Low Country Christmas

by Lee Tobin McClain

  Pudge nodded. “But I didn’t visit, didn’t get involved. Paid my child support, yeah, but that’s it. Not that I didn’t want to—I missed them like crazy, especially right after I moved out—but their mom wouldn’t let me see them, and I didn’t fight it like I should’ve.”

  “Wow.” That just went to show you that you shouldn’t assume people had simple lives. “Are you able to keep up with them? Do any of them live nearby?”

  Pudge shook his head. “They’re busy with their own lives. I figure the least I can do is stay married so if something happens to me, they’ll get the death benefits from my pension. My wife doesn’t want anything to do with me, but she doesn’t mind taking my money.”

  Didn’t that sound familiar. And Cash understood Pudge’s thinking but wasn’t sure he agreed. It just didn’t seem fair to Ma. He opened his mouth to say something to that effect, but Pudge beat him to it.

  “Ma’s the kind of woman who understands complex situations. And for whatever reason, she loves me.” He shook his head, looked down at his enormous body, then back at Cash. “I wish I could do better by her. Wish I’d done better by my kids.”

  “That’s rough.” Cash didn’t know what else to say.

  “Yes, it is, so don’t you make the same mistake.” Now Pudge was looking at him hard. “I’m telling you, whatever pride or doubts you have, it’s not worth living with the fact that you’ve done the wrong thing.”

  Cash’s mind was being blown, right here in the Chevy dealership. He didn’t know anyone who was a better man than Pudge. Yet the man had made mistakes, big ones that obviously weighed heavy on him.

  “I know your own father had faults far worse than mine,” Pudge said. “Regardless, you don’t have to carry on what your father did. You’re your own man.”

  “I wish,” Cash said. “Whatever I do, I have Orin O’Dwyer’s blood in me.”

  “Pudge LeFrost?” the woman at the counter called.

  “That’s me. Guess they got the old truck running again.” Pudge started to heave himself up off the couch.

  Cash stood and held out a hand to help him pull himself upright, then turned and walked beside him to the counter.

  Pudge slapped Cash on the back. “You think about what I said.”

  “I will.” And he would. Pudge had made a good point. Life flew by fast and so did a baby’s early years, and he didn’t want to live with regrets about how he’d handled fatherhood.

  But with the taint of Orin’s blood, it might be better just to keep his distance.

  He walked over to the service bays and watched a couple of guys working under the hood of an old Chevy, pulling out an air compressor, tinkering with it. Moments later, it was fixed and fitted back in.

  If only Cash himself could be repaired like a car or a truck.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  OKAY, HOLLY THOUGHT as she sat at Ma Dixie’s kitchen table dangling a toy in front of Penny to cover her discomfort. Point taken. Cash was mad at her for rejecting him at the parenting class. But he’d brought her out to Ma Dixie’s and abandoned her in the midst of a family gathering, or at least the preparations for one, and she really, really didn’t appreciate it.

  It was the Saturday after Thanksgiving, a holiday that she and Penny had spent alone despite several invitations to join others for dinner—most insistently Cash’s brothers and their wives, who’d gathered at Sean’s place.

  She hadn’t wanted to impose. Hadn’t wanted to see Cash.

  But she had to admit, it had been a really lonely day. Every TV show and commercial, the family groups gathering at the homes around the apartment complex—all of it had made her feel her isolation keenly.

  She’d thought she wanted to be alone, thought that was safer, and it was, but it hadn’t been much fun. Even Penny had seemed to look at her with reproachful eyes, as if to say “this is what you have to offer for the holidays?”

  Her refusal to join the family, her keeping Penny to herself on the holiday, must have further alienated Cash and the rest of his family, too, even though most of them were still acting perfectly nice.

  You did it to yourself. It’s your own fault.

  The internal reminder annoyed her as she fiddled with Penny’s shoes, watching Cash’s sisters-in-law shred carrots and cabbage for coleslaw. She didn’t belong here, didn’t want to belong, didn’t trust this overfriendly family.

  Anna, Sean’s wife, looked at the old-fashioned clock on the wall. “We’d better head out if we want to see the guys crabbing,” she said.

  “Right.” Yasmin hurriedly washed her hands at the white porcelain sink. “Come on, Holly, this is a sight you’ve got to see.”

  Holly weighed the merits of going along with staying here. “I... Sure, okay. Just let me grab my diaper bag.”

  “Oh, leave the baby with Ma and Pudge. They’ll bring the kids out later.”

  “That’s what we’re doing,” Anna added. “Believe me, I can use a break from the girls and HoHo.”

  Holly wavered, but in the end, it was she who was responsible for Penny, and she didn’t want to start down the road of letting that responsibility slide. She didn’t want to be like Tiff, or their mother. “No, I couldn’t.”

  Both women looked at her blankly. “It’s fine. It’s Ma,” Yasmin said.

  “What’s Ma?” The older woman bustled into the kitchen.

  Anna smiled at her. “It’s you who’s willing to watch our kids while we run out ahead of everyone and see the guys.”

  “Oh, my, yes. Pudge and I will bring them out in the van in a bit. Rita and Norma, probably a few other folks, will be here any minute, too. They’ll give us a hand if we need it.”

  “Go ahead, Holly, hand her over to the expert,” Anna said. “Grab some freedom while you can get it. Believe me, I know it’s hard for a single mom to come by.”

  Holly stood, frozen against the wall, clutching Penny. She couldn’t leave her precious baby in the hands of these strangers. Strangers who considered themselves family, maybe, but not a one of them, Rita excepted, was related to Penny by blood.

  Yasmin stepped in front of her, frowning, hands on hips. “You’re hurting her feelings,” she said quietly.

  Anna patted Holly’s arm. “She’s a certified foster parent. She’s not going to hurt your child!”

  Yasmin glared at her. Ma held out her arms.

  This was the price of taking Cash’s generous child-support payments: she had to become a part of his family and his community. She definitely wasn’t comfortable with that, which was why she continued to work her dog-walking business and live frugally.

  But Penny needed a family and a community and the things Cash’s money could buy. So Holly was going to have to sacrifice some of her independence for Penny’s sake.

  “I... Okay.” She handed Penny to Ma. “She’s about ready for a nap, so she might be fussy.”

  “Fussy babies are my specialty, honey. You go have fun.”

  “I have a bottle for her in the diaper bag.” Holly hurried over to the coatrack, grabbed the diaper bag and thrust it into Ma’s hands. “Let me write down my phone number in case there’s any problem.” She grabbed a pen and Post-it note from the kitchen counter and scribbled down her number.

  “Got it. We’re going to have fun, aren’t we, Penny?” Ma smiled down at the baby, her eyes crinkling.

  “Thank you.” She turned, and then turned back and put a hand on Ma’s arm. “I mean that. Thank you. You’re very kind.” Then she followed the other two women out the door, stopping on the other side of the screen to give one backward glance.

  Penny was smiling up at Ma, beating her arms.

  She was fine. The separation anxiety was entirely Holly’s problem. And it seemed to have ticked off Cash’s sisters-in-law, who rode along in silence.

  They traveled only a few miles down the road, t
hen pulled off into a parking area along a large body of water.

  As Anna parked, Holly cleared her throat. “Look, I’m sorry to be so tense. It’s just that I didn’t grow up having a whole lot of people to trust.”

  Yasmin glanced back at her. “I hear you, but Ma has done an incredible amount for our men. We’re pretty protective of her.”

  “And Holly’s protective of her child,” Anna said. “It’s natural. I was the same way when I got to Safe Haven. Lighten up, Yas.”

  When they climbed out of the car, a salty ocean breeze was blowing in, and the marsh grasses shone red and gold. In a circle of stones, a fire burned, a giant pot of water boiling over it.

  And there, on the edge of the inlet, were the three O’Dwyer men. Liam and Sean held what looked like fishing lines, while Cash was farther out on the edge, peering down into the water. As she watched, he jerked a line and started hauling something out of the bay. A wire trap, sporting three large crabs. Even from here, she could see their claws opening and closing.

  “All right!” Yasmin said. “Blue crabs. I can almost taste them.” She took a step toward the men.

  Anna put a hand on her arm, holding her back. “Let’s just admire the view for a few minutes.”

  Yasmin smiled. “It’s a fine view, for sure.” Something in her voice made it clear that she wasn’t talking about the blue sky or sparkling water. No, she was talking about the laughing, muscular men. Two of them—Sean and Cash—emptied the trap’s snappish contents into what looked like an old laundry basket. Liam tugged at a line that held another crab at the end of it.

  Holly forgot, for a moment, that Penny was in the care of someone she barely knew and that Cash was mad at her. She just enjoyed the sound of deep laughter, the sight of the three men who looked so much alike punching and joking with each other in that strange way men had of showing love. Enjoyed it so much that she lifted her phone and snapped a couple of pictures.

  “I think it was hanging out by the water that healed them, way back when,” Anna said.

  “They needed healing?” Holly asked.

  Both women looked at her as if she was stupid. “Yeah, they needed healing.”

  “They had things pretty rough,” Anna explained quietly. “When they came to Safe Haven, their mom was abducted by their dad and they were left in foster care. I’m sure you heard that, but what you might not know is that they had bad reputations and got in a lot of trouble. They’ve worked hard to pull themselves up.”

  “I actually didn’t know,” Holly said, staring at the three men before her with new eyes.

  “The whole town kind of rallied around them,” Yasmin said. “My dad helped Liam get a college scholarship, but that’s just one example.”

  “Sean’s made peace with his past,” Anna said. “I think Liam has, too, wouldn’t you say, Yasmin?”

  “Mostly yes.” She frowned. “Cash, now...”

  “Cash hasn’t,” Anna said flatly.

  Guilt ate at Holly. She’d been judging Cash for his materialism, when he’d actually had a poorer and more difficult childhood than she had herself. Her mother had been preoccupied and sometimes neglectful, but at least she’d been around.

  Cash wasn’t just a rich man Tiff had taken advantage of. He was a survivor with scars.

  They walked closer to the men, enough to hear their banter.

  “Who’d have thought the O’Dwyer boys would be crabbing legally,” Liam said as he measured the crab he’d just pulled in.

  “Who’d have ever thought they’d amount to anything,” Sean said. “And now, look, we’ve got a genuine millionaire right here.” He pounded Cash hard on the back.

  “Jealous?” Cash taunted.

  “Yeah, well, get to work, millionaire,” Liam said. “Your fire’s about to go out.”

  Cash turned to poke at the fire, topped by a huge pot of steaming water, and that was when he spotted her. There was a light in his eyes for just a moment, but they quickly clouded.

  Holly’s heart ached for him. She’d treated him badly, pushing him away for no apparent reason. Underneath all his confidence was a troubled mind.

  While the other two women joined the men, talking and laughing, Holly sat on a rock and just watched.

  An old, rusty van and a newer pickup pulled into the parking lot. Kids poured out of the van, and there was Penny, perfectly safe and content in Ma Dixie’s arms.

  A couple of men she didn’t recognize pulled planks and sawhorses out of the pickup under Pudge’s direction and put them together to make a long plank table, which they covered with newspapers. Rita, Norma and another woman did an informal assembly line, passing dish after dish to set along the table.

  Holly took Penny from Ma’s arms, thanking her. “Was she good?”

  “A little angel.” Ma frowned. “Not where she should be, though. You’re having her tested?”

  “We are.”

  “Good. She’s going to be just fine, but she’s behind by a few months with gross motor skills.”

  So it was obvious, at least to an experienced foster parent, Holly thought as she tied a sun hat on Penny and smeared sunscreen over her arms and legs.

  The crabs were tossed into the pot of water boiling over the fire.

  She felt awkward sitting down beside Cash at the long table, but she didn’t feel comfortable sitting by anyone else, and after all, he was Penny’s father.

  And then her excuse for sitting with him was taken away, because Anna spread a blanket beside the table and scooped Penny up to sit with HoHo and Rocky, a teenage boy who, along with his mother, was visiting from out of state and who apparently loved babies.

  “And I don’t like seafood,” he said, “so I’ll just give ’em baby food or whatever you want.”

  “They say you can feed them shellfish at a year old,” Anna added, “but I’m a little nervous. I’m going to wait a few more months. I brought leftover chicken, way more than HoHo can eat.”

  “I have a whole box of crackers,” Holly said, and dug them out for the babies to share. Apparently, in this family, you just passed babies from person to person. It did require trust, but it also gave mothers a considerable amount of freedom.

  She stretched in the warm breeze and inhaled the smell of fresh-baked rolls someone was unwrapping. She could get used to this.

  Soon the crabs were done boiling—they were bright orange-red now—and were laid out in heaps on the newspaper. Holly looked at them blankly.

  “Don’t know how to eat ’em? Here, I’ll show you.” Cash put a crab in front of her. “First, you break off the legs. Throw those away, but keep the claws.” He showed her how to use scissors, a knife and her fingers to extract the meat. “You’re going to get messy,” he said, and then turned to the twins, who sat across from them. “Hang on, let me do the knife part and then you can dig in.”

  The twins acted as comfortable ripping apart the crabs as if they’d been born on the water. Holly, though, cringed a little at the messy-looking innards.

  “Here, get rid of those, those are the lungs. There, now. There’s the good meat.” He indicated a section of the crab, and when she just stared at it, he pulled it out for her. “Open wide,” he said.

  Her cheeks heated.

  “She’s not a baby, Uncle Cash!” Hayley said. “Still,” she added to Holly, “you should eat it. It’s really good.”

  So Holly opened her mouth, and Cash popped in the piece of crab. When she tasted it, her eyes widened.

  He grinned. “See? We wouldn’t steer you wrong.”

  Was it her imagination that his eyes lingered on her lips?

  Probably so, because he quickly turned away and occupied himself with helping the twins extract more of the delicious meat from the claws.

  When they’d all eaten their fill, Rita and Norma walked up and down the table with bowls of lemo
n water and stacks of soft washrags. Holly wiped her hands and mouth.

  Then she reached over and squeezed Cash’s hand. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ve been sort of awkward with your family, and I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.”

  He studied her, his gaze level. “I can’t figure you out,” he said. “You sure do run hot and cold. What’s with the mixed messages?”

  She bit her lip and shook her head, pretending simple shyness, because what could she say when she didn’t understand her own feelings?

  * * *

  THE NEXT THURSDAY MORNING, Holly shoved her hair off her sweating forehead and unlocked the door of her client Mitch Mitchell’s town house. From inside, she heard the hysterical barking and jumping of his shih tzu, Daisy.

  She had another dog with her, something Mitch didn’t like. He wanted Daisy to get her full attention on walks, but it wasn’t possible today.

  She tied the Lab mix to the front-porch railing, went inside and shrugged her child carrier off her back. Its design, comfortable and breathable on a rigid frame with a sort of kickstand, was priceless on occasions like this. She set the carrier on the floor, made sure Penny was well-supported and steady and then knelt to properly greet Daisy. The little dog was sweet and impeccably groomed, but hyperactive.

  “Come on, Daisy, let’s get your harness on.” She held up the pink contraption, enticing the pup with a contraband dog treat. She was running behind schedule. Penny had been out of sorts this morning, had spit up and struggled against getting dressed, and all of it had taken longer than it should.

  After Daisy and Gus the Lab mix, two more dogs were eagerly waiting for their lunchtime walks. She stretched her back. It was noon and she felt like she’d put in a full day already.

  A traitorous thought penetrated: if only she’d taken up Rita on her offer to babysit. Today would have been much easier if she wasn’t worrying about Penny, constantly stopping to check on her or readjust the straps of the new backpack carrier—an expensive purchase, but necessary if she was going to make this dog-walking-while-mothering gig work.