Secrets of Sandhill Island

by Peggy Chambers

  Chapter 9

  Wrapped in a towel, Meg went through her closet again looking for something to wear to the city. Most of her clothes were sundresses and jeans—things to wear in the garden. But, today was different. She scrubbed and shaved in the tub that morning, trying to make her tanned skin look presentable. The lotion in the bathroom was cheap and did little to alleviate the dried out body she seldom noticed.

  There in the back of the closet was the yellow linen sheath still hanging in the dry cleaner’s bag, unworn since the day she moved in. She had no idea if sheaths were still in style, but it had matching flats, and it would be cool and comfortable. In the back of the bottom drawer of her dresser was the box with the “nice underwear,” also unworn for years. Expensive silk panties were an extravagance she no longer needed, until today.

  She looked in the mirror at the old woman she had become; splotchy, wrinkled skin, stringy hair beginning to gray, and she sighed. You could run away from your past, but you couldn’t run away from your age. What would Max and the others think of her? Would they giggle behind her back or just feel sorry for her? She didn’t need their sympathy. She had made her choices happily and lived her life these last few years for herself. If she wanted to atone for the sins of her family by giving their money to people and things that needed it, that was her business. She didn’t need the money herself. She saw to it that her son was taken care of and the rest could be given away. So why now was she feeling ashamed of what she had become?

  She would not endure their pity or their questions. She would hold her head up high and be the good mother she had always been. She would do what she must for her son and his happiness. He was getting married and she would present herself to the bride in the best manner she knew. She would do it for him, but not for the others that wanted to make fun of her choices in life.

  Slipping the yellow dress over her head and zipping it, she realized it was looser than the last time it was worn. She had probably lost weight working in the garden. She sat at the vanity and brushed her stringy blond hair away from her face. Opening the jewelry box, she found the silver clip that Mariam had given her when she was young. She pulled her hair up in a twist, clipping it high on her head, then rubbed a little lip gloss on her wrinkled lips. There, she looked presentable. She turned and looked at herself from the back. Almost.

  Reaching for the scarf and purse that matched the dress, she walked to the back door. There was knocking. No one ever knocked on her door and she froze in place. Thinking of the man with the hat over his eyes on the dock, she peeked around the corner where she could see. Alex stood with his back to her looking out into the garden. She let her breath out slowly—she was being silly thinking of Fitzgerald, it was just Alex.

  She was unsure at first about having to explain her outfit—she was obviously leaving the house—but, knew he would understand. After all, she could make a day trip if she wanted, couldn’t she?

  “Alex,” she said, opening the door. “How nice to see you.”

  He stared at Meg in her yellow dress, then slowly spoke. “You look lovely, Meg. Going somewhere?”

  “Yes, to the mainland to visit my son. If you want to paint today, please make yourself at home. There’s a pitcher of tea in the refrigerator. I have to go and meet the ferry.” She eased out the door.

  “Well, let me run get the van and you won’t have to walk all that way.”

  “All that way? This whole island isn’t a mile wide, how far could it be?” She laughed.

  “Well, at least let me walk you. I’ve something I wanted to discuss with you anyway. Would that be okay? I mean I won’t slow you down.” He set down the easel and paints next to the broken down back steps.

  “Okay, if you would like. I’d enjoy the company.”

  “I want to say again how lovely you look.”

  “Thank you Alex.”

  “And I’m not trying to pry, but you seem all dressed up for something special.”

  “Jon announced the other night that he is to be married and wants me to meet his fiancée. We’re having dinner tonight, but first I’m going to get my hair done. It’s been a while.”

  “Well you can’t walk around alone in Corpus Christi—I’ll go get the van and drive you.”

  “He is sending someone to pick me up.” She almost said ‘sending the car to pick me up,’ but ‘sending someone to pick me up’ sounded less stuffy.

  “Oh, okay, I just didn’t want you stranded, I mean...”

  “Alex, I’ve been to Corpus Christi before and know my way around. I’ll be fine. Now what did you want to talk to me about?”

  “Oh, well I was distracted by how beautiful you look today.”

  Meg smiled.

  “But, I wondered if it was okay if I picked a few veggies today? I won’t take many and I’d be happy to pay for them. I just need a few.”

  “Of course, take what you need. And you can pay me by watering tonight, if you don’t mind. I don’t know when I’ll be home. The soaker hoses are hooked up, just turn on the faucet for about an hour and then back off—I mean after you have finished your painting of course. I don’t want you to get anything wet.”

  “Of course, I’d be happy to. But, if you know what time you will be back, I could meet you at the ferry.”

  “I really don’t know. I may spend the night with my son so it would be a great help to me if you would do the watering. Then I won’t have to worry.”

  The ferry maneuvered toward the dock, easily slipping into position. The tug boat pilot made the trip from the island to the mainland and back again four times a day except holidays. It was like threading a needle, the way he negotiated the waves and the dock. And he never missed. After the cars drove off and the few going back pulled into position, the pedestrians walked across the plank and found a seat. Meg sat at the back as far away from the spray as she could get so to not get her linen dress wet. No one looked at her strangely. They probably thought she was a tourist returning from a visit, not the crazy veggie lady from the island.

  The long black limo shined in the sun at the ferry dock. Greg stood beside the back door ready to open it the moment she arrived. He looked a little older than the last time she saw him, but still possessed the same rugged good looks in his uniform. How he managed to always look cool in the suit standing in the sun, she would never understand.

  “Ms. Stanford, it has been too long.” He smiled and opened the door for her. The refrigerated air puffed out and engulfed her.

  “Greg, handsome as ever, it is always a pleasure. How are the wife and kids?”

  “Wife is fine and the kids are growing like weeds. The oldest starts college in the fall.”

  “Oh, that can’t be! I remember that he used to love to ride up front with you when he was just a little tyke! College!”

  “And his sister will right behind him in a couple of years.”

  The drive through town looked much the same as the last time she was here. She watched the ships leaving the harbor and the traffic on the freeways. She was glad she didn’t have to live here every day.

  At the curb, Greg opened the door to the spa for her. The smells brought home thoughts and feelings she had long forgotten. Max stood by the door in white linen pants and a silk shirt with a geometric print. He looked right past her at Greg and then back to Meg again, startled.

  “Ms. Stanford! How nice to see you!” He had a nasally, high-pitched voice, the one he used to feign surprise. “Honey, how long has it been?” He took her purse and led her to the back. “Jon says to give you the works, and that is exactly what we’re gonna do. Star is in place for your body scrub and massage, then Matilda will make your toes and fingers sparkle, while Annie gives you a facial you won’t soon forget! We’ll finish it off with a new do for your hair—honey what have you done to your hair, that clip has just got to go!” he said, loosening her hair around her shoulders.

  “Let me have the clip, it’s an heirloom...”

  “I’ll just put
it in your purse.” He looked down his nose at Mariam’s gift. “But first, let me get you a mimosa. Claire makes the most wonderful mimosas. You’re just going to love it!”

  Meg soon found herself seated in the thick terrycloth robe, sipping a mimosa. And Max was right about one thing, Claire could make a mimosa to die for.

  Scrubbed, rubbed and oiled, Meg emerged from the spa in her robe again and was led out to the salon. Claire stood ready with a bottle of water and another mimosa. Evidently, her only job was to get the client drunk. And it was working. Meg couldn’t remember when she felt so deliciously relaxed and pampered. Everything was done for her. A polish in a deep shade of rose was chosen for her nails—she might have chosen a pale pink—and then she found out why.

  “Girl, you are gonna’ love what Claire did while you were being kneaded and scrubbed.” Max turned her chair around so she could see.

  The lovely Claire had replaced her beverage tray with hangers holding two outfits that just happened to be in Meg’s size.

  “They came from your favorite little boutique. And by the way, they said you need to come see them more often.”

  The first hanger held a pale green Capri set in silk with just a touch of stretch. The buttons on the jacket that doubled as a blouse were a deep pink that almost matched her nail polish. In the bag with them was a beautiful pair of sandals in the same green and pink colors to show off the new pedicure.

  But, on the second hanger was a gorgeous iridescent chiffon dress that looked pink and coral at the same time depending upon the light. The sleeveless dress had a silver belt at the lightly gathered waist and a v-neckline. The sling-back pumps were in a bone color with a peep toe so you could see a splash of color from her toes. A deep rose bag matched both outfits.

  “Jon said to make his mother look spectacular and you know that we always do what we are told. Well, almost always!” Max winked as he chuckled. “So, what do you think? The dress for dinner tonight?”

  “Max, you are amazing! I haven’t seen anything this pretty in—well, maybe never.” Meg reached for the chiffon.

  “Oh no you don’t! That manicure isn’t dry yet. Keep the fingers still. We’ll do the work! And speaking of work, what are we going to do with this mop of hair you’ve been growing since I don’t know when? I’m thinking maybe some highlights around the face and then a cut that doesn’t scream 1970. Maybe some layers to give it a kick. You just leave everything to me.” He turned her around in the chair to face the mirror.

  “Okay, but don’t go overboard, Max. I still want to look like me.”

  “You’ll look like you, honey, only better—at least ten years younger. By the way girl, where HAVE you been?”

  Max chattered on into the afternoon as he colored and cut Meg’s hair. He talked about his business, and everyone else’s. Meg told him she lived on the island now, but didn’t mention that she was a recluse living off the proceeds of a garden in her backyard. The less he knew, the better.

  When her hair was dry, Annie applied Meg’s makeup. She reminded her not to get it too thick. Meg wanted to still look like herself. Just a touch of coral lipstick set it off beautifully.

  Max still curled and uncurled her now chin-length hair, making it straight and then curly until he finally found just the right combination, then surrounded her with a fog of hairspray.

  Meg hardly recognized herself in the mirror—but Max was right, she looked ten years younger. She was ushered into the dressing room where her new clothes hung, and with her nails dry was left to at least dress herself.

  “I couldn’t believe it was her at first!” The voice that was probably Claire’s spoke outside the dressing room. “She looked so old!”

  “I heard she was a recluse these days,” Max said. “With all that money, why would she go into hiding unless she was trying to hide something? I mean if the money was mine, I’d party, girl!”

  “I was told that when she had Jon her family was really upset. Thirty years ago that was a big deal. They never did find the boyfriend’s body. Rumor was that her family had him killed. But really, how old is she? She looks a hundred with that sun damaged skin!”

  “I know. Did you see that hair? I mean a girl needs a little primping now and then, even a recluse! All our hard work will probably just go out the window as soon as she gets home. I don’t understand, girl.”

  Meg listened to the conversation through the paper-thin walls, her face burning. This was just what she was afraid of when she left home. Why did she agree to this? She was better off at her beach house. The relaxed feeling she had was shattered. She hadn’t felt like this since the last time she was in Corpus Christi. But, she had two choices. She could sit here and listen to this or she could get up and confront the people talking about her. In her new Capri outfit with the yellow dress in a bag, she reached for the door with her deep pink fingertips and walked out.

  “Don’t you look pretty!” Max stared at her outfit up and down.

  “Thank you Max.” Meg held her head high. “Thank you for all you’ve done. But, you know what? I looked pretty when I walked in here. A person’s worth is not only skin deep you know.”

  “Of course! I didn’t mean that.”

  “I don’t appreciate you talking behind my back. Did you think I couldn’t hear you? That was shallow of you. The way I choose to spend my life and the reasons why are my own, not yours.” Max and his employee stood wide-eyed not knowing what to say.

  “Is my ride here? Please get my bags.” Meg looked from Max back to Claire.

  “I think so Ms. Stanford,” Max said quietly. “And I’m so sorry that you heard that. I meant no harm and shouldn’t have said anything. We just love you that’s all, and want the best for you. Please forgive us.” He walked her to the front door where Greg was standing. Max handed Greg the clothes.

  “Hon, do us both a favor and use this, and come back soon.” Max gave Meg a large and expensive tube of sunscreen and a peck on the cheek.

  But Meg wondered if she would ever go back.

  Chapter 10

  Meg arrived at the restaurant and gave her name to the maître’d. Jon sat in the corner of the dim room; a hurricane lamp on his table kept the darkness at bay. He sat close to a woman, his blond hair in deep contrast to her dark features. The stunning young woman’s long black hair shone in the candlelight as she smiled at her companion. They seemed comfortable together. Meg was certain this was not a first date.

  “My two favorite women at the same table.” Jon pulled the chair out for his mother as she walked up, then leaned across to gesture to the woman still sitting.

  “Mom, I want you to meet my fiancée, Victoria Chung. My mother, Meg Stanford.”

  Victoria stood and grasped Meg’s hand, her almond eyes sparkling. “So pleased to meet you Meg. Jon talks about his mother all the time. And what a lovely dress.”

  “Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet the woman who makes my son so happy.” Meg looked the slender woman over. She wore a simple cream colored sheath with black pearls at the neckline. Obviously sheaths were still in style.

  Jon filled his mother’s wine glass and ordered another bottle. The couple had been here a while and almost drained the first.

  “I took the liberty of ordering for you,” Jon said. “Swordfish and steamed vegetables and be sure to save room for dessert. The cheesecake is wonderful.”

  The conversation was pleasant and Meg felt comfortable with her new daughter-in-law to be when the food arrived. Victoria was from a shipping family in the Corpus Christi area. Meg was certain she had heard her father speak of the Chung family before but she wasn’t sure why.

  Jon was right about the cheesecake—and the wine. He was wonderful at choosing dinner, and it was certain he knew his way around Corpus Christi society; a thing that Meg never quite got the hang of. The conversation light with the wine flowing, Meg began to yawn after the second glass and Victoria took the cue.

  “I’m sorry to have to break up this party, but I r
eally have to go. I have an early appointment.” Victoria laid her napkin aside and rose.

  “I am so glad to meet you,” Meg said as she too stood. “I hope that we can spend more time together and get better acquainted. I would love to meet your family sometime also.”

  “I’m sure they look forward to meeting you too.” Victoria kissed Jon and walked toward the exit.

  “Well, it’s late and you’ve missed the last ferry. You can spend the night with me and I’ll have Greg take you to the ferry in the morning.” Jon signed the credit card receipt and took Meg’s arm. They left the restaurant together.

  In Jon’s apartment overlooking the Corpus Christi skyline, he gestured to the couch for her to sit. Spread on the coffee table were court documents. She tried not to look, they were probably confidential. After all, Jon lived alone and didn’t have to worry about someone reading his work.

  But, the name Alexander C. Wallace jumped out from the heading on the pleading. Alex Wallace, her new friend in town.

  “Jon, what is this? Have you been checking up on Alex?”

  “Your new beau has a record, Mom.” Jon picked up the papers and handed them to her.

  “Alex is a friend, not a beau, and why did you look him up?”

  “Because you’re my mother and I want to look after you. The charge is sexual misconduct with a student. Not a nice thing for a professor, do you think?”

  Meg picked up the paperwork and looked it over. “She wasn’t under-age,” she said after reading the highlights.

  “No, but there are rules about teachers and students. The documents were sealed by her father so they wouldn’t be public knowledge. I’m sure the family didn’t want the embarrassment of the case hanging over their heads.”