As the Tide Comes In

by Cindy Woodsmall

  “What?” Jimmy cupped his hand to his ear.

  “Did your hand cramp up while you doodled until this pen ran out of ink?”

  “Now that you ask”—Jimmy slung his hand as if it hurt—“it is bothering me, and I don’t think I can work today.”

  The men broke into laughter as if they were at a live comedy show. Despite wanting to keep a poker face, Gavin slipped into a smile before regaining control. He pointed at them, refusing to look amused.

  But firefighters, EMTs, and paramedics needed to mash—to laugh and joke and become like brothers—because no one knew what they’d face during the next call. This Glynn County station was one of nine firehouses, and it averaged nearly four calls every twenty-four hours, seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year.

  Foolishness, merciless teasing, respect, trust, and love kept them sane and functional for the next call.

  “It’s not all that funny.”

  “I agree. It’s not.” Jimmy grinned. “But we’re laughing more about what will happen next. ’Cause the Glynn Girls will have a dozen bees in their bonnets when you’re late, especially if they learn it was due to a pen.” Jimmy used two fingers to imitate a person running. “Better run along, Sonny Boy, or the next call for help the department gets will be from you as you’re being flogged by your mamas.”

  Bryan held out a new pen. “I hear having four mamas is tough stuff.”

  “You have no idea.” Gavin took the pen and clipped it on his shirt before shoving the card against Bryan’s chest. “But I will get you for this.” He pointed at the men in the driveway. “All of you.”

  The men guffawed.

  “Yeah.” Gavin pulled his keys out of his shorts pocket. “It’s all fun and games until the genteel Southern women come after you.” He pointed at Jimmy and then swooped his hand across to include the others before he turned toward his truck.

  “True,” Jimmy said, “but it’ll be quite hard for you to convince them that I used all the ink in a pen, and if you can convince them of that, they aren’t going to believe something as small as a stack of paperwork or an empty pen caused you to be late.”

  Gavin chuckled. He’d lost this one. Somehow he needed to up his game.

  “Is that what the Glynn Girls are really like?” Bryan asked. “Your mom taught my Sunday school class the whole time I was growing up. Miss Julep seemed real nice. A little fussy, but she made us cookies.”

  “She is real nice, but when the four are banded together without Sunday school restrictions? Hoo boy.”

  The captain came out of the firehouse, spotted Gavin, and strode across the lot. “You’re still here?”

  The men broke into laughter again.

  “Things happen while you have that infernal vacuum cleaner running. Your son can fill you in since he’s part of the cause.”

  “You’re just joking about the Glynn Girls being mean, right?” Bryan’s eyes moved back and forth as he looked from his father to Gavin and back again.

  “Maybe.” Gavin wasn’t letting Bryan off the hook that easily. He got in his truck and turned the key, letting the air conditioner run.

  “Nope.” Captain Dan clapped his son on the shoulder. “You better watch out once Gavin tells them what held him up.” Captain pointed at Gavin. “His mamas—the Glynn Girls from Glynn County, Georgia—are sweet and salty, certain and muddled, gentle and fierce.”

  “Yeah, that’s it. Sunday school teacher and Mr. Hyde,” Gavin teased. He pushed the button that lowered his window, and he closed the door.

  Bryan held up the card. “I really do need this signed. The bad pen was their idea.”

  “Later, Son. Give us some space.” Captain nodded toward the firehouse. Bryan and the others slowly scattered, returning to their work. The captain knew Gavin was running late for an appointment, so if he wanted to talk anyway, Gavin would give him a few minutes. Worst-case scenario, his mamas and the lawyer would need to reschedule. But could the law office work them in later today or tomorrow? He hoped so.

  Captain put his hands on Gavin’s truck door near the open window. “I won’t keep you, but my wife and I happened to be on the marina yesterday with some friends, and being there got us to talking about your dad’s death and the stress it caused your family, financial and otherwise. She made me promise to prod you for some answers, and then she texted me while I was vacuuming, asking if I’d spoken to you privately yet. You know my Millie; she’s cared about you since you were a teenage junior fireman, and she wanted to check on you. It’s so hard to believe your dad’s been gone eighteen months.”

  Gavin nodded. “Sometimes it feels like yesterday, and other times it feels like I’ve been without him for a decade.”

  “That’s rough, Gavin.”

  “Yeah, but it’s also life. I’m fine.” The words felt funny coming out of his mouth. It wasn’t a lie. His words just held more hope and determination than reality. They would be fine if his and the Glynn Girls’ plans actually worked out.

  “The rebuilt part of the marina looks great.”

  “Yeah?” Gavin chuckled. “It’s only been a year since I helped finish the repairs.”

  “That’s me, a year late and a grand short.” Captain looked down, a lopsided smile on his face. “I was outside shooting off firecrackers with the grandkids that New Year’s night, and I saw your dad’s fireworks. Did I ever tell you that?”

  “I don’t think you did.” But there was so much to process during that time that Gavin had a hard time remembering who said they’d seen the grand display.

  Captain chuckled. “I know the accident was a tragedy, and I’m not making light of it, but your dad went out in a blaze of glory.”

  A smile tugged on Gavin’s lips. “He did that. No doubt.”

  It helped soothe his and his mom’s grief to know the accident spared his dad from being bedridden and dying of lung cancer. When he was diagnosed in November, the doctors had given him only months, and that wouldn’t have been the way Dad wanted to go. But if he’d known what his final “Hey, y’all watch this” act on this earth would do to his family, he wouldn’t have bought the fireworks in the first place.

  “And the lawsuit from the injured bystander?” Captain asked. “Is it still an issue?”

  Gavin shrugged. “We settled…more or less…” They’d had to take out a balloon loan.

  His mom hadn’t been anywhere near the marina that night, but as a co-owner of the boat—a boat without insurance—she was on the hook for damages to the marina and the personal injuries of a man who was standing nearby. The man’s injuries healed within a month, but because of Gavin’s dad’s negligence, the injured man had hired lawyers, and he intended to take Gavin’s mom to court. He would’ve easily won what he was suing for. But Gavin met with him and said that once a jury was involved, there was no guarantee that the person suing would win, and he’d have steep legal fees. Gavin convinced him that a bird in the hand was worth two in the bush. The man settled outside of court for a fourth of what the lawsuit asked for, but it was still a hefty amount.

  Soon after the incident Gavin sold his home in Brunswick, moved in with his mom, and put every dollar from the sale toward the debt. His mom mortgaged her house to the hilt and pulled all equity out of her business. Of course, they’d also used up every bit of his dad’s meager life insurance. The huge balloon payment for the loan they’d used to settle the lawsuit was due in July.

  But as far as the marina and the injured man were concerned, they’d paid the debt.

  “More or less?” Captain asked. “ ’Cause if you need money, we could do a chili cook-off at the station, and—”

  “I appreciate the offer, but no thanks.” Not only would that be completely inappropriate, but also it wouldn’t be a drop in the bucket of the money he needed. But he had a solid plan, and it would be all right.

  “
Your mom is still living in the house she and your dad built before you were born, right?”

  “Yeah.” Gavin tapped the gearshift. “This stuff we’re discussing is why I’m supposed to be at a meeting right now with my mamas and the lawyer.”

  “Oh.” His captain’s eyes grew wide. “That’s where you’re going. Go. We’ll talk later.”

  Gavin waved and drove out of the fire station parking lot and onto the main road. He glanced at the clock on the truck’s dashboard. He was now twenty-five minutes late. The upside of living on a tiny island is he never had far to go. The downside was that the tourist traffic in June was as thick as the air. Both would be worse next month.

  He didn’t like to talk about the accident or the financial issues it caused, especially to coworkers. People wavered between being sympathetic for the Burnsides’ loss and feeling angry because of the senselessness of it.

  Those things pulled at him like the swirling currents pulled at the sand on the island. He was an only child, and his mom had lost so much within a few months’ time. How could he not do everything in his power to save her home and to keep her business alive? He could fix everything, even if he had to do financial gymnastics to make that happen.

  If things went as planned, he would have all the money necessary to pay everything off without his mom losing her home or business. All he had to do was remove a historic home piece by piece, subdivide its plot of land, and sell both, even though none of it actually belonged to him.

  What could possibly go wrong?

  * * *

  Tara tried to move. Why was her body unbearably heavy? High-pitched beeps were echoing. Muffled voices droned on just outside Tara’s darkness.

  She struggled to pull free of her nothingness, free of what seemed like a deep sleep, but each time something dark and heavy fell over her. Pushed against her. Pulled her down. She rolled in it, black tar clinging to her heart. Its fumes were toxic and suffocating. How many times had she tried to wake, but this thing—this weight of a mountain—had taken up residence inside her, and from her feet to her knees seemed mired in thick mud. Her mind felt warped and damaged from the viciousness growling at her, threatening to devour her.

  What was happening? And what was that thing, that unfamiliar, God-forsaken thing?

  “Tara…” A deep, soothing voice called to her, and soon other voices joined in—young and old, male and female voices—calling her.

  The weight of the mire and darkness lifted. The heaviness of the earth’s pull and that of her own body released her. A small light on the horizon drifted toward her, growing larger, and as it did, the toxic fumes dissipated, and a lovely scent of flowers filled the air. The black tar seemed to glide off her skin. Was she dying?

  Wispy rays of white light gently touched her, and she felt a peace unlike anything she had ever experienced. Sean and Darryl came to mind, and the light seemed to want to permeate every thought with peace and hope and joy.

  An inkling of fear for them edged in. They’d lost so much already. She fell to her knees. God, am I dying?

  4

  Gavin pulled into the parking lot of the lawyer’s office, hopped out, and went inside.

  “There you are.” Sue Beth’s Southern drawl was clear, and her long platinum hair with pink streaks stood out among her three fifty-two-year-old peers. “We were gettin’ worried that you’d taken a wrong turn.”

  The women laughed as they approached him. He’d lived on the island his entire life, all seventeen square miles of it for twenty-eight years.

  He breathed a sigh of relief that the lawyer hadn’t called them into his office yet. Walter was probably running behind.

  His mom straightened the collar of his polo shirt. “Maybe I should’ve brought you a sport coat.”

  “The heat index is over ninety already today,” Luella said. “Are you hoping to render him unconscious or something?”

  “But he’d look good in a jacket.” Dell winked and held out her to-go cup of lemonade. “Take a sip. It’ll help.”

  He was thirsty, and she probably saw it written in the sweat across his forehead, but the straw had lipstick on it, so he shook his head.

  “For goodness’ sake, Dell.” Sue Beth sighed. “Julep doesn’t actually have a jacket for him to put on, and we’re in an air-conditioned room.”

  His mom scanned him from head to foot. “Seems to me if he’s running this late, he could’ve taken the time to put on dress pants. After all, part of why we’re here is so Gavin can imbue the lawyer with confidence in his savviness as a property business tycoon.”

  Gavin glanced at his shorts and running shoes. It was summertime on an island, for Pete’s sake. After returning from a fire call at seven thirty, he’d taken a shower and put on street clothes instead of his uniform, but he wouldn’t waste his breath defending himself. His mamas were wound tight about this meeting, and he’d never convince them that the way he was dressed wouldn’t matter one iota.

  Sue Beth dabbed gloss across her lips. “Imbue the lawyer?”

  “Fill. Instill. Saturate,” Dell said. “I think it’s a befitting word. We are here to convince the lawyer that Gavin should be allowed to begin the process of moving Sapphira’s house almost two months before it’s legally his.”

  “Ah, yesss”—Sue Beth returned the lip gloss to her purse—“that is what you’re here to do. So why didn’t you at least come in your fireman’s uniform instead of looking like you’re going to the beach?”

  There they were—all four women dressed in their Sunday finest while fawning over him and fussing at him—Sue Beth Manning, Dell Calhoun, Luella Ward, and his mom, Julep Burnside. There wasn’t enough real estate on St. Simons Island to contain their personalities, and yet he seemed to be stuck trying to appease each of them—his true mom and his adopted mamas. Why him? He could see Luella wanting to adopt him. She didn’t have children of her own. But Dell and Sue Beth did, and they hadn’t adopted each other’s children. Just him…Why him?

  “Stand back.” Gavin spread his arms and used his best authoritative voice as he did when necessary as an EMT. “Let the man have room to breathe.”

  The women chortled.

  “Isn’t he the cutest thing?” Sue Beth elongated the words while pinching his cheek. The scary part was she meant it, as if he were a five-year-old wearing a Halloween costume. “Once we get this legal stuff handled and Gavin digs his mama and us out of the financial hole, we need to set our sights on finding him a girl.”

  Gavin pointed at her. “Don’t even start.” He knew every local girl in the county, and very few had been friendly to him when he was overweight.

  “Don’t worry, sugar.” Dell grinned. “The girl doesn’t have to be from here. The internet can locate someone perfect.”

  That was Dell, the mind reader. But she’d tell anyone there wasn’t anything supernatural about it. She was simply skilled at picking up on body language that others didn’t notice.

  The other women gasped, turning a sharp eye to Dell.

  “Dell Calhoun,” Sue Beth said, “don’t put ideas in his head or promise things we will not do. We need him here. He’s the only one of my kids that doesn’t rush off ten seconds into a conversation, and he’s Julep’s only child, period. How would she—”

  “Mamas, please.” Gavin backed up. “Can we focus on why we’re here rather than picking me apart?”

  Luella pursed her lips. “Where’s the fun in that?”

  Gavin suppressed a chuckle, unwilling to encourage further harassment.

  “Julep,”—Luella tucked her salt-and-pepper curls behind one ear—“did you think to bring your lease for Blue Sails?”

  Sue Beth’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, Julep, you didn’t—”

  “Hush it.” His mom sighed. “Of course.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a folder marked “Blue Sails Casual Living.”r />
  “Excellent.” Luella’s expression didn’t change when his mom snapped at her and Sue Beth.

  “I also brought Sapphira’s will and a plat of the land.”

  Gavin wouldn’t mention it, but the lawyer already had all the estate information.

  His mom jerked the file open. Her movements used to be gentle and kind, but she’d been defensive and edgy since losing his dad. She looked up, catching Gavin’s eye. A gentle smile lifted her lips as her eyes misted. “Look, kiddo.” She pulled out a few pictures. “You and Sapphira when you were about five.”

  Gavin took the one photo she held out. He and Saffy were walking toward Gould’s Inlet hand in hand. He was looking up at her, and she was looking at him. His mom passed him the other photos. “Good pictures, Mom. I remember this.” He turned the one of Saffy and him making ice cream toward his mamas.

  “It was your birthday.” Mom smiled. “She always loved coming up with fun things for you two to do together.”

  “I remember.” Gavin chuckled. “The best Saffy ever.” When he was in high school, he’d begun calling her Sapphira, so he didn’t usually think of her as Saffy anymore.

  Dell traced a photo with her finger. “She was a good friend to all of us girls, despite being thirty years older.”

  “Friend, mentor, entrepreneur, and art teacher extraordinaire,” Luella said. “But let’s not get too mushy here. We’ve respected her wishes concerning her house even after the hurricane hit. It’s been nearly two years since she died, and if Sapphira had an inkling Gavin needed the house to settle the debts Mitch left on Julep, she’d give it to him even if she were still alive.”

  His mom smiled at him, nodding. “I think so too…with all my heart.”

  Gavin passed the picture back to his mom. He hoped so.

  Dell leaned in. “Are you okay with starting now?”