The Beach House. Mary Monroe Alice
else, she looked like her mother and grandmother: petite, with brilliant blue eyes, fine white-gold hair and porcelain skin. Ol’ Palmer would have his hands full keeping the boys from that one, she thought with a chuckle. And it would only be God’s good justice after the hell he’d raised growing up.
But Cooper was all Rutledge, from his strong jaw stuck out at a rebellious angle, to his broad forehead with the Rutledge hairline and the hint of what would someday become a proud, straight nose. He didn’t smile as much as grimace for the camera, as if to say, Do I have to? She tried to recall how old he was, ashamed that she didn’t know. It was a sad statement about her relationship with her brother. From the pudgy cheeks and the uncertain, wobbly smile, he looked to be no older than five. There was something in his eyes, however, a dark-brown like her own and her father’s, that drew her in. It was the vulnerability behind the bravado that she understood so well.
She placed the photograph slowly back onto its place on the mantel, feeling very distant from these children and sorry for it. She had no children of her own—not so much by choice as by circumstance—and they were her only niece and nephew. She’d sent them gifts at Christmas and for their birthdays, for which she promptly received polite but impersonal thank-you notes. Such was the extent of their relationship. She wondered if they would even recognize her if she passed them in the street?
Making a quick decision, she walked directly to the phone and dialed Palmer’s number at the family house. It was the same number she’d dialed since she was a child. It rang four times before a gruff voice answered.
“Palmer?” she asked, surprised to find him home in the morning. She’d expected to reach Julia.
There was a pause. “Mama?”
Cara laughed. “No, it’s me. Cara. How are you?”
“Cara? Well, for…This is a surprise! Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, fine. In fact, I’m in town.”
“No kidding? That’s great. How long you in for?”
“Not too long.”
“Business or pleasure?”
“Pleasure, actually.”
“Really?” He sounded genuinely surprised. He chuckled softly, a low, masculine rumbling sound unique to Southern men. “Well now, that’s a switch.”
“Don’t start in on me, Palmer,” she replied, laughing. “Actually, I’m out at the beach house. Mama asked me to come for a visit and I had a few days, so here I am.”
“Did she now?” He paused as though thinking that over. “So, did you meet her companion?”
By the way he said the word, she knew instantly that he disapproved of Toy Sooner. Cara sighed, remembering her promise to her mother. “I did. Briefly. She’s been keeping herself scarce and, frankly, I’ve been grounded with a migraine since I arrived. I couldn’t open my mouth except to groan. But I’m feeling much better now. Listen, Palmer, I saw photographs of Cooper and Linnea and I was amazed at how they’ve grown. Actually, I’m calling because I’d like to see y’all while I’m in town.” Palmer’s drawl was so infectious she couldn’t help the Lowcountry from creeping back into her own tone and words.
“Why sure, honey! We’d love that. Julia will cook up something real special. When can you come?”
She felt herself smiling. “When do you want me?”
“Well, here’s the thing. I’m fixing to leave for Charlotte this afternoon. I’ve got some business to tend to up there that’ll take up the week. I’m packing my suitcase right now. How about Saturday? You gonna be here that long? That’s a whole three days away….”
She let the tease ride. Looking out the window she saw a brilliant blue sky. She’d spent her first week groaning in bed with the shades drawn or moping—hardly a vacation. But more importantly, she hadn’t accomplished what she’d come here to do. And she wanted to see her niece and nephew.
“You can count on it, big brother.”
“Well, good,” he replied, and she could hear the pleasure in his drawl. “We’re all looking forward to it. And bring that runaway back home with you, hear? Tell her that her grandbabies miss her. Mama hasn’t been back here but a few times since she left. She’s like a hermit crab, hiding out in that tiny place. I worry about her.”
“Come out to the island, then. It’s not far.”
“Maybe now that summer’s here and the kids are out of school, we’ll do just that. We’ll come out for a good visit.”
“Mama’d like that.” Then, thinking of Toy, “But it’s a little crowded here now.”
“Hell, I don’t stay in the cottage anymore,” he said, shooing away the suggestion in his blustery voice that sounded so much like her father’s it was eerie. “I’ve got my own place on Sullivan’s Island. Over by the lighthouse. Problem is, it’s rented out so much in the summer we hardly ever get to come down to the water like we want to.”
Cara heard the pride in his voice and thought that business must be pretty good for him to buy a summerhouse on Sullivan’s. Last she’d heard, they were saving to buy a house downtown. Could be they liked living in Mother’s house well enough. Then Cara knew an unsettling feeling as a new thought took root.
“Why don’t y’all come around four o’clock,” he said. “We’ll take a spin on the boat, maybe go up the Intracoastal a ways and come around back to the harbor. I’ll bet you haven’t done that in a long time. We can have ourselves some drinks and watch the sun set like old times. We’ll do it proper.”
“Sounds great, Palmer,” she said, meaning it. “Is there anything I can bring?”
“Well now, since you asked. Remember that shack that sells shrimp over on Shem Creek? Clud’s?”
“No, but I can find it.”
“Now, how can you forget an operation like that? Sure you remember. They’ve got the freshest shrimp, sell it right off the boat. You have to turn off Coleman by the gas station and wind your way round the old neighborhood as far back as you can go. It’s way in there by the dock. If you can get me some of that shrimp, I’ll take care of the bill when I see you. About four pounds ought’a do it. I’d get it myself but I won’t be back from Charlotte until Friday and Julia and the kids are coming along to visit her mother. We’ll all be back on Friday, though. Think I’ll make us some Frogmore Stew.”
She wondered if Palmer remembered that it had been her favorite Lowcountry meal growing up and wanted to prepare it just for her. “I sure can’t say no to an offer like that.”
“Well then, that’s that. Say hello to Mama for me. I’ll see you soon.”
They signed off with the same familiarity as if they’d just talked yesterday. It was like that with family, she thought, staring at the old telephone with a grin on her face. They could be separated for years but in a few words an age-old connection was made that had nothing to do with telephone wires.
She placed the receiver back into its cradle but left her hand resting on it. The house was quiet. She was alone. In for a penny, in for a pound she decided and picked up the phone again. God, it was a clunky thing and it weighed a ton compared to her little cell phone. She dialed her home number and checked her messages.
There were the expected sympathy calls from colleagues, some of whom were also laid off, some of whom she wasn’t sure about. She wrote these numbers down. Richard had called many times, asking why she wasn’t answering her cell phone, each time sounding more worried and pleading that she call.
Richard. She missed him with a sudden urgency, conjuring up his strong features and dark-brown hair just beginning to show dashing strands of gray. They’d shared disasters and triumphs alike. Everyone at the agency knew