Lessons of a Lowcountry Summer

by Rochelle Alers

  “Yeah, I’d rather be a punk than have Theo in my face.”

  “Our big brother has gone soft,” Christian stated with a newfound bravado. “All he’s interested in is finishing his scripts.”

  “Let him finish the scripts before we push a woman in his face,” Brandon argued softly.

  “Chris, I’m waiting,” Noelle whined.

  They walked out of the house and stopped. The Lexus was missing. That meant Theo had taken it.

  Christian stared at his sister. “What do you want to do?”

  “Do you want to walk?”

  “How far?”

  “Not too far. Let’s ask Brandon if he wants to come with us.”

  Puffing out his cheeks, Christian blew out his breath. “Okay.”

  Hope walked into the McKinnon Island post office. Her eyes narrowed behind the lenses of her sunglasses when she spied the tall figure of Theo at the counter. He was mailing an overnight package.

  Charles completed Theo’s transaction, then looked up. “Hey, Hope.”

  Theo turned and stared at Hope standing behind him. He flashed a dazzling smile. “Good afternoon.”

  Nodding to Theo, she said, “Good afternoon to you, too.” She took the bundle of letters and magazines Charles placed on the counter. “Thanks.”

  Charles winked at Hope. “See you next week.” She made it a habit to pick up her mail every Wednesday.

  Theo fell into step with her as she walked out of the post office. “How have you been?”

  Hope gave him a sidelong glance. “Wonderful. How about yourself?”

  “Relieved. I just mailed off the pilot script.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. How’s your writing project?”

  “Good. I’ve begun the first chapter.”

  “How many chapters have you projected?”

  “Twelve.”

  He whistled softly. “That’s a lot.”

  They moved outdoors under a porch. “How’s your family?”

  “Thankfully, everyone’s well. They’ve been asking about you.”

  “Really?”

  Theo angled his head. “Really. In fact, Chris, Brandon and Noelle have decided to get into the matchmaking business. They think I’m old, write too much, and because I don’t have any fun, they believe we should ‘hook up.’ ”

  “You’re not old,” she said, deciding to ignore his reference to their “hooking up.”

  “Tell that to teenagers. To them anyone over thirty is old. And once you hit forty, then you’re ready for an assisted living facility.” Reaching out, Theo caught Hope’s arm. “I’d be honored if you would have dinner with me tomorrow evening.”

  Her body stiffened in shock. “Are you asking me out to refute your siblings’ assessment that you’re an old workaholic?” Much to her surprise, he threw back his head and laughed.

  “No. I’m asking you out because I enjoy your company.”

  “I enjoy talking to you, too. But did you tell them you were going to ask me out on a date?”

  “No.” He gave her a tender smile.

  She returned his smile. “Do you realize how lucky you are, Theo? You have family who love you. They have one another, yet they’re concerned because they don’t want you to grow old alone.”

  “What they don’t realize is that I’m alone by choice.”

  “Teenagers don’t want to understand that concept. At their age they are the quintessential party animals.”

  “You’re right. But you didn’t answer my question. Will you have dinner with me?”

  Going out with Theo signaled a beginning, a step into the dating scene. “Yes, Theo. I’ll go out to dinner with you.”

  Behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, Theo let his gaze travel slowly over her. “If it’s all right with you, I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”

  She nodded. “Where are we dining?”

  “I’ll make reservations at a restaurant in Savannah.”

  “I’ll be ready.” She pulled her arm from his loose grip, smiling. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow,” he repeated, watching her as she walked to her car.

  Hope parked her car and reached for the stack of mail on the passenger seat. As soon as she stepped out, she saw the Anderson children standing on her porch. The first thing that came to mind was that something had happened to Theo, but she dismissed it because she’d just left him at the post office.

  She smiled slowly as she mounted the stairs. “Good afternoon.”

  Christian moved forward. “Good afternoon, Miss Hope. We’re here because Miss Helen would like you to come to dinner tomorrow.”

  “That is, if you don’t have other plans,” Noelle added quickly.

  Hope noticed they’d said Miss Helen and not Theo. “I’m sorry, but I do have something planned for tomorrow.”

  Head lowered, Brandon asked, “How about tonight?”

  Noelle walked over and stood next to Christian. “Please, Miss Hope.”

  She stared at the three teens, trying not to laugh. There was desperation in Noelle’s voice, and Brandon was hard-pressed to meet her gaze. “Does Theo know I’m invited for dinner?”

  Sighing, Christian stared out over her head. “We may as well tell you.”

  “Tell me what?”

  He looked sheepish. “We’re trying to get you and our brother together.”

  Hope’s lips twitched in amusement. “Does he know this?” All three nodded. “Why do you think Theo needs your help?”

  Noelle’s eyes were misty. “All he does is write. And I know he likes you, because he told me he did.”

  “He’s getting old and he’s going to need someone to take care of him.” It was Christian’s turn to offer his rationale.

  She wanted to tell them that Theo wasn’t old. And even when he did get old he still would not have a problem attracting women. The Anderson children inviting her to dinner without Theo’s knowledge validated his claim that his brothers and sister did have boundary issues.

  “How do you think Theo would react if he knew you guys were here hatching a plot to set him up with me?”

  Brandon stared at his brother, then his sister. “I’m certain he wouldn’t like it.”

  Hope decided it was better not to tell them that she and Theo had plans to see each other the following evening. “I won’t tell if you won’t. But, on the other hand, if your brother likes me, then I’m certain he will ask me out.”

  Noelle gave her a skeptical look. “Are you sure?”

  Hope smiled at her. “Very sure.”

  “My brother is really cool.”

  “I’m sure he is.”

  “Does that mean you like him?”

  “Yes, I like him.” Christian and Brandon, grinning from ear to ear, exchanged high fives.

  “Does that mean you’re coming for dinner, Miss Hope?”

  “Not tonight, Noelle.”

  “When?”

  Hope tugged gently on the girl’s braided hair. “Perhaps we can all get together Sunday afternoon. If it doesn’t rain, then I’ll cook outdoors.”

  Her answer seemed to satisfy the trio. She stood on the porch watching them as they made their way down to the beach. Within minutes they became smaller and smaller until they disappeared.

  She did not envy Theo. Not only were his charges willful but they were also determined to get him a girlfriend. And she knew they would be formidable opponents if they decided a woman wasn’t worthy of their brother.

  Well, she wasn’t too worried about the Anderson siblings, because her association with Theo would not extend beyond the summer. She had come to McKinnon to write and heal, not become involved with a man.

  Twenty

  My soul is full of longing for the secret of the sea, and the heart of the great ocean sends a thrilling pulse through me.

  —Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  Hope stepped out onto the porch. Turning to her right, she saw Theo sitting on the rocker, h
ands dangling over the curved arms. There was something about the way the diffused light shadowed his face that reminded her of a scene from a classic Orson Welles film. The sound of the screen door hitting the frame caught his attention and brought him to his feet.

  She smiled. “How long have you been waiting?”

  Theo slipped his hands into the pockets of his black linen slacks. He hadn’t realized it before, but he loved the sound of Hope’s voice. It was low, husky, and sensual.

  “I got here a little after six.”

  “Why didn’t you ring the bell?”

  “I didn’t want to rush you. Sitting here and staring at the ocean is wonderful for the soul. I believe Longfellow said it best: ‘My soul is full of longing for the secret of the sea, and the heart of the great ocean sends a thrilling pulse through me.’ ”

  Smiling, Hope closed the distance between them. “You and my sister would get along famously. She loves poetry.”

  Theo removed his hands from his pockets and began snapping his fingers. “I used to spend so many hours hanging out in Bay Area coffeehouses listening to poetry readings that I finally got a job in one.”

  “There once was a little coffeehouse along Factor’s Walk that hosted poetry readings.”

  “What happened to it?”

  “It closed down, then reopened as a club for a predominantly college crowd. The weekend entertainment usually features up-and-coming bands.”

  Theo shook his head. “Too loud.”

  She gave him a saucy look. “I’ve heard it said that ‘if it’s too loud, then you’re too old.’ ”

  He glared at her under lowered lids. “You got old jokes, too.”

  “No. I’m probably right behind you.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Thirty-eight.”

  Hope shivered despite the summer heat, her gaze moving slowly over Theo’s clean-shaven profile. They shared a smile as he led her to his vehicle. Hiking up the hem of her dress, she stepped up into the SUV after he opened the door for her. She was seated and belted-in when he slipped behind the wheel beside her.

  Theo started up the Lexus and drove toward the ferry landing for the 6:55 sailing.

  Theo slipped into his suit jacket after he’d maneuvered into the parking lot at Elizabeth and Thirty-seventh. The restaurant was housed in a bleached-beige Palladian–style mansion. He waited for the maitre d’ to seat Hope before he sat opposite her.

  “I’ve heard the food is excellent.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “Have you eaten here before?”

  “No. But my agent recommends it highly. Jeff may exaggerate about a lot of things, but I have to give him credit when it comes to his dining recommendations. So far, he’s never been wrong.”

  Staring at Theo through lowered lids, Hope said, “I’m certain he’s pleased having you as his client.”

  “We are a good team.” His statement lacked modesty.

  “How long has he represented you?”

  “He’s my first and only agent.”

  The sommelier handed Theo the wine list, and he and Hope selected a blush to complement entrées of pecan-crusted chicken and cinnamon-spiced shrimp. They raised their glasses in a toast.

  Hope touched her glass to Theo’s. “To McKinnon Island.”

  “McKinnon Island,” he repeated.

  She took a sip of the chilled wine. It was excellent. She put down the glass. “You should’ve won an Oscar for your last script.”

  Theo lifted a broad shoulder under his jacket. “It doesn’t matter much whether I do or don’t win. Just being nominated is reward enough.”

  “How many scripts do you write a year?”

  “It varies.” He took another sip of wine. “I’ve done as many as six. One year I completed only one.”

  “All originals?”

  “No. Some of them are adapted from novels or short stories. The two Academy Award nominations were original screenplays.”

  “Can you tell me about your television project?”

  Theo reached across the space of the table and held her hands. “Can I trust you not to disclose what I’m going to tell you?”

  She leaned forward. “Yes.”

  The word slipped off her lips just as a bright flash of light blinded her. She blinked, attempting to clear her vision. Theo had released her fingers and was on his feet. She glimpsed the back of a short man as he scurried away.

  Hope glanced up to find Theo frowning down at her. “Who was that?” she asked.

  He shook his head and sat down. “I don’t know.”

  Their waiter came over to the table. “I’m sorry, Mr. Howell, Miss.”

  Theo waved him away. “It’s all right.” The man backed away from the table. Theo directed his attention to Hope, noting her expression. She wasn’t pleased. “Did being photographed upset you?”

  She closed her eyes for several seconds. “I’m more annoyed than upset. People usually ask permission before they take my picture.” She had made it a practice to keep her private life private. No one knew she had been dating Kendall except family members and close friends.

  “Do you give consent?”

  Sighing, she nodded. “Usually I do.”

  “How has your life changed since you’ve become a celebrity?”

  “I don’t see myself as a celebrity.”

  “How do you see yourself?”

  “More as a public figure.” She gave Theo a long, penetrating stare. “You’re the celebrity.”

  He lowered his head and smiled, the gesture reminding her of Brandon. “No, I’m not. The difference between you and I is where we live. The paparazzi are as thick in L.A. as a swarm of hornets. They make their name and money from taking photographs of the suspecting and unsuspecting. At first it bothered me, then I learned to ignore them, because the tabloids are going to print what they want. Smut and gossip sell.”

  “You’re saying that you don’t care if someone photographs you?”

  “It’s not that I don’t care. I’ve chosen a career that at times is high profile, and I’ve learned to accept all of the advantages and disadvantages that go along with it. As long as they don’t invade my privacy or slander me, I could care less.”

  “Two years ago there were photos of you in People, Entertainment Weekly, and film footage of you on E! Entertainment Television. What she did not say was that each time he’d been photographed it had been with a different woman.

  “Pre-Oscar hype,” he said disdainfully.

  The waiter set their entrées on the table. She concentrated on eating her chicken and wilted spinach. She watched Theo watching her each time she glanced up. Whenever their gazes met, both shared a secret smile.

  Theo put down his water goblet and dabbed his mouth with the cloth napkin. “Have you thought about going into television?”

  Hope touched the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “No.”

  “How about radio?”

  “I’ve been offered a spot at an Atlanta-based talk radio station.”

  Theo leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Which one?”

  “WLKV.”

  “I know the program manager.”

  “Derrick Landry?”

  He nodded. “I met Derrick about ten years ago. He was in television at that time. He wanted me to do scripts for daytime soaps, but I turned him down because I preferred screenplays.” Lowering his arms, Theo leaned over the table. “Would you like me to put in a good word for you?”

  Hope pulled her lower lip between her teeth, wondering how much she should tell Theo about her medical dilemma. She then decided to be truthful. “That won’t be necessary because, I have the job.”

  He straightened. “When do you start?”

  “I’m not certain.”

  “You have the position, yet you don’t know when you’re going to start?”

  “I have a medical problem I have to resolve before I relocate to Atlanta.” Her gaze shifted and met his. “I have
endometriosis.”

  He frowned. “What’s that?”

  She explained the symptoms of the disease.

  “Don’t you… isn’t there an alternative to you having a hysterectomy?”

  Hope would’ve laughed at his expression if the subject matter hadn’t been so serious. It was a combination of shock and confusion. “Yes.”

  “What is it?”

  A smiled played at the corners of her mouth. “Have a baby.”

  He silently mouthed the three words. “You mean get pregnant?”

  “I believe that’s the same as having a baby, Theo.”

  Theo decided to ignore her flippant retort. “When were you first diagnosed?”

  “About seven weeks ago. I’m scheduled to return to the doctor early October. He has to reevaluate me and determine if I’ll have to undergo a procedure to remove the lesions.”

  “This procedure would not be a hysterectomy?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want children, Hope?”

  The flickering light from a candle on the table threw shadows over her face. She glanced down. “Yes, I do.”

  “Why haven’t you had a child?”

  Sighing softly, she said, “There are a few reasons. I’m not married and I haven’t met the man I’d want to father my children.”

  “Are you saying that you’d have to be married before you’d consider bearing a child?”

  She gave him a level look. “I’m saying that I’d prefer to be married before I have a child. If not married, then at least engaged.”

  Theo shook his head. “I can’t believe some man hasn’t made you his wife.”

  “What’s not to believe? I could say the same thing about you,” Hope countered. “Why isn’t there a Mrs. Theodore Howell?”

  “There’s no Mrs. Howell because all the women I date are girls. Los Angeles is filled with twenty-, thirty-, and sometimes forty-something-year-old girls.”

  “Perhaps you should consider relocating.”

  “Where would I go?”

  “New York, Atlanta, Chicago, Denver. You’d have lots of options.”

  Amusement flickered in his eyes. “Big Apple Diva, ’Lanta Hottie, Chi-town Sweetie, and Mile High Honey. You really think I’d find the love of my life in one of these cities?”