Carolina began stacking books from a box on the shelves. Her face was radiant and she moved like a young girl again after months of anxiety. When she’d slipped the last book into place, she walked to the center of the room, sniffing the air like a hound on the scent.
“I still smell a little mildew,” she said.
“Honey, this house was underwater,” he replied. “That smell’s going to linger for a while.”
“Well, let’s keep the windows open, then.”
Allison Brailsford walked into the room carrying a tray of coffee and cookies. “Opening the windows, Bud? It’s getting chilly in here.”
Bud looked over his shoulder at his mother-in-law. Even while baking and sweeping floors, the woman looked like she was going to the club. She even ironed her jeans. But she was a trouper, he had to hand it to her. She’d come with Edgar to help them move in and was a whirlwind. For the past few days, she’d made beds, unpacked linens, cooked meals, done the dishes, and even gone out in the yard to plant flowers. She was okay in his book.
“I got my orders,” he told her with a grin.
“Just for a little while, Mama,” Carolina told her. “The mildew smells mixed with the paint smells are overwhelming. I don’t want Lizzy to get sick.”
Allison stopped in the front hall and lifted her nose. “It’s not so bad. I like the smell of fresh paint.” She set the tray down, and her gaze swept the freshly painted front rooms. The tables were polished and the new chandelier, though not as grand as the original, sparkled in the late-afternoon sun. “Oh, sweetheart, the house looks wonderful, doesn’t it? Who’d have thought after that horrible storm this house could have been put back to rights? It’s better than ever.”
“Thanks to you and Daddy,” Carolina said, coming closer to press her cheek against her mother’s.
Bud yanked on the stubborn window. The paint was sticking.
“We love this old house, too, you know,” Allison said, taking a seat on the blue Victorian sofa. “I only wish Aunt Lucille were here to see this.” Her bright blue eyes threatened to fill at the thought of her favorite aunt. Aunt Lucille had survived Hurricane Hugo but died a few months after. The doctors said it was her heart, and they’d all agreed, but not for the same reason. Everyone believed Aunt Lucille had died of a broken heart, seeing her beloved White Gables and the town of McClellanville so devastated.
“She’s here in spirit,” Carolina said softly. “I can feel her.”
Lizzy skipped past them humming a song with the running lyrics “Moving day, moving day.”
Allison watched her granddaughter move from room to room, her face a picture of maternal adoration. “Look at the child. She’s just so happy to be here!”
“And out of the awful condo in Myrtle Beach. We all are. I hated that place.”
“It’s been a long six months, Carolina, but you’re home now,” her mother said.
The window rattled up the frame.
“Place is looking good!” Edgar Brailsford said as he came down the stairs. He’d cleaned up after painting the trim on the back porch. In his khaki pants and white polo, he looked like a typical banker on holiday. He stepped into the front room and clasped his hands before him, grinning like a man before a feast. “It sure is great to be back in this old house. God, we love it here. So many great memories. Now that you’re living here, we’ll come down more often. Family is all that matters, right?”
Bud grinned but didn’t say anything. He couldn’t get past Edgar’s claim that he’d be coming to visit more often.
Edgar eased himself into one of the newly upholstered armchairs and sat back, crossing his legs and looking around the room like he owned the place. “Can you believe it? We got here in less than four hours. ’Course, with your mother in the car, I had to go slower.”
Allison began pouring coffee. “Your brother and his wife have been like hens, worrying over you ever since that hurricane. They’ll be so glad to see the pictures.” She handed a cup to Carolina beside her. “Oh, that reminds me. Greg wanted me to ask you if July was okay for them to come down for a visit. The kids are out of school then.”
Carolina looked at Bud for confirmation. He shrugged and lowered himself into the other armchair.
“I guess that’s all right,” she replied. “I mean, we are only just getting settled. I’ll call him.”
“July is months away,” her mother said breezily. “You’ll be settled in by then. We wish we were closer to you, so we just have to come down more often.”
Bud met Carolina’s gaze. Carolina raised her brows as if to say, What can I do?
Everyone had been served coffee, and Bud was the only one who reached for one of Allison’s chocolate-chip cookies. They were still warm. They were having “tea,” as Allison put it, but there seemed to be some important family topic on the agenda that Bud wasn’t aware of, and it made him apprehensive. They’d all come a long way since that first tense meeting at the Brailsfords’ country club. But Bud still didn’t trust his father-in-law. Something was bubbling in that old badger’s mind, he thought.
“Well,” Edgar began. “Carolina and I talked, and she wanted me to speak with you about a matter that came up recently that concerns all of us.”
Bud swung his head to look at his wife. Carolina had her hands clenched in her lap. “She didn’t tell me about this. We don’t keep a lot of secrets from each other. So my curiosity is piqued.”
“It’s no secret. More a surprise,” Carolina rushed to clarify. “Daddy, let’s not have a preamble. Just tell Bud what you propose.”
Edgar took a small sip of coffee, then set his cup on the table. “I don’t need to tell you the precarious nature of the economy these days, do I, Bud?”
Bud didn’t reply.
“In my day, when an opportunity came my way, I seized it.”
Bud’s eyes narrowed. “Where are you going with this, Edgar?”
“Where I’m going, as you put it, is to this point. Lee Edwards is buying the Coastal Seafood Company.”
“Yeah, I know.” Bud’s tone was incredulous. “He’s my best friend. How do you know this?” Bud looked at Carolina. She half-smiled and shrugged. “Oh.”
“I know a lot about it,” Edgar answered. “I have friends, connections who keep me apprised. Everyone recognizes the importance of the Coastal Seafood Company to the town and the region. And, as you already know, Mr. Edwards—”
“Lee,” Bud interjected.
Brailsford shrugged. “Lee is putting together an offer to buy it. The timing is excellent, as the place is in ruins and the owner is looking to get out. Any businessman would admit that Edwards’s timing—stepping in to buy the destroyed warehouse from a traumatized seller at a rock-bottom price—is financially brilliant. Now, Lee’s willing to consider a partner in this venture. It’s a large operation, and he could use another investor to help the company meet its projected goals. The man has big plans.”
“I know his plans,” Bud said flatly.
Carolina looked at Bud, hopeful.
“Anyway,” Edgar continued. “We had a good discussion. That young man trusts my judgment and is willing to take my advice. And I agreed to provide the collateral for you. You and Carolina, of course.” He looked around the living room at his family with an expression of magnanimity.
Bud stared back at his father-in-law, incredulous. “That’s a good one, Edgar. I have to admit, I didn’t see that one coming. But I’m pretty sure you know Carolina and I can’t afford to make an investment like that. Especially not now.”
“Yes, well, I do happen to be aware of that. However, if I help out with the procurement of the—”
Bud’s face was implacable. “No.”
“I beg your pardon?” Edgar was not accustomed to being interrupted.
“You heard me. The answer is no.” Bud turned to Carolina, cutting her off with a look before she could speak.
“You’re being unreasonable here,” Brailsford said.
“And
you’re being insulting.”
“Insulting? How?”
“By offering to loan me money to buy a business I can’t begin to afford.”
“Bud, be reasonable,” Carolina said. “We’re not going to get this chance again. It’s right in front of us. My father only wants to help us. Consider it my inheritance.”
“Your father paid to renovate your aunt Lucille’s house for us to live in. That was your inheritance.”
Edgar sat back in his chair, mulish. “It’s my own goddamn money. Why don’t you let me decide what I will or won’t give my daughter?”
“Carolina’s my wife.”
“Bud—”
“No. This house is already a stretch for us. Now you want me to invest in Lee’s company? How do we know it won’t go bust?”
“What does it matter?” Brailsford said coolly. “It’s not your money Carolina is investing. It’s hers.”
“Daddy!”
“That’s it,” Bud said, slamming his hands on his knees. He rose to his feet and walked away from the group to stand at the front window.
“Bud…” Carolina said, perched forward in her chair.
“Don’t make a decision you’re going to regret,” Brailsford said in a menacing tone.
“That’s enough, Edgar.” Allison’s voice, though soft, was as firm as iron. A moment of stunned silence followed this declaration. Then she continued in her honeyed voice, “I’m sorry, Bud. We don’t mean to interfere. This is entirely your decision, of course. Yours and Carolina’s. We just want the two of you to be happy. It’s been such a hard time for you both.”
Allison rose gracefully and smoothed her jeans with even strokes. “Well, enough said, I should think. Edgar, won’t you help me in the kitchen? I think that roast is about ready to come out.”
She smiled prettily and turned toward her husband; Bud couldn’t see the Get up and get out look he was sure Edgar was receiving.
Edgar’s face flushed and he rubbed his jaw in consternation. “It’s your decision,” he said in defeat, and followed his wife to the kitchen.
Bud rested his hands on the white wood and looked out the window at the lawn. Six months ago it had been a mess of dead marsh grass, pieces of pier and boats, and junk washed in by the hurricane’s tidal surge. They’d lost just about everything. Their house was demolished and everything in it, and though they were lucky with their boat, it still had suffered some damage. It was a season that had tested him as a father, a husband, a fisherman, and a man. They’d been renting the only place they could afford. But they weren’t the only ones. Nobody in McClellanville hadn’t been hammered by the storm. As much as he hated to admit it, he was grateful to Carolina’s parents for coming through in the pinch.
Carolina joined him at the window and looked out. They stood side by side for a few moments while the tension dissipated in the fresh air.
“I don’t smell mildew,” Bud said.
“You don’t think your socks smell after a few days on the boat, either,” Carolina chided.
He laughed, relieved by her humor. A peace settled between them. “No, really, it’s not bad.”
“It’s better than it was a few months ago, that’s for sure. But it’ll take a few weeks with the windows open to really air it out.” She sighed. “Thank God it’s spring.”
“I didn’t mean to be rude to your parents.”
“My father wants to give the money to help us. It might be a good idea. It would give us security for the future.”
“I’m your security.”
“I know.”
“They already put out a small fortune to fix up this house,” he argued. “Did you see the way they look at this place? It’s like they own it. They’re planning their vacations here!”
Carolina smirked. “I did notice that. They’re just excited, Bud. We all are. We’ll be lucky if they come down for a week in the summer and every other Christmas. I hope they do. We have plenty of room, and I miss them.”
“I don’t care about that. But this other. Caro, I can’t take a handout from your father.”
“It’s not a handout.”
“Okay, call it a loan. Either way, your father will lord it over me and Lee will lord it over me, making me feel small. The bad blood would spill over and come between us. You know I’m right.”
Carolina was silent.
“Look,” he said, his voice conciliatory, “I love you. I want to take care of you. Provide for you and Lizzy. But I can’t take your father’s money.”
“Are you sure my father’s the only reason you won’t take it?”
Bud tilted his head, not understanding what she meant.
“Is it because the company is being bought by Lee?”
There had always been a deep-rooted rivalry between Bud Morrison and Lee Edwards. Though they were best friends coming up, they’d battled over everything. Oz still joked about how they were always arguing as boys over who ran the fastest, who could catch the biggest fish, who could pop the most shrimp heads. Truth was, Oz had encouraged the rivalry. He was never hesitant to push Bud, to test the mettle of his elder son.
As they grew older, the competition had become more subtle but even more pointed. Lee liked to needle Bud on how he’d gone to college and Bud hadn’t. Unlike the Morrisons, the Edwardses always had money, and Lee had a knack for making more.
Bud put his hands on his hips and considered that. “Honestly, maybe a little. Look, Carolina, this might be a good investment. But we don’t have the money. We’re in hock up to our necks with repairs to this house and the Miss Carolina. And this house, as much as you love it, is going to cost us. Then there’s Lizzy’s school tuition. Yeah, yeah,” he said, holding up his hand and stopping Carolina from interrupting him. “I know your parents are helping with her tuition. That’s another handout I have to deal with.” He moved his hands to her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Carolina, I don’t want to go into business with Lee. I don’t want to go into debt to your father. We can take care of ourselves, you and me. Like we always have. Look what we just got through! The hurricane of the century clobbered us, and we’re standing here on our feet. My boat’s back in the water. I’m making a good living. When we got married, I told you what I’ve got is what I am. That’s still true today. I hope that’s enough for you.”
Carolina moved closer and rested her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her.
“Isn’t nature resilient?” she said, looking out. “Six months ago, this street looked like a bomb hit it. Now look at it. The grass is green and there’s even some moss back in that live oak tree. I thought we’d lost those gardenias, but they’re coming back. And soon, so will the hydrangeas.” She closed her eyes and sniffed. “I can smell the gardenias. My favorite.”
Bud brought his cheek to her neck. “This’s my favorite smell.”
She leaned back into his arms to look him in the face. “We’ll be happy here, won’t we?”
“Why wouldn’t we be?”
She put her head back on his shoulder with a sigh. “No reason.”
Bud knew she was worried about the future and money, and he wished he could promise her the moon and more.
“Don’t worry, Carolina. We’re going to be okay.”
September 21, 2008
On board the Miss Carolina
The family had survived, Bud thought as the boat beneath him rose and fell with the waves. They’d survived a lot of ups and downs over the years. They’d survive this accident, too. He’d promised Carolina he’d take care of her, and that was a promise he intended to keep.
Carolina’s parents had come through for them after Hugo. That’s what families did. His own family had always taken care of their own, too. He remembered back to when he was very young and sat in the big kitchen of his grandmother’s house. Grandma Ellen had had seven children and regularly cooked for fifteen to twenty people. To step into her kitchen was to enter a world of women cooking cornbread, fried chicken, turkey, pork ch
ops, and some kind of fresh fish brought in from the boat. And there was always a pot of hot coffee on the stove. Folks called it the house of milk and honey. At Grandma Ellen’s table, there was talk of everything from the price of shrimp and the condition of boats to the antics of their beloved children and grandchildren. The Lord’s name was never taken in vain at her table, nor was cussing permitted. Children were welcome but dared not be rude, lest a wooden spoon suddenly appear to slap their hands.
There were always working men ambling in from the docks or the shed in back where improvised repairs on engines and machinery were made by his grandfather, a kind of MacGyver of the docks. These were the men who worked for the Morrison family. Some did well; others didn’t earn enough to support themselves, much less a family. Those few would sleep in a bunkhouse above the shed during the season. If they didn’t make it in shrimping, they’d leave. When Bud was growing up, it had seemed everyone in the extended family worked for his grandfather, and later his father, at some time—men like Pee Dee just looking for a second chance. Every able-bodied Morrison fished—shrimp, oysters, clams, crabs. His grandparents had passed on the tradition of looking out for family and friends to his parents, and they’d passed it on to him.
The seasons flowed one into the next like the creek outside their home. White roe shrimp in the spring, brown shrimp in the summer, then the white shrimp that hatched in the spring came back again in the fall. Life was good. In his mind, Bud could hear the women’s voices from the shrimp house as they sang spirituals and headed shrimp.
He felt himself drifting off with the music. His grandparents, his mother, Bobby, they were all gone. Yet they seemed to be just beyond the clouds. He sensed they were waiting for him. There was so much love. He felt a white light of their love around him.
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Last Light over Carolina Page 15