him drive off, she wondered whether he was returning to the sweet cottage on Oak Street. She saw again in her mind the small house and heard his voice as he walked her through each room. What color would she paint the kitchen? Did she like the black-and-white tile in the bathroom? She saw again the blue flowers on the table and knew that Josh had arranged them in a vase and carefully set them out, like a bowerbird, to please her.
September 21, 2008
McClellanville
On the dock, Lizzy felt a cool breeze lift her hair. She could taste the rain coming. The two trawlers in the distance were surrounded now by clouds of birds, and she imagined the crew culling shrimp. It had been a tough season, one of the worst. Josh had been working round the clock to make his child-support and house payments.
She thought of what Mr. Dunnan had told her about change. How she’d have to be willing to sweep away the past and welcome the future. Did she have that kind of courage? That kind of faith? Did she love Josh enough? She wondered, too, if Mr. Dunnan was right about second chances.
9
September 21, 2008, 11:45 a.m.
White Gables
The front doorbell chimed. Carolina closed her eyes and sighed. Who could that be? she thought, glancing up at the clock. Her hands rested
on a ceramic bowl full of frosting. She had these cupcakes to finish and bring to Will’s class before snack time. She took a breath and considered not answering, but the bell chimed again. I’m no better than Pavlov’s dog, she thought peevishly as she licked the creamy frosting from her fingers. Then, grabbing a kitchen towel, she hurried down the front hall. After a quick wipe of her hands, she opened the front door.
“Odelle!” she exclaimed, surprised to see the slight woman in seersucker shorts and a white cotton shirt. She was still trim, but in middle age the size of her waist was no longer a source of pride for her.
They’d been friends since the seventies when they’d started teaching together, and Carolina would swear Odelle hadn’t gained a pound in all those years. Her hair was as dark as the day Carolina had met her, but the evenness of the color made it obvious it was no longer natural. She had cut her hair short years before in what she liked to call a pixie style. Carolina thought it accentuated the sharpness of Odelle’s nose and chin. Some people compared Odelle’s delicate features to a bird’s. Others, less charitable, conjured up the image of a wasp.
Odelle had been one of her first friends in McClellanville, and they’d been through a lot together. Odelle’s kindness could be surprising, as could her quick temper. But she was always careful with Carolina not to push too far, knowing Carolina would reach a boiling point and push back. Over the years their friendship had grown comfortable. Yet almost from the beginning, Carolina had known that it would never be the close bond she shared with Judith.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“Come on in,” Carolina said, stepping aside. She was slender herself, but she felt like a giant towering over her petite friend. Odelle hurried in, fanning her pale face with a handful of papers she was carrying.
“Honey, I’d kill for a glass of water,” Odelle said, her dark eyes quickly scanning the front room. “I’m about to faint, I’m so parched.”
“Come on back.” Carolina brushed flour from her jeans as she led Odelle to the kitchen at the back of the house.
Odelle lifted her nose. “Smells good in here. What are you baking?”
“Butter cupcakes for Will,” she replied, going to the cabinet for a clean glass. “Lizzy made them from scratch. The school is strict about not too much sugar and nothing artificial.”
“I used to whip out a box of Betty Crocker and bake up a batch of cupcakes in no time.”
“Me, too,” Carolina replied with a laugh as she filled the glass with cold water from the fridge and handed it to Odelle. “Forgive the mess. I had to go to the dentist this morning and raced back to get these cupcakes frosted for Lizzy.” She grabbed the milk jug and an open carton of eggs from the table and put them in the fridge. “It’s been that kind of morning.”
Odelle picked up a few dishes and spoons and carried them to the sink along with her glass. She found the sponge in the sink and rinsed it, talking loudly over the noise of running water. “I’m glad to hear you got that tooth taken care of. What did he do?”
“He pulled it. I’ve got this big hole in my mouth, but at least the pain’s gone.”
Odelle made a face. “Ow. Poor baby. Poor, stubborn baby. I told you to go see the dentist way back when you might’ve saved it.”
“Yeah, well…” Carolina shrugged. She returned to the big yellow ceramic bowl. “You know how it is without insurance….” She let the sentence hang. It was a common enough situation in town. Odelle had divorced Lee Edwards before he got rich, so she was pinching pennies like most everyone else. “We’ll just have to find a way to pay over time. Same as always.”
Odelle began wiping the flour from the counter. “It’s going to be harder than ever now.”
Carolina looked up from the bowl. “Why’s that?”
Odelle’s eyes, made up with black eyeliner even at this early hour, widened with surprise. “You heard what Lee’s done at the fish house, haven’t you?”
Carolina’s hand stilled. “No. What did he do now?”
“He canceled all credit, is all. It’s a cash-only basis now.”
The news took Carolina’s breath away. She stood for a minute with her mouth open. She couldn’t believe it was true.
And yet, she could. She’d worked for Coastal Seafood for years. She’d virtually run the place before she quit. Having done the books, she knew better than anyone the tenuous interdependence between the fishermen and the fish house. The shrimpers needed to keep their boats running so they could go out and bring in the product, and the warehouse needed a product to sell. But sometimes the tabs grew beyond what a man might need for fuel or ice or a piece of equipment. She’d seen Lee’s credit extend to covering a hospital bill for an injured captain or surgery for his wife.
“It’ll run most of us out of business,” Carolina said in a matter-of-fact voice. “No one will be able to pay him back.” Her thoughts went immediately to Bud, then to Josh.
Odelle rubbed the sponge on the counter. “I’m no longer privy to inside information, but I heard he’s thinking of selling out.” She glanced up, her dark eyes taking Carolina’s measure.
“No. He’d never sell the fish house.”
“Lee made his money in real estate, and I can only imagine the fat offers he’s fielding for that prime dock space.”
Carolina shook her head, feeling a buzzing between her ears. “He knows if the fish house goes, it all goes.”
“Don’t get upset, honey,” Odelle said. “I’m just telling you what I heard. It’s probably only temporary. You know, he’s tightening things up for a while, trying to hang on like everyone else.”
Carolina gave her a look that said that tidbit didn’t soften the blow. She pulled out a chair and slumped into it, leaning her elbows on the table. “If he does shut down, it’ll be as devastating as Hurricane Hugo was.”
Odelle pulled out a chair across from her and joined her at the table. “Funny you should mention that today.”
Carolina looked at her questioningly.
“Don’t you know today’s date?”
Carolina looked up at the wall calendar. September 21. She blanched. “My God, I’ve been so busy it didn’t register. How many years has it been?”
“Nineteen. Next year is the twentieth anniversary of Hurricane Hugo. Hard to believe, isn’t it?”
It was hard to believe so many years had passed since that devastating hurricane. Anyone who’d lived through Hugo would never forget the monster storm that had hit the town with screaming 140-mile-an-hour winds and a storm surge that had destroyed homes and tossed boats like toys. The swath of destruction extended hundreds of miles inland and had essentially blacked out most of eastern South Carolina.
“I used to measure time by before Hugo or after Hugo,” Carolina said. “To think I finally let the trauma slip by and actually forgot it.”
“You didn’t forget it. You just got past it.” Odelle’s voice went soft. “You’ll never forget it. Or the sound of the wind.”
Carolina responded to the change in tone and drew in closer. Talking about the hurricane was like picking at a scab—you couldn’t stop yourself. In the whole of Charleston County, whenever the hurricane was mentioned, heads drew close and stories were shared. Everyone wanted to tell where they were when Hugo hit.
“You were one of the ones in Lincoln High School, weren’t you?”
Odelle’s face went still. She nodded, her gaze glassy as she traveled back to September 21, 1989. “I don’t like to think about it much. It’s like a lifetime ago. I remember I wanted us to go to my family’s house in Moncks Corner, but Lee didn’t want to leave town. So we boarded up the house and settled in, but when we heard houses on the water were in danger, we went to the shelter like we were told. Us and about six hundred others. When we saw how crowded it was we wanted to go back, but it was too late to leave.”
She rubbed her arm and a shaky smile crossed her face. “You know how I am in cramped places. I have a touch of claustrophobia. I couldn�
�t breathe. Let’s just say I wasn’t at my best. Lee was getting angry at me, telling me to be calm and not scare Tressy. He told me how the school was sixteen feet above sea level, so we were safe.”
“No one knew that wouldn’t be high enough,” Carolina said. “How could they?”
“Easy to say now. We’d been there for hours when we heard someone shouting, ‘Water! Water!’ Of a sudden I felt cold water swirling around my feet, and it just felt so wrong, you know? Everyone was looking at their feet, trying to make sense of it. Then the water broke through the doors of the building. I grabbed hold of Tressy and we all scrambled to climb on tables and chairs, any place we could to get out of the rising water. It was a stampede. I reached for Lee but he ran ahead. I saw him climbing up on a file cabinet, so I sloshed through that water and screamed for him to take Tressy. He had this look in his eyes, round and glassy, like he didn’t hear me. The water was up to my knees so I screamed again, and this time he pulled her up. I was pushed away, but some nice man grabbed my arms and pulled me up on the stage.”
Carolina was entranced by Odelle’s words. It was like she was telling a ghost story.
“When the water reached our necks, parents began lifting their children into the air-conditioning ducts and onto the roof rafters. I screamed for Lee to take care of Tressy, but I doubt he heard me in that mayhem. Truth was, I wasn’t sure he would.”
“That’s a harsh thing to say about a man.”
“That’s a pitiful fact to face,” Odelle whispered, as though shocked she was talking about her own husband, not somebody else’s. “He’s her father, for God’s sake. I wasn’t sure he’d put her first. Can you believe that?”
“Sweetie,” Carolina said, “sometimes all our ideas of what a man should be shift and change in an instant.”
“We thought we were going to die, and we couldn’t depend on him.”
Carolina reached out to place her hand over Odelle’s. She’d heard some version of that story many times over the years, but she’d never before heard about Lee’s cowardice.
Last Light over Carolina Page 13