The Summer Wind - Page 17/88

Dora felt outrage bubble in her chest; how could Cal be so willing to leave Nate behind at Sea Breeze?

“No!”

“It makes sense. You said he liked it there. He’s settled. Comfortable. Moving him twice will be disruptive for him. You know he doesn’t like change. And,” he added with import, “it will give us time to talk. Just us. We need that.”

“But . . .”

“Just for a little while.”

“How long?”

He shrugged. “A few weeks. Maybe a month.”

Her mind felt stunned by disbelief that he would think she’d be willing to leave Nate behind for even a few weeks, much less a month. Yet, his offer of reconciliation, so close on the heels of the lawyer’s office debacle, muddled her thinking. Her mother’s words came back to her: If Cal is willing to reconsider, Dora should do whatever she can to save her marriage.

“You’re right, Cal. We don’t want to just throw away our marriage. But I’m tired now. My head feels fuzzy and I need to sleep.”

“Right. Of course. I’d better go.”

Dora managed a meager smile.

“I’ll be back in the morning.”

“Will you go to see Nate tomorrow? I don’t want him to worry.”

His face was all remorse. “I wish I could. But I’ve got a full day of appointments. I’m sure he’s in good hands at Sea Breeze.”

Dora tugged the thin blanket higher around her neck as she felt a sudden chill. She looked at her nails. They were short and unpainted. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a manicure. On her left finger she was still wearing the slim channel-set diamond wedding band. Cal had not once, in all his arguments, declared that he loved her. He’d not told her that he’d missed her, or missed their son.

Dora took a breath that exhaled all the angst, anger, and worry that she’d harbored in her chest for too long. A change of address was not going to change Cal. He didn’t want her back because he loved her. That was what she wanted to hear. What Cal wanted was for her to monitor the house renovations. He wanted to soften her up to get the better deal with the divorce.

She deserved better. Nate deserved better. It was not enough.

“You don’t have to come by the hospital, then, since you’re such a busy man,” Dora said flatly. “I’ll be fine. Thank you for the offer that I move into your condo. But it’s too soon. I need time alone to think—about our marriage, about me . . . about so many things before I’m ready to talk.”

Cal cleared his throat to speak but she pushed on, not giving him the chance to interrupt.

“As soon as I’m released, I’m going back to Sullivan’s Island. You’re right. Nate is happy there. And you know what? I’m happy there, too. I think we all deserve some happiness. We can talk again in a few weeks. Maybe a month.” She ventured a small smile on reiterating his words. “As for watching over the house improvements . . .” She shrugged. “Good luck with that.”

Chapter Five

Mamaw loved holidays. Christmas was her favorite, of course. Then Valentine’s Day, with its hearts and chocolate, and Easter, with the brightly colored eggs and pastel flowers. And now it was time to celebrate the Fourth of July. On the island, crowds of tourists thronged the flag-strewn streets.

She and Lucille were crawling through traffic to pick up Dora at the hospital and bring her home to Sea Breeze. Lucille drove her old Camry across the Ben Sawyer Bridge to Mt. Pleasant. It was a faithful car—ten years old with low mileage and nary a dent or scratch. Since Mamaw had given Carson her vintage Cadillac, she was without a car of her own. Just as well, she thought as she gazed out the window of the passenger seat. Her vision wasn’t what it used to be, nor was her reaction time. She sighed. For that matter, neither was Lucille’s.

Mamaw looked out the window as they rolled past the vast lowcountry wetlands. The tide was high, covering the oyster beds. Only the tips of the grasses were visible now, bright green from the recent heavy rain. This was the busiest week of the year on the island and even at midday the traffic was heavy and slow on the narrow road that crossed the marshes from island to mainland. Mamaw noticed, however, that there was a great deal of space between their car and the one in front.

“You drive as slow as a turtle,” she said to Lucille.

“I’m not slow,” Lucille replied with a scoff. “I’m careful.”

Mamaw looked in the rearview mirror. A long line of cars trailed behind them. This was a no-passing zone on a two-lane stretch. She could imagine the drivers of the cars behind them cursing the two old women who were leisurely leading the pack. She chuckled. Every time she used to drive she’d get at least one honk. Likely from a tourist, she thought. No one from Charleston would be so rude as to honk at an old lady. Once they were on the mainland the road opened to four lanes and cars zoomed past them, some of the young ones scowling as they roared by.

“Let ’em go,” Lucille muttered, her chin thrust forward and her hands tightly gripping the steering wheel. “I ain’t rushing on their account. I never got a ticket and I’m not going to start now, not after all these years. Them folks keep driving like that, they won’t reach my age. That’s for true.”

“The young are immortal, Lucille. Didn’t you know that?”

“Humph,” she said with a frown.

“Speaking of the young, I wonder what time Carson will arrive home today. I’m so proud that as soon as she heard about Dora’s broken heart syndrome she headed right home.”

“Told you she would.”

“With Dora coming home, there are changes to be made at Sea Breeze. We must follow the doctor’s orders to the letter.”

“More changes, you mean,” Lucille added. “I already never get to cook pork or grits no more.”

“If I have to forgo my little rum drink at night . . .”

Lucille guffawed. “Not exactly every night, are you?”

Mamaw swung her head to stare at Lucille. So . . . she knew about the hidden flask!

“I can’t see the harm of a small libation when I read my book at night. I’m alone in my room, after all.”

“If I have to give up my chitlins for Dora, then you’ve got to give up the rum for Carson. And Harper . . .” Lucille made a face. “Not eatin’ anything white. Who ever heard of such a thing? I’d of starved coming up!”