Faith gave their mother a hug and held her tight for a long minute. When she pulled away, Jackie noticed her sister’s eyes glistening with tears. On closer inspection, she detected a yellow tint in the skin across Faith’s nose and on her cheeks beneath her eyes.
“What happened to your—”
The death stare Sam shot at her stopped Jackie in midsentence. She felt a ray of hope. Maybe she and Bill weren’t the main items on Sam’s agenda after all.
“I was worried about you, Mom. Are you okay?” Sam asked, straightening their mother’s collar.
“What kind of question is that?” Lovie waved Sam’s hand away. “Of course I’m okay.”
Faith kissed the air beside Jackie’s cheek. “I hope you don’t mind. We had some seafood we needed to use, so we decided to try out a couple of new recipes on you.”
“Fine by me,” Jackie said. “Why pay thirty dollars a pound for crabmeat when you can get it for free?”
“I’ll have you know, we still had to pay wholesale for that crabmeat,” Lovie said.
“The wine, on the other hand, we got for free from our distributor.” Sam picked up her salad tongs and waved them at the open bottles on the island. “Help yourselves. We’re having a little tasting, a Pinot Grigio and a Chardonnay. Both pair nicely with seafood.”
Pair nicely? Since when had Sam become the expert? She’d never known her sister to have more than a sip or two of wine at family gatherings, but judging from the rosy glow on Sam’s cheeks, she was already more than a glass into the bottle.
Faith took Lovie’s handbag from her, and led her to an empty stool at the island. “Can I pour you a glass, Mama?”
Lovie shook her head. “I’ll just have some iced tea.”
“Who’s this handsome chef over here?” Bending down, Jackie planted a peck on Jamie’s cheek. “I almost didn’t recognize you without all the hair.”
Jamie blushed. “Here, Aunt Jackie.” He handed her a serving plate. “Try some of my smoked mackerel spread. I caught the fish myself.”
Jackie spread a smidgeon of mackerel dip on a cracker and took a tentative bite. Her eyes grew wide. “I’m not a big fan of fish, but that tastes surprisingly good.” She added a big blob of mackerel to her cracker and popped the whole thing into her mouth.
“Have you heard anything from Cooper and Sean?” Jamie asked.
“I’ve had one letter from them.” She held up her index finger. “Not one letter from each of them. One letter from both. Sounds like they’re having a good time, enjoying the privileges of being junior counselors.”
“When are they coming home?” Jamie asked.
“I’m going to pick them up on Saturday.” She heaped mackerel spread on another cracker before turning her attention to her niece. “What’re you working on over here?” She kissed the top of Bitsy’s head. “Did you make that cornbread all by yourself?”
Bitsy chewed on her bottom lip. “Aunt Sam brought it home from Sweeney’s. Roberto made it.”
“Who’s Roberto?” Jackie asked.
“Our new cook,” Lovie said. “He came equipped with a treasure trove of secret recipes.”
“Well it smells delicious.” She turned to Sam. “What can I do to help?”
Sam handed Jackie a stack of placemats and a fistful of silverware and sent her outside to the deck to set the table. Relieved to have a moment alone, she took her time carrying out her designated task. She was glad her sister decided to eat outside. Why waste a nice evening crammed around a tiny table in a stuffy dining room?
When she finished setting the table, she poured six glasses of iced tea while the others loaded up the table with food. Sam offered an appropriate blessing for Father’s Day, thanking the Lord for giving them such a wonderful father in Oscar. They all dug in, as though they hadn’t seen a proper meal in weeks. Jackie drank a half glass of each of the wines with her dinner, and placed her vote for the Pinot Grigio. “But don’t let me be the judge,” she said. “I’m biased. I’ve always been partial to Pinot over Chardonnay or Sauvignon Blanc.”
After clearing the table and rinsing the dishes, Bitsy and Jamie took their desserts to the sitting room to give the adults a chance to talk.
Sam handed Jackie a huge slice of key lime pie.
Jackie pushed the plate away. “I only want a sliver.”
Sam slid the plate back across the table. “You won’t say that when you taste it.”
Jackie took a small bite and savored the rich creamy filling in the graham cracker crust. “Oh my God. Is this one of Roberto’s secret recipes, too?”
Lovie beamed. “The pies are a new product for us, made by a local woman. Key lime is the most popular, but peach is my favorite.”
“I like the chocolate chess the best.” Faith set her fork down and wiped her mouth. “Mama, Jacqueline. There’s something I need to tell you.”
Faith cast Sam a tentative glance, and Sam signaled for her to continue.
“Curtis and I have split up. Bitsy and I have moved out of the trailer and we’re living here with Sam. At least for the time being.”
Relieved not to be the one on center stage, Jackie let this tidbit of news sink in. “I tried to warn you, Faith,” she said. “You never should have married that redneck.”
When Sam glared at her, Jackie glared back. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”
“You can’t just give up like that, honey,” Lovie said. “Every marriage has its ups and downs. You and Curtis will just have to try a little harder. For Bitsy’s sake.”
Jackie’s heart sank. If her mother was so opposed to Faith leaving a deadbeat like Curtis, no telling how she’d react when Jackie told her she planned to divorce Bill, a cardiologist and outstanding member of society.
Jackie pointed her fork at Faith’s face. “For Pete’s sake, Mom. Don’t you see the bruises?”
Lovie got up and went around to the other side of the table. She took her youngest daughter’s face between her hands and studied the yellow bruises that stood out against Faith’s pale skin in the late day sun. “Are you saying Curtis did this to you?
Faith hung her head. “He’s not the same person I married, Mama.”
“Looks to me like Curtis is exactly the same person you married,” Jackie said. “Where is he, by the way? Why is his bike out front?”
“Curtis is in jail,” Sam said.
“In jail?” Lovie lowered herself into Bitsy’s vacated chair next to Faith. “What on earth?”
“The police arrested him when he came over here Thursday night with a loaded pistol.” Faith went on to describe all the events involving Curtis during the past week.
“He hasn’t done anything to hurt Bitsy, has he?” Lovie asked.
“I can’t say for sure,” Faith admitted. “They were alone together a lot while I was at work. She’s terrified of him. I know that much.”
Lovie reached for Faith’s hand. “We will get through this together, as a family.”
“How long can they keep him in jail?” Jackie asked.
Sam said, “According to Eli, my contact at the police station, Curtis was unable to make bail when he appeared before the magistrate on Friday.”
“I imagine one of his loser friends will bail him out eventually,” Faith said.
“You and Bitsy could stay with me. I have an alarm system designed to protect Fort Knox.”
Faith smiled at her sister. “Thanks, Jackie. I appreciate it, really I do, but Bitsy feels safe here with Sam and Jamie. That’s not to say I won’t take you up on it at some point in the future.”
“Well, if you change your mind …” Jackie was secretly relieved her sister had declined her invitation. She couldn’t very well have Faith as a houseguest without explaining Bill’s absence. Considering the confusion their mother had experienced earlier, and now Faith’s confession, Jackie thought Lovie had faced enough drama for one night. She’d wait for another time to tell her family about her own plans for divorce.
“Eli promised
to contact us when they release Curtis,” Sam said.
“We’ll know anyway when his bike disappears,” Faith said.
“But when that happens, the two of you need to be on the lookout for him”—Sam looked at her mother, then her older sister—“in case he decides to come after one of you.”
“I seriously doubt he’s that desperate,” Jackie said.
“He’s unemployed and broke, and that makes him desperate,” Sam said. “Throw in gambling and alcohol addictions, add an anger management problem, and he becomes dangerous. Maybe I’m being a little overdramatic, but I think it’s important for all of us to be on alert.”
Jackie had her own problems to worry about without having to concern herself with her delinquent brother-in-law. She’d offered for Faith to stay out at the farm. What more could she do?
She got up and began clearing the table. She was placing the last dessert plate in the dishwasher when Sam sought her out in the kitchen.
“I didn’t get a chance to ask you how Mom was when you picked her up.”
Jackie, glancing around to make certain they were alone, leaned back against the counter. “When I got to her townhouse, I found Mom sitting in her car with the car running. She had no clue where she was supposed to be going.”
Sam poured the last of the Pinot Grigio into her glass. “Tell me everything.”
Jackie described her mother’s latest episode of confusion in detail, including the mystery behind the rusty key. “I’ve never seen that key before in my life, but Mom seems convinced the key fits something at my house.”
“That’s strange. Why would she think that?”
“Who knows? Maybe the key does fit something at the farm. She lived next door in the cottage for all those years. I’ll take a look around the property tomorrow, and see what I can find.”
“I guess it can’t hurt. I must say I’m curious.” Sam paused, thinking. “I know you are dealing with your own issues right now, but …”
Irritation crawled across Jackie’s skin at Sam’s subtle yet undeniable proclamation. She knew about Bill’s affair and was providing Jackie with the opportunity to come clean about their problems. But Jackie refused to be bullied into a confession. She would tell them on her own terms.
“But what, Sam?” Jackie said, her jaw set firmly.
“Can you at least help out with Mom on her days off? With Faith staying here and Jamie in a wheelchair, my hands are full.”
“I can’t this week. I have an important meeting in Charleston on Wednesday, and I’m picking the boys up from camp on Saturday.”
“That’s perfect. I’m sure the boys will love spending some time with their grandmother on Sunday.”
Jackie imagined the dreaded drive home from the mountains with the twins. After learning of their parents’ divorce, she doubted that Cooper and Sean would be in the mood for entertaining their grandmother.
“I’ll try, Sam. But I can’t promise anything. As you mentioned earlier, I have my own problems just now.”
Twenty-Seven
Samantha
Sam heard from Eli late Monday afternoon when he called to tell her Curtis had been released, but she didn’t see him again until he showed up at Sweeney’s late Wednesday morning with a woman in tow who needed no introduction—Janie Jasper, known throughout coastal South Carolina as the authority on all things Lowcountry. As reporter for the weekly magazine Lowcountry Living, Janie received invitations to the best parties and offered the best tables in the trendiest restaurants in and around the Charleston area. In a drop-dead-gorgeous Angelina Jolie kind of way, she appeared even more glamorous in person, with shiny mahogany shoulder-length hair, amber-colored eyes, and a toned body that made her simple white sheath look elegant.
What are they even doing here? Sam wondered, once the shock of having a celebrity on the premises wore off.
Unsure of how to approach them, she opted to keep things professional. “Let me know if I can help you with anything.”
“Thanks.” Eli gave Sam a perfunctory nod. “We’re just looking around.”
She experienced a pang of jealousy when Janie grabbed Eli’s arm and pulled him close, whispering in his ear the way lovers do.
Sam sorted through an order of fish she’d received that morning, while eavesdropping on their conversation as much as possible. She felt five sets of eyes spying on them from the kitchen—Roberto’s as well as her mother’s, sister’s, niece’s, and son’s.
Eli and Janie ambled through the market, reading ingredients on labels, deciding which of the prepared products they’d like to try, and discussing all the different methods for cooking shrimp.
Finally they wandered over to where she was working. “Sam, I’d like you to meet—”
“Janie Jasper. Welcome to Sweeney’s.” Sam offered her hand and the most sincere smile she could manage. Regardless of Eli’s relationship with this woman, Janie had the power to dictate Sweeney’s future.
Janie shook Sam’s hand. “Eli has told me so much about your family’s history at Sweeney’s and your recent renovations.”
“What little I know, of course,” Eli said.
“I must say I’m intrigued,” Janie continued. “Enough to feature you in next week’s Lowcountry Living if you will let us.”
Sam wanted to victory dance on top of the counter, but she managed to maintain her composure. “We’d be honored. You just tell me how we can help.”
Janie pointed to the collection of black–and-white photographs on the back wall, taken over the course of nearly six decades—Lovie under her umbrella stand in the parking lot at the Inlet View Marina in 1958; the first grand opening of Sweeney’s in 1959; after the storm surge from Hurricane Hugo, which flooded the building in 1989; and the most recent, the grand reopening only two weeks ago. “Do you have any copies of these photos?” she asked. “I’d love to use them for my article.”
Faith appeared, with an envelope full of photos, followed by Lovie bearing a tray of coffee and all the fixings.
“Janie, this is my sister Faith, and my mother Lovie.” Sam gestured toward the pass-through window along the back wall. “And while we’re making introductions, those three sets of spying eyes in the kitchen belong to my son Jamie, my niece and Faith’s daughter Bitsy, and our cook Roberto.”
“I can see the headline now.” Janie spread her hands out wide in front of her. “A Family Affair. Captain Sweeney’s Seafood. The Next Generation.”
Janie had done her homework. Few remembered that Sweeney’s Seafood started out as Captain Sweeney’s Seafood Market.
“Beats the heck out of ‘Too Uptown for Small Town,’” Jamie called out from the back.
Janie cupped her hands around her mouth as she responded. “I believe in unbiased reporting, Jamie. When I’m finished, every seafood lover from Beaufort to Georgetown will be standing in line for lunch.”
Sam beamed. She couldn’t blame Eli if he was in fact romantically involved with the journalist. She was developing her own minicrush on her.
“Let me just call in my photographer.” Janie opened the front door and waved to a man sitting in a minivan parked on the street.
“This is Mano, my trusted photographer and friend.” Janie introduced each of them individually.
“She’s good, isn’t she?” Mano pointed his thumb at his boss. “Never forgets a name or a face.” Mano had the unmistakable accent of a Hawaiian with the leathery dark skin to match.
“Enough with the flattery, Mano. Let’s get busy. You know the drill.” Janie set her bag on the counter and removed her iPad. She turned to Sam, poised to take notes. “Why the renovations, Sam? Why now?”
“Out of necessity,” Sam said. “The floor joists were infested with termites, causing the whole building to sag.”
“It was time,” Lovie added. “Nothing had changed since my husband and I opened the place back in 1959.”
“Tell me about that.” Janie balanced the iPad in the palm of her left hand while typing
with the fingers on her right. “How did you go from selling fish out of a cooler on the docks to all this?” She spread her free hand wide.
While Janie conducted her interview, Mano snapped several photographs—pictures of Bitsy arranging produce, Sam and Faith standing in front of the interlocking Ss logo, Robert and Jamie huddling together around the stove in the kitchen, and Lovie posing behind the fish counter. Janie asked every question imaginable, not only about the business but about their lives. She wanted to know what set their market apart from others like it, the biggest challenges in running a family business, the latest trends in seafood, and the most popular new products.
“It doesn’t get any fresher than that,” Janie said when Sam explained that Sweeney’s purchased most of their fish from the boat captains who docked at the marina across the street.
“Those boat captains are part of the Sweeney’s family.” Lovie beamed. “As you know, my husband was one of them. His original partner and best friend, Captain Mack Bowman, is still our biggest supplier.”
After an hour of picture taking and question answering, Janie declared she had enough information for her feature. As a courtesy, she promised to send Sam a proof before the article went to print.
Sam turned to Eli once Janie was gone. “I’m grateful—don’t get me wrong—but I hope you didn’t have to twist her arm too hard to convince her to do the article.”
“You’ve got it all wrong, Sam. Yes, I asked a favor of Janie. But she has her reputation to think of. She would never have done the article if she didn’t think Sweeney’s worthy.”
Tingles of excitement tickled her belly. “Really?”
“Janie and I made an agreement. I left it up to her. If she decided not to do the feature, the plan was to load up on shrimp salad and leave.”
“An article in Lowcountry Living might be the only thing that can save Sweeney’s, so thank you.” Sam glanced at her watch. “Good Lord. Where did the morning go? Jamie and I have to get on the road.”
“On the road to …”
“To Charleston. To pick up some wine from the distributor. We are running low on one of our more popular brands. With business this slow, we are not in danger of selling out or anything. I just used it as an excuse to get Mom to come into work on her day off. I don’t like her being home alone, now that Curtis is on the loose.”
Her Sister's Shoes Page 21