As the Tide Comes In

by Cindy Woodsmall

  Tara moved into the kitchen and opened the fridge. She was probably starting dinner, hoping against hope that her brothers would arrive and she’d have plenty of food for them.

  “You there?” Hadley’s voice was gravelly, as if she’d been crying, but she seemed calmer.

  “Yeah.”

  “Gavin, I’m going to tell you what’s going on, but I don’t think you should tell Tara just yet. She needs to be seen by a doctor first. Would you be willing to take her to one while we travel there?”

  “Yeah, but the truth of the matter is that this wispy blonde would rather enter a tobacco-spittin’ contest than go anywhere with me.”

  “I’ll handle that part in a few minutes. Tell me about her symptoms.”

  Gavin explained what he’d seen and his evaluation.

  “All of that sounds good. I would still like a doctor to look at her before we dump reality on her, but it doesn’t sound like she needs to be taken to the ER. Do you have a physician who would be willing to see her? I’d really prefer her to be seen by someone you trust rather than by someone unknown.”

  “Yeah. I’ve been going to my doctor for two decades. I trust him, and I’m sure he’ll see her. He owes me a few favors.” One of the perks of living on a small island all his life is he knew everyone and they knew him.

  “Good. Did something happen that set her back?”

  “Not that I know of.” Gavin thought of the barbwire incident, but she was already struggling by that time, wasn’t she?

  “She’s closest to Elliott and me, and we’re both coming. I know our husbands will want to see her too, but it’ll take a little time to clear our work schedules. We may not be able to leave until midmorning or noon tomorrow, but she needs to be surrounded by family…or as close as it gets for her.”

  As close as it gets?

  “I’m not sure where we’ll stay. I know it’s the island’s busy season—”

  “I’ll find a place for you.” Gavin had so many questions, but now wasn’t the time. “Worst-case scenario you’ll sleep on air mattresses at my mom’s house.”

  “That’ll work just fine. Thank you.”

  “And her brothers?” He was sure Hadley was too upset and too focused on Tara’s well-being to realize she hadn’t clarified about the brothers. He hadn’t wanted to ask before she calmed a bit, but now, before the call ended, he needed to know.

  Hadley poured out the heart-wrenching details.

  Gavin was used to seeing horror stories play out in front of him, but his eyes moistened at hearing the trauma of Tara’s life. Even penniless, confused, and stubborn, she was obviously the kind who would give up her life as a teen to raise two half brothers.

  He cleared his throat. “She’s in good hands until you arrive.” If he had to lose a day or two of work until Tara could be safely passed off to loved ones, that was no problem with him. But the bank might take exception to his doing anything other than getting the money he owed them. “I’ll take the phone to Tara now, and you can talk to her.”

  “Thanks. I’ll make sure she’ll get in a car with you tomorrow to go to the doctor’s.”

  Gavin dreaded what tomorrow would bring.

  17

  The paper on the exam table crinkled with every move Tara made. Waves of nausea hit, and her head throbbed with the most peculiar feeling. The small room inside the doctor’s office smelled weird. Dizziness had caused Tara to lie back on the table several minutes ago, and now she stared at the ceiling tiles with their imperfections and small stains.

  “You doing okay?” Gavin was in a chair near her, apparently doing as Hadley asked and sticking to her like gum on a shoe. Did Hadley not trust her to hear what the doctor said to her? Did Hadley think she was that addled?

  “I’m fine. Thanks.” She tried to keep her voice gentle as she lied to him once again.

  Last night Hadley had apologized for being so far away, although she didn’t say where she was. She did say that she and Elliott and their families were on their way. Had they been on a trip together? She also said that, until they arrived, Tara needed to cooperate with Gavin. That made little sense, but Tara could add it to her long list of what simply didn’t add up of late.

  Gavin woke her at six thirty to get ready. Who needed an hour to be ready for the day? Certainly not someone who’d worked full-time while parenting two boys.

  Anyway, he’d interrupted her sleep because it was time to fulfill her promise to Hadley and go with him to the doctor’s office. They’d arrived first thing, seen the doctor, gone down the hall for blood work and a chest x-ray, and been sent elsewhere for a CT. Apparently the doctor ordered everything stat. What on earth had Gavin told him to get that kind of response?

  Now it was three in the afternoon, and they were waiting to see the doctor for test results. Tara was dizzy and nauseated, maybe because Gavin had taken control of her Vicodin. Apparently she’d been consuming a few too many each day. She hadn’t had one since last night at bedtime, and odd as it seemed, once in a while she caught a glimpse of something that made sense.

  “What time are Hadley and Elliott arriving?” She wanted them to help her find Sean and Darryl.

  “They got stuck in a long traffic delay, but they expect to be here by five.”

  There was something in how he said that info. “I’ve asked that already, haven’t I?”

  He offered a lopsided smile. “Not a problem.”

  There was a tap on the door, and Dr. Baudean walked in carrying a large manila envelope and a folder he was reading. He was a thin, gray-haired man.

  He looked up from the chart. “How are you feeling, Tara?”

  She sat up, her head spinning. “A little dizzy and nauseated.”

  “I’m sure.” He smiled and took a seat on the stool. “Your CT looks good. Very indicative that your head injury is continuing to heal, although memory issues may linger for months yet. But I think I may have found two sources adding to your exhaustion, dizziness, and confusion. You’ve been taking too many Vicodin pills, and I’ve already talked to Gavin about that. I won’t snatch the pills away, but the sooner you can substitute Advil for Vicodin, the better. It’ll help clear up your thinking. Your blood work indicated you had an infection. The x-ray confirmed you have pneumonia.”

  “But I’ve not had a cold or the flu or a cough.”

  “Sometimes being under anesthesia and the following days of bed rest can lead to pneumonia. One of the side effects of Vicodin is it suppresses coughs. And pneumonia causes confusion in a certain percentage of people. Some of my patients say it’s like having dementia. Yours is also compounded by the Vicodin and a serious head trauma.” He closed the patient file and tapped it on his knee. “Here’s the good news. A round of steroids and strong antibiotics should clear up any confusion that’s being caused by the infection. You’ll get a shot of both before leaving here to give you a boost, and then you’ll take two medications daily and breathing treatments for ten days. The rest of the cognitive issues from the brain injury should ease with time.”

  “Should?” That was a horrible thing to say to her.

  “Taking good care of yourself will help.” He smiled. “I have other patients waiting. Gavin will step out, and the nurse will be in shortly to give you the shots. You need to be seen again in two weeks.”

  Tara nodded, and within thirty minutes she was in the truck with Gavin on the way back to her house. She stared out the window, watching endless flat land or open waters pass by. When she was in the house, it was easy to forget there weren’t mountains around her because there were huge, sprawling trees in the yard.

  “Where are Sean and Darryl? I…I don’t understand.”

  “I know you don’t.” A faint, sad-looking smile crossed his lips. “Hadley and Elliott will be here later today.”

  He pulled into the driveway and turned off his tr
uck.

  Why had the roof guy taken her to the doctor? Even with Hadley and Elliott out of town, she had other friends. He was a stranger.

  She studied the house. “Are you the roof repairman?”

  He stared at the dashboard.

  “Hello?” Tara whispered.

  The young man looked at her, and she no longer saw a difficult, unskilled roofer.

  “No.” His voice was barely audible.

  She studied the home, once again taking in how different it looked. Maybe the man hadn’t made that many changes to it. Maybe…“Is this my house?”

  He hesitated before slowly shaking his head.

  Embarrassment burned as tears fell. “I feel caught in a dream world, and I can’t hold on to anything that makes sense of what’s happening.”

  He drew a slow breath. “I know.”

  That was it? That’s all he had to say to her?

  Something wasn’t right, and it was more than just her memory issues or the confusion associated with pneumonia.

  Her gut said that whatever was going on, it was deeply, unchangeably wrong.

  * * *

  Sunlight filtered through the front glass window of Blue Sails. The decorative Spanish moss hanging from the ceiling undulated in the air conditioner–produced breeze.

  Sitting in an antique chair at the table, Luella closed her pen and handed a customer a signed copy of her latest release, Lights in the Spanish Moss: Ghost Stories of St. Simons.

  The woman she had just met, Christy, flashed a smile. “I’m just so tickled to learn that you also write the Demere’s Culture Guides. I have copies of Atlanta, St. Augustine, and Savannah.”

  This new book had Luella’s real name, Luella Ward, on it. The other guides she had written were under the pen name of L. Demere. She’d liked how Demere looked on the cover, and she had liked the anonymity of only her closest friends knowing who the real author of her travel guides was. When she began them twenty years ago, she didn’t do book signings, so no one was the wiser that she was a woman.

  She returned the woman’s smile. “I’m glad you enjoy them! I love traveling, but St. Simons has my heart. I hope you enjoy this book too. Maybe come join my tour tomorrow night?”

  “That sounds fun.” The woman waved as she exited the store, carrying her new book.

  It was hard to stay focused on the day-to-day stuff, like the ghost tours, but what else could she do? The money she made today would go directly into the struggling shop. She wished she could do more for Julep and Gavin. It seemed all she’d done recently was bungle things with Chuck.

  Julep tapped Luella’s shoulder. “We need to have a Glynn Girls meeting. Can you take a break?” From the strain in her voice, something was bothering her.

  Luella nodded. “Sure.” She reached under the table and pulled out the cardboard Back Soon sign and set it on the center of the pile of books.

  She followed Julep into a large room behind the counter and register that served as the shop’s storage and meeting room. The rest of her friends were already there.

  Various unopened boxes were scattered throughout the room. Papers and packing material cluttered the floor. There were no decorations. A cold sense of irony struck Luella as she walked in. There was a stark difference between the immaculately staged front of the shop and this inner hideaway. Was that what she and her friends had become? A showy facade but nothing settled in their hearts?

  She shook off the thought and tried to focus.

  Julep looked around at each person standing in the room. “So, as we discussed earlier, Gavin went to the doctor with Tara. Her friends are still en route.” They had found out the identity of Mary, also known as the garden thief, that morning. Gavin had shared a news article with them about the accident in Sylva, North Carolina, where the young woman’s brothers died.

  Sue Beth put a hand on her chest. “Bless her heart. I’ve been praying for her all morning.”

  Julep crossed her arms. “Well, she needs more than our prayers. Gavin’s been ill as a hornet with me since the whole garden debacle, especially in light of what we learned about her. And with all he’s doing, I need him not to be mad at me.”

  Luella touched Julep’s elbow. “You’re worried about what Gavin thinks of you?” Shouldn’t she be worried about the young woman herself?

  Julep didn’t answer the question. “We all know she’s basically homeless for the time being. All she’s got are the clothes on her back, plus the paltry things we were able to grab here in town before the shops closed. She lost her phone and wallet and doesn’t have her suitcase. She seems to trust Gavin, and he’s doing his best to get her set up. But let’s be honest. The man lives on a twin mattress at Sapphira’s, has used the same generic soap for men since he was eighteen, and wears khaki shorts or a uniform almost every day. He’s not going to be able to help her feel human the way we girls can.”

  Dell tapped a finger on her dimpled chin. “I think helping Tara is a great idea. Let’s go to my niece’s boutique. Won’t take us ten minutes to get there. She gives excellent family discounts, and we could buy summer clothes that haven’t sold yet.”

  Sue Beth put a hand up. “Oooh, and one of my art students is a soap maker. She gave me a basket of homemade lotions and soaps that smell divine, and I have several that are unopened.”

  Julep nodded. “Good plan.”

  “Glad you like it.” Dell pulled her keys out of her purse. “And then we’ll go by the convenience store and get anything else we can think of that would make her feel more comfortable.”

  “But I also need to do something to let Gavin know I get it about the garden.”

  “As luck would have it, today is one of the farmers’ market days,” Luella said.

  “Oh, I like the way you think”—Julep shook a finger at her—“because we plucked ours clean two days ago. And Tara clearly likes vegetables. I’ll purchase a bunch of fresh fruit and vegetables that would fill any hankerin’.”

  Luella’s heart warmed at Julep’s generous plan, but was her intention in the right place? “I’ll go with you.”

  Julep angled her head in the direction of the storefront. “Don’t you need to man your signing booth?”

  “Let’s close up shop early. It’s slow anyway, and I can always sign here on other days. I’ll put a note on the door for customers.”

  Julep clapped her hands together. “Then we have a plan: Dell and Sue Beth will go to the boutique, and Luella and I will obtain some fresh nourishment.”

  Two hours later all four were on the porch of Sapphira’s house, their arms bulging with bags. Julep knocked.

  Gavin answered the door, and his eyes widened. “What on earth are you four doing? What’s all this?”

  “Use your eyes, Son. We’re bringing Tara a few gifts.”

  Gavin put a hand on the doorframe. “A few?”

  Julep leaned in toward Gavin. “I’m hoping”—she lowered her voice—“this will make it up to you for my actions in the garden.”

  Dell leaned her head forward next to Julep’s. “Can we speak with her—if she’ll see us?”

  Gavin looked over his shoulder. “Um, I suppose so.” He moved out of the way, and they squeezed through the door along with all their gifts.

  Tara, who was sitting on a barstool sipping a glass of water, had a look on her face that said to Luella she might want to bolt out the back door again, but she stayed where she was. A nebulizer breathing machine was on the counter beside her, and it appeared that she’d already had at least one treatment. Why would she need that?

  Gavin held a hand out. “Tara, meet the Glynn Girls. Ladies, this is Tara.”

  “We are so sorry about the garden incident. It was an awful idea. I don’t know what we were thinking.” Sue Beth was speaking loud and drawing each word out as if Tara were a small child or had an
impaired ability to understand English.

  “I forgive you.” Although Tara addressed the Glynn Girls directly, she had a far-off look in her eyes, as though she was preoccupied with other thoughts. Luella imagined she must feel a great deal of confusion. If it wouldn’t completely overwhelm her, Luella would’ve liked to give her a hug.

  Julep set her bags of produce on the kitchen counter attached to the bar where Tara sat. “We brought you a few items that might come in handy, as well as some fresh produce.”

  As Tara studied the produce, her brows furrowed.

  “Please accept it. Not for me, but for my son.” Julep nodded toward Gavin. “He had to clean you up after my harebrained trap idea, and I think it would mean a lot to him for you to feel better.”

  Tara looked at Gavin and back at Julep. “Um, okay.”

  Sue Beth set her three bags next to Tara’s stool. “Girls, where are our manners? We never properly introduced ourselves.”

  The next few minutes were spent with Sue Beth monopolizing the introductions, followed by Tara opening bag after bag of clothes and soaps, with an increasing amount of hesitancy.

  Should they have done this? Helping out someone in need was a good thing, but Julep’s intentions still felt misguided. And as usual, the rest of the Glynn Girls were going along with it.

  A car’s tires crunched the gravel-and-shell driveway.

  Tara stood. “Hadley.” Her voice was no more than a whisper.

  This must be the friend from North Carolina.

  Tara went to the front door and into the yard. Luella and the rest watched from the open door.

  A young, curly-haired woman, approximately Tara’s age, exited the passenger side of the car before the vehicle had even come to a complete stop. She ran across the yard and pulled Tara into her arms.

  18

  Tara fidgeted as she waited for the Glynn Girls and Gavin to meet Elliott and Hadley, plus their families. This necessary politeness was taking entirely too long.