The Eyes Have It

by Julie Allan

  Finally, Aunt Dorothy stood up and told the crowd that this was not to be a day of sadness, but one of celebration. George’s was the epitome of a life well-lived and free of pretense. She invited everyone back to the house for a Lowcountry boil and libations. Mrs. McGantry, now back in her pew shot Dorothy a look of disapproval. She believed in traditional tea sandwiches and light refreshments in the parish hall were more appropriate after a funeral gathering. She did, however, encouraged her fellow mourners to sing George’s favorite hymn, “Amazing Grace” with gusto. The congregation was happy to oblige, and Lizzie and her aunt followed the casket out of the church to the enthusiastic sound.

  After a short ritual at the gravesite, Lizzie and Dorothy returned to the house to greet their guests and celebrate the life of George William Long in a manner he would have greatly approved. Folks made themselves at home and pitched in to set out the food and drinks. Lizzie hugged hundreds of people, many whom she had not seen since her wedding. No one asked about Mark. Did they know ... or did they just not like him?

  It was a blessing to see so many rally around Aunt Dorothy. This was the sense of community that she had so desperately missed while she was away. She was glad that Aunt Dorothy had said she could stay as long as she needed. It would be good for both of them.

  Chapter Two

  Bang, bang, bang ... Lizzie woke up with a start. The hot Carolina sun was streaming through the salt glazed glass of her childhood bedroom. Lizzie cracked open one eye as she felt two noses snuffling her feet, Lucky’s tail thumping out good morning against the foot of the bed. Her eyes widened and she sat straight up as wavy black hair and a pair of startling but very familiar blue-green eyes peered into the second floor window. “What the heck!” Lizzie exclaimed as she leapt up indignantly and threw up the sash demanding an explanation. Bennett shot her a practiced “get a grip” expression and slowly eyed her from her bare feet up to the top of her bed-head hair. For a moment they stood there, staring each other down as the humid salty air stirred lazily around them. Lizzie could smell the pluff mud, it must be low tide, she thought.

  Suddenly Lizzie was self-conscious that she was standing there in nothing but an old t-shirt she had dug out of a drawer the night before, note to self, do laundry today she thought. Thank goodness the shirt was baggy and came down to her knees.

  “Isn’t that one of my old shirts?” asked Bennett, noting the large size and the logo for the Windjammer, a favorite place to hang-out on the Isle of Palms.

  “I don’t know, I found it at the bottom of a drawer,” Lizzie answered, blushing three shades of scarlet as she remembered it was one she had neglected to return to him ten years before when they had broken up. “It’s beside the point,” she continued, “this is a new low for you Bennett Wilson, just what do you think you’re doing, spying in my window?” Before Bennett could answer, Lizzie could hear Aunt Dorothy calling up from the yard.

  “Bennett dear, when you finish with the shutter, come on in the kitchen. There is a fresh pot of coffee and some biscuits ready to come out of the oven. Oh, and tell Miss Lizzie it is well past rise and shine time and I need to fill her in on the plans for the day.”

  “I believe you heard the lady, you best get yourself presentable and report downstairs,” Bennett said, thoroughly enjoying Lizzie’s discomfort.

  Avoiding meeting Bennett’s gaze Lizzie shut the window and quickly drew the curtains. For a moment she stood there seething with indignation, but as the dogs danced around her legs, anxious to get out to the yard, she pulled herself back into control. After splashing some cold water on her face and brushing her teeth, she quickly pulled on a pair of shorts and her favorite bridge run t-shirt. She brushed her long blond hair back in a ponytail and headed down the stairs greeted by the tantalizing aromas that were emanating from the kitchen. She let Lucky and Ella out the back door and turned to face Aunt Dorothy who was opening a fresh jar of her strawberry preserves.

  With a wistful look on her face, Aunt Dorothy set in to give Lizzie a “talking to.” She reminded Lizzie it had been a month since the funeral, since she had lost her job and her marriage had finally crumbled, perhaps it was time to give up the pity party, stop moping about and find a new path. After all, hadn’t she lost her own husband, did Lizzie see her moping? No, ma’am, she had not even missed her weekly shift volunteering at the library. Lizzie began to protest the idea she had been indulging in a pity party but snapped shut as the door opened and Lucky and Ella came bounding in, tails wagging and escorting Bennett into the kitchen.

  “Come sit Bennett, the biscuits just came out of the oven.” Aunt Dorothy smiled as Lizzie glared across the room at her.

  But Lizzie also came obediently to the table, taking care to sit the farthest from Bennett as possible. She suspected Aunt Dorothy in a loving but misguided way was trying to finagle a renewal of their adolescent romance. Lizzie wanted nothing of it; she was still smarting from the break with Mark, really not the losing of him but the idea that their marriage had failed for all to see. And Bennett of all people ... what could Aunt Dorothy be thinking, he didn’t even seem to be gainfully employed. Since she had been home she found herself running into him around town, and he was always in shorts, Guy Harvey t-shirts and flip flops like he had just gotten off a boat. Here he was, fixing shutters for Aunt Dorothy. He apparently did odd jobs to eke out a living while he spent the bulk of his time playing. As Lizzie sat sullenly spreading the silky preserves onto the flaky biscuit with a pool of melted butter beginning to escape over its edge, she had gathered from the conversation between Bennett and Aunt Dorothy this was not the first job he had done around there. Last spring he had apparently helped Uncle George replace rotting wood on the porches and he had been taking care of the yard for a good part of the last year. I wonder how much Dorothy is paying him, Lizzie wondered, note to self, ask and also tell her I will take on the yard, help to save a buck, she thought. With Uncle George gone Aunt Dorothy would need to economize.

  “Lizzie dear, where are your manners? Bennett just asked you a question and you ignored him.” Aunt Dorothy said with a rare air of disapproval.

  Lizzie snapped back to attention, “Um ... what did you say?” Bennett’s eye seemed to cloud with concern, or was that pity for the shambles her life was in?

  “I was asking are you staying long, or are you going to go back to Greenville?” Bennett repeated.

  Lizzie gave an involuntary shudder as Mark’s self-important smirk and beady soulless eyes flashed in her brain. “Oh, I don’t know, I want to go to the reading of the will and help Aunt Dorothy get settled,” She replied, deliberately vague.

  Dorothy smiled and reached over patting Lizzie’s hand. “Well dear, I wanted to make sure you didn’t make any plans for this afternoon. We need to be at the lawyer’s office at two today.”

  “No worries, no plans,” Lizzie flippantly answered. Bennett pushed back from the table. “Thank you Miz Long, your biscuits are heaven and your company divine,” he murmured as he gently took Aunt Dorothy’s hand and raised it to his lips.

  Lizzie rolled her eyes, but Aunt Dorothy clearly tickled, beamed at Bennett and replied, “Now Bennett, how many times have I told you to call me Aunt Dorothy. You are just like family after all,” and as she said it she shot Lizzie a look as if to say and you could have made that a reality child.

  Lizzie rolled her eyes again. “See you around Bennett; I’m sure you have other jobs to get to.”

  Bennett looked at Lizzie quizzically but simply replied, “See you around Lizzie.” He gave Lucky and Ella a quick pat and headed out the door.

  Aunt Dorothy turned to Lizzie, “You could be a little more gracious to Bennett, child. After all he has done a lot around here for both me and your Uncle George.”

  “Speaking of that, how much do you pay him for the work he does around here?”

  “Pay him? My goodness Lizzie, we don’t pay him. Bennett
has helped out around here out of the goodness of his heart. Did you not know how close he and Uncle George have been, why it’s like Bennett was his son-in-law! Honestly Lizzie I don’t understand how you became so judgmental and quick to jump to conclusions about other people, I know your Uncle George and I taught you better than that!” Aunt Dorothy chided.

  Lizzie cheeks burned. She seemed to be disappointing everyone in her life. Before Lizzie could respond, the phone rang and Aunt Dorothy was swept up in an animated conversation with her best friend and old college roommate Maggie. Maggie, who had lost her husband a few years before, she would be a good one to guide Aunt Dorothy through her grief. Lizzie carefully rinsed off the dishes and put away the preserves as she mused over the news that Bennett did things for her family out of the supposed goodness of his heart. So what did he do for a living? Was he seeing anyone? Lizzie blushed and chided herself for even wondering about Bennett. They had parted ways at eighteen, off to different colleges and different lives. Hadn’t she been confident in what her future would be? Lizzie as wife, mother, her own business utilizing her culinary passion ... while Bennett had been lacking direction and ambition. How had the decade that had passed shaped them? Lizzie didn’t know what had happened to Bennett, although she assumed he was still lacking direction. Unfortunately, she did know what had happened to her. She had been sucked into the charming but arrogant life of Mark Harris Hargrove the Third and been convinced her dreams were expendable. After all he had a five year plan, ambition, and even suggested she might be first lady of the state if he attained his political aspirations of which he had no doubt. Lizzie shuddered again, who had she become and where was the girl she had been? If she was honest she had to admit it was not surprising to find out that Bennett had continued a relationship with her family or that he had helped out on a regular basis. Bennett was always one to help from the time they were kids. Had he been a Boy Scout he would have epitomized the creed to serve others. Uncle George and Aunt Dorothy had always loved him and were crushed when Lizzie had broken things off. Bennett got along well with all kinds of people, young and old, well-off and the less fortunate. He was so different from Mark. Mark had been all about the “right people.” If you did not have something to advance him and his plan, then he would not waste his time cultivating a relationship.

  It made Lizzie wonder why he had picked her to marry in the first place. Her mind flashed to a moment just a few days after their honeymoon. They were packing up to head to Columbia for Law school and she had been surprised by Mark’s reaction when Uncle George had informed him, Lizzie’s inheritance from her parents had been spent on raising her and paying for her college education. Now that she was looking back she realized Mark was a bit angry. He had assumed she had a pile of life insurance money that would pay for his grand plan to become a future state senator or governor. Shortly after that he pushed her into corporate work, claiming her income was needed to fund their future. After all he was working hard at school for the same purpose. How could I have been so blind to his motivations, his character? What does that say about my character that I blindly followed him, took direction from him and even began to filter the world through his criteria? She mused.

  She called to Lucky and Ella to walk down to the dock with her. She was going to look for crabs, stare at the marsh grasses and the water beyond. She had worked herself up and the familiar sights, sounds and smells of the lowcountry marsh and the harbor beyond were a proven elixir to help her organize her thoughts. She sat on the end of the dock and watched the water and sun dance together. On the sandbar across the way a pair of pelicans perched. In the distance she could see a sailboat heading out into the harbor. These were all familiar sights and that grounded Lizzie. She felt the stress leach out of her pores with the sweat the humid air created. As she relaxed she allowed her mind to concede that Aunt Dorothy was right, she had been moping. It was time to face the reality of her life. She was ending her marriage. She was unemployed. These facts were complicated by the grief she was marinating in over Uncle George. The reappearance of Bennett in her life was confusing and the fact that feelings for him stirred easily was disconcerting. While she knew she had to deal with her own circumstances and figure out what her new path would be she also realized she was embarrassingly self-absorbed. In her defense she had spent the last few years on auto-pilot, not dwelling on her feelings or examining her life, if she had, she might have left Mark before he left her. She was making up for lost time, reflection was the only way she could figure out how she got here. Still, she needed to do a better job at balancing this self-discovery with the needs of Aunt Dorothy. Had she not told herself on the drive from Greenville to Mount Pleasant that Aunt Dorothy came first? Today would be another step in that process as the family lawyer, Thomas Lee, a life-long friend, whom Aunt Dorothy and Uncle George affectionately called Tommy. Mr. Lee would handle the official reading of the will and various other legal chores to tidy up the affairs of Uncle George.

  Lizzie sighed. She could stay on the dock all afternoon, but it was time to change into more appropriate attire and turn her attentions to the care of Aunt Dorothy. The dogs had long since lost interest in the goings-on on the dock and were laying in the shade waiting on Lizzie to let them back in so they could nap on the cool wood floor for the afternoon. Lizzie got Lucky and Ella some fresh water and then went to see if Aunt Dorothy would like her to fix a little lunch.

  Aunt Dorothy was grateful for the suggestion and sat at the kitchen table while Lizzie whipped up some BLT’s and got out some of the homemade pickled okra that always seemed to be on hand.

  “I’m sorry if I came down on you a little hard this morning child, I just want you to find your happiness.” Aunt Dorothy said while Lizzie turned the sizzling bacon in the pan. The aroma had brought the dogs in, ever hopeful a morsel might drop to the floor.

  “Yes, ma’am, I know and I have to admit I was wallowing. Uncle George would not have approved of that. Besides I promised I would be here for you, so do not worry about me, I will find my way. After all my Long upbringing won’t allow me to do anything but,” Lizzie replied as she slathered Duke’s mayonnaise on slices of bread.

  She quickly assembled the sandwiches with ripe sliced tomatoes, crisp lettuce and smoky bacon; it was like summer simplicity on a plate. After a delightful lunch where both women took care to keep the conversation light and jovial, they both changed into summer dresses and put on their pearls. It was time for the reading of the will.

  Chapter Three

  Lizzie and Aunt Dorothy sat side by side in the two leather wing-backed chairs in front of the polished mahogany desk of Mr. Thomas Lee, Attorney at Law and longtime family friend of the Longs. An intern had offered them each a bottled water and they each clutched the bottles as if they were the last of the water reserves on Earth. Aunt Dorothy uncharacteristically sat twisting the cap on and off. She was not usually nervous, but the finality of reading the will had unsettled her. Luckily she was very comfortable with Mr. Lee. In fact, Uncle George and Mr. Lee had been friends since their first day of grade school. So when Mr. Lee entered the room in his seersucker suit and his perky bow tie festooned with palmetto trees, it came to no one’s surprise when he bent down and tenderly kissed Aunt Dorothy’s cheek and gave Lizzie an affectionate pat on the head.

  “Sorry to keep you lovely ladies waiting. I was just finishing the additional project you called me about last week Dorothy.” He said as he rounded the corner of his desk and settled into his chair. “Now to the business at hand, as you know the bulk of George’s estate passes automatically to you, Dorothy, but he did have some special wishes he wanted to see carried out. First, he left a gift of one-hundred thousand dollars to the Park and Recreation department of the town of Mount Pleasant to fund uniforms and registration fees etc. for youth in our community who could otherwise not afford such fees; the fund will be managed and invested by my office so that it will be a gift that will continue
on for years to come.”

  “But,” interjected Lizzie in protest, “how can Aunt Dorothy afford to give up such a large amount of money?” “Oh, my dear, one-hundred thousand is just a drop in the bucket when we are talking about the accounts of your Uncle George and Aunt Dorothy,” laughed Mr. Lee.

  Lizzie sat stunned, her mind whirring through a flash of memories. Uncle George reusing bits of string and other things he saved and salvaged. Aunt Dorothy canning and preserving home grown or picked at Boone Farms fruits and vegetables. The comfortable but un-ostentatious life they had lived. How in the world could they have large bank accounts? When Lizzie thought back to her upbringing, she had not wanted for anything, but she was not spoiled by any means. She babysat in the neighborhood to supplement her wants and as a teenager had waitressed to help pay for a used car. At one time she had made homemade biscuits and preserves and sold them as boxed sets around the neighborhood to fund a new surfboard.

  Uncle George had always paid for things she needed and even some of the things she wanted, but they had not been materialistic and Lizzie in turn had not been either. In fact she had been downright uncomfortable with Mark’s obsession with driving the “right” car, wearing designer labels and being seen at the most popular restaurants and bars. Lizzie had become a bit of a clothes horse during her marriage. She enjoyed quality, classic clothing as most southern women did, but she had never gotten hung up on labels like he did. She had always assumed Uncle George and Aunt Dorothy had a modest income. She could not remember a time that they had even discussed money, other than being responsible with it and also the importance of giving to the church and other philanthropic causes.

  “Now to the church,” Mr. Lee was saying and he continued on naming a few more special donations he wanted named. “Now Dorothy, that leaves you with a remaining estate valued at over ten million dollars. I am assuming you want to continue to have it managed as it has been.”