On Folly Beach

by Karen White

  Lulu grabbed her navy blue wool coat from the coatrack and ran to the front door. But before she reached it, she raced back and stopped in front of Peter. “Thank you, Mr. Nowak. I really like my book.”

  Then she flew out the door, not even bothering to put on her coat.

  Maggie smiled at Peter. “Thank you. I haven’t seen her that excited about something in a long time. Her smile is the best gift you could ever give me.”

  He reached into his other inside pocket and pulled out another small package also wrapped in brown paper, and slid it in front of her on the counter. “Don’t speak so hastily.”

  “What is it?” she asked, and then they both laughed as she realized that she sounded just like Lulu.

  “Open it.” His amber eyes were lit from within, and she shuddered involuntarily, remembering something Cat had told her about how a man could make you feel when he touched you without any clothes on. Maggie figured she now somehow knew what Cat had been talking about. She tried not to think of Jim and his chaste kisses, or the way he was afraid to hold her too tightly.

  She grabbed a letter opener from the mason jar by the cash register, then used it to gently open the package, sparing as much of the paper wrapping as possible so she could reuse it. She peered inside and found neatly folded tissue paper. With her forefinger, she tentatively moved the tissue aside and stopped. A blush suffused her cheeks as she raised her eyes to Peter’s.

  “I hope it’s not too personal a gift, but a good friend assured me that in these times, it’s perfectly acceptable for a gentleman to provide a lady with any items that she might have use for but is unable to find.”

  Feeling slightly mollified, she looked inside the package again, where two pairs of neatly folded silk stockings lay nestled in tissue paper. At least he hadn’t included a garter belt because then she would have just died of mortification.

  “I haven’t seen silk stockings in a while.” She held the package to her chest, feeling wanton, and beautiful, and desired by a handsome man. “Thank you, Peter.”

  He put his elbows on the counter, leaning toward her. “It’s the least I can do. You’ve made my time on Folly something to look forward to.” His eyes darkened as he regarded her, and she found herself frantically trying to think what Cat would do, yet every answer only deepened her blush.

  Peter smiled as if reading her mind. “You can wear them tonight. Thought we could go to the Folly Bowling Center. They’ve got the biggest juke box in town, so I hear, and there’s going to be dancing. I’d love to be able to show you off.”

  “I’d love to.” She smiled back at him, their faces close, and wondered if tonight would be the night he’d kiss her again. The bell over the door jangled, followed by a blast of cool air and high, shrill laughter. Maggie looked up to see Cat and her officer standing much too close, the officer’s hand resting possessively on Cat’s hip. Cat wore her green coat, the one Lulu had given to Maggie for each of her dates with Peter, and as Maggie watched his expression, she could tell he noticed it, too.

  “Good afternoon, Lieutenant. Hello, Cat.” She smoothed a pleasant smile on her face as the handsome couple entered the store, the light suddenly gone from the small space.

  Cat’s expression gave no indication of her mood, making Maggie wince. It was easier to deal with her cousin when she knew for sure what to avoid saying.

  “Have y’all heard the news?” Cat’s tone was almost giddy. Robert dropped his hand as the two of them moved forward.

  Peter nodded his head slightly at Cat in greeting. “Mrs. Brier,” he said quietly, stiffening almost imperceptibly.

  After introducing the two men, Maggie turned to her cousin. “What news?” Folly’s Finds sold both the News and Courier and the Charleston Evening Post, and she read them cover to cover to be well informed despite what Cat told her about men disliking women who knew more than they did. The papers were full of the war in Europe, but Maggie knew that Cat’s news would probably have a more local interest.

  “The Hendersons have cousins from North Carolina staying with them for a couple of weeks, and they’re saying that there’re German submarines in the water off of Cape Hatteras, where they live. Isn’t that exciting?”

  Maggie’s eyebrows furrowed. “But that’s impossible. All the news-men have been saying that it’s too far for submarines to come all the way over here.”

  Robert seemed to be studying Peter’s face before he spoke, as if measuring how much detail or how candidly he could speak. “Actually, that’s not completely true. The German U-boats are more than capable of crossing the Atlantic. Whether or not they’ve made it to the eastern coast of the U.S. is conjecture at this point.”

  Cat squeezed herself in between Peter and Robert at the counter. “Well, Sally and Katie Henderson are saying that a bunch of stuff has been washing up on shore—stuff that could be coming from ships—and the fishermen are complaining of oil slicks killing fish. They’re saying that they’ve even seen bodies in the water. And that the Germans are planning on landing somewhere on the coastline.”

  Maggie turned to Robert. “Do you know if that’s true?”

  “I can only tell you what I know. At this point, there is no real evidence that any boats have been sunk by a German U-boat. It’s wartime and rumors are everywhere.” He glanced at Peter as if for reassurance that Maggie and Cat were strong enough to hear the rest. He continued. “I have heard that the new German subs have extended range because they store their diesel in ballast tanks, giving them enough fuel to make it here and back.” He smiled reassuringly. “I’m sure there’s no need to worry. And if there is, you’ll be the first to know.”

  Cat squeezed his arm and pressed herself against him, but Maggie caught her throwing a glance at Peter to see his reaction. Cat must have been disappointed as Peter seemed to be more focused on the headlines in the newspapers stacked in front of him.

  As if sensing eyes on him, Peter looked up and smiled. “Well, I’m thinking it’s a bunch of talk. When I was in New York recently, I read a newspaper article asking the people to stop spreading rumors. Seems the whole Eastern seaboard is saying they’ve heard of somebody else who’s seen a U-boat, but nobody can find firsthand witnesses. Besides, we don’t have to worry about it here in Folly. We have the horse patrol keeping an eye out, right?” He gently touched Maggie’s arm, as if to remind her of the evening on the beach when they’d gone into the deserted house, and her face flamed again.

  Robert cleared his throat. “Of course not. Especially with all of the servicemen here and the nearby airfield in Charleston, it wouldn’t make sense for the Germans to pick on Folly. And if they’re blowing up ships off of Cape Hatteras, it’s because that’s where northbound ships ride up the gulfstream; we don’t have that so close to our coastline here in South Carolina. But a tanker sure would make a real easy target sandwiched between a German sub and a well-lit coastline.”

  Peter skewered him with a look. “So you’re saying it’s possible there’s some truth to the rumors.”

  Robert looked chagrined as he put his arm around Cat. “I suppose it’s possible. It’s just that nobody’s actually seen one of the U-boats. And it appears that Washington doesn’t believe it either since no official blackouts have been ordered for the eastern coastline.”

  Peter leaned forward. “But you’re with the navy. Surely you could tell us if there are more patrols being sent out to keep these ladies safe.”

  Robert paused for a brief moment before answering. “I’m not at liberty to say, sir, but I can assure you that the United States Navy and Coast Guard will do their duty to protect the coastline. These ladies and all their neighbors can sleep soundly at night knowing that.”

  “Good,” Peter said before stepping back, his arm brushing Maggie’s as he turned to look at her, and all she could do was remember to breathe.

  Robert glanced at his wristwatch. “I’m heading out to Florida with some new recruits, so I need to leave.” He took both of Cat’s hands in hi
s and looked at her in a way that made the room seem much warmer. Quietly, as if for her ears only, he said, “I’ll see you in two weeks.”

  Without kissing Cat, doubtless because of Maggie and Peter being there, he said his good-byes and left. Cat stared after his departing back, and for a brief moment, Maggie believed that Cat might actually be sad to see him go.

  Cat faced them again and walked back to the large oak counter. “What’s this?” she asked, picking up Maggie’s package without waiting for an answer.

  Before Maggie could take it away from her, Cat had already opened it and pulled the stockings out of the tissue paper. Touching them with her fingertips as if to make sure they were real silk, she said, “What a lovely gift. Not exactly appropriate for a gentleman to give a lady, but I promise not to tell.” She sent Maggie a reproving glance before stuffing the stockings back into the bag and dropping it on the counter.

  Cat kept her head down and sighed heavily. “It must be nice to have a man looking out for you.” Cat looked up at Peter with tear-filled eyes that almost fooled Maggie. Cat placed her hand on his sleeve. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without Robert. He’s really been helping distract me from my grieving over Jim.” She frowned, even managing to look pretty with her furrowed brows pointing in a “v” over her delicate nose. “And he promised to fix my window but he didn’t get a chance to. Now I’m going to have to try to fix it myself, and I just hope that I won’t get hurt.”

  Peter remained stiff and unyielding despite Cat’s hand on his arm. “Can’t you wait until he returns?”

  She sniffed. “I would, except on warmer days my room gets so stifling that I feel as if I’m going to suffocate, or that the stale air will make me ill. And then what sort of help would I be for Maggie?”

  They both looked at Maggie, who’d begun to feel the same way she did when she was in a boat and the wind suddenly changed direction. “You could come sleep in my room, Cat, at least until Robert gets back—or until I find somebody else to fix it. I’m sure Lulu won’t mind sleeping in her old room again.”

  Cat shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly do that to poor Lulu. She needs fresh air, too.” She peered up at Peter through her thick, dark lashes. “I was hoping that Peter would be able to help me. Surely you could spare him for a couple of hours.”

  Maggie wanted to shout no, to grab Peter and run as far away from Cat as she could. But she wasn’t a young girl anymore, and she couldn’t behave like one. And if she couldn’t trust Peter, wasn’t she better off without him? She tried not to think of Jim and how she’d trusted him, too.

  Maggie found herself nodding. “Of course. I need to unpack a few boxes that arrived today anyway. Y’all go on.”

  With a look of disappointment that sent Maggie’s heart soaring, Peter turned to her. “All right. But I’ll pick you up at six o’clock, okay?”

  “Great,” she said, sounding much more upbeat than she felt. She focused on her breathing, moving her lungs in and out as she watched Peter escort Cat through the door, the bell jangling as the door slammed shut.

  LULU RAN AS FAST AS she could down the dirt streets littered with sand and shells to her friend Amy’s house on Third Street. Her lungs hurt from the cold air, but sweat dampened the back of her blouse despite the cooler temperature. She clutched the book in her hand, already feeling the anticipation of curling up in whatever room Martha wasn’t cleaning and reading the book from cover to cover without getting up once.

  But first she needed to show it to Amy, if only to make her a little bit jealous, and to promise to lend it to her friend once she had finished reading it.

  She bounded up the cracked and peeling front steps to Amy’s house and pounded on the outside screen door, which was missing most of its screen. When nobody answered right away, Lulu flung the door open and banged on the wooden front door, cutting her knuckle on a faded chip of red paint that crumbled under her fist.

  “Amy!” she called, stepping back so that her voice would carry up to Amy’s bedroom. When she saw no movement in any of the upstairs windows, she slid her gaze down and saw that somebody had replaced the blue star in the front window with a gold one. Carefully, Lulu let the screen door shut and walked over to the gold star, raising her hand to the glass.

  She swallowed down the lump in her throat. She knew what a gold star was, of course; they had their own, hung in the window by Maggie when Jim had been killed. It hadn’t occurred to Lulu before to wonder why it hadn’t been Cat to do it.

  Slowly, she walked down the steps before turning around to stare at the empty house, wondering if Amy would be back. Not really paying attention to where her feet were taking her, she crossed the yard and went around the house to the backyard, where the bottle tree she’d given Mrs. Bailey was. She and Amy had started a club, although they hadn’t come up with a name yet, but they’d started leaving secret notes to each other in the bottles to discuss their secret meetings and ideas and even the names of other girls they might want to invite to join the club.

  Lulu stopped short as she came around the corner of the house. The tree lay on its side where a strong wind must have knocked it over, the bottles intact yet scattered around the thin tree branch. Lulu moved closer to study it, almost relieved that her tree couldn’t be blamed for Mr. Bailey’s death. It could only keep away the bad spirits if it was standing up, the mouths of the bottles open and ready for the bad spirits. She had a picture in her head of Jonah and the whale when she thought about her bottles, which made her think that her bottle trees couldn’t be evil if they made her think of a Bible story.

  Carefully placing her Nancy Drew book on the ground, Lulu set about restoring the bottle tree to where it should be, using her feet to pack the sandy soil up against the base of the trunk. Then she replaced the bottles on the upturned branches, liking the way the house and yard changed when she looked through glass, like she was being taken to a distant place where men who went off to war always came back.

  She stepped back to admire her artwork, realizing too late that it wasn’t the same tree she’d made before. But maybe that was better, because this house and the Bailey family weren’t going to be the same, either.

  After laying her coat on the ground, she knelt beside it and dug into the pockets until she located the broken pencil she’d found on the school playground. Then, after thinking about it for just a minute, she picked up her Nancy Drew book and carefully tore the bottom off of a blank page next to the back cover. It made her a little sick to do it, but she didn’t have anything else to write on and it was important that she do this.

  Using her leg as a writing surface, she wrote a note to Amy.

  I’m sorry about your daddy. I liked him a lot and I know you will miss him like I still miss Jim. My bottle tree is to help me remember him, and I hope if you come back you will think of this tree in the same way about your daddy. I’m thinking our club name can be the Bottle Tree Memories Club, if you want.

  I hope you come back. I’ve got a new Nancy Drew book and I’ll let you read it as many times as you want.

  Without signing the note on purpose, thinking it wouldn’t be much of a secret club if she put her name on everything, she rolled the paper up lengthwise and stuck it inside the wide mouth of a mason jar, making sure the note was wider than the mouth so it wouldn’t fall out.

  After standing back to make sure everything looked good, Lulu picked up her coat and her book and began the slow walk home. She was kicking large shells and rocks and had just started to think how angry Maggie would be when she saw the scuffed toes of her new saddle shoes, when she turned the corner onto her street and stopped in surprise.

  She watched as her cousin Cat walked in that swishing way that she did whenever there was a man around, moving her hips so that her dress would swing around her legs. Lulu ducked behind a palmetto tree so she wouldn’t be seen and continued watching as Peter and Cat strolled up the walk to the front door. Cat made an obviously fake stumble, but Peter didn’t seem to
notice that Cat wasn’t really hurt because he let her lean heavily on him before he seemed to give up and just lifted her under her legs like Jim had done to Lulu after her fall at the skating rink.

  Lulu looked around to see if Maggie was coming, but didn’t see her. She didn’t think she would be or else Cat wouldn’t be acting that way in front of Peter. Peering around the tree trunk, she saw Peter fumble to turn the doorknob while holding on to Cat, who’d wrapped her arms around his neck and seemed to be whispering something in his ear.

  Peter pushed the door open and stepped inside, but not before Cat lifted her head and turned in Lulu’s direction as if she knew somebody was watching them. Lulu ducked back behind the tree and didn’t look back until she heard the front door slam.

  Then she slid down to the base of the tree and opened her book, and began to read, making sure she had a good view of anybody entering or leaving the house. Because even though Cat was wrong about a lot of stuff, she’d been right about something: Lulu never missed a thing.

  CHAPTER 8

  FOLLY BEACH, SOUTH CAROLINA

  July 2009

  The glowing numbers of the clock by the side of the bed read three twenty-eight when Emmy awoke suddenly. She wasn’t sure what it was that had startled her awake; it was this still and dark at her parents’ house, too. But as she lay there staring toward the ceiling, she wondered if it could be the liquid feel of the air in the house where it lay between river marsh and ocean, taunting both with its existence. It made her feel vulnerable, as if the house’s pilings were no more than matchsticks, the water a crouching tiger.

  Emmy closed her eyes, smelling an unfamiliar detergent in her sheets, the white starkness giving no hint of anybody’s presence but her own. She sat up, sleep as lost to her now as Ben’s scent on her pillowcase, and then slid from the bed. The sky had cleared and the full moon bled from the ocean-side windows, casting a pale veil over the room. Slowly, Emmy walked to the French door that led to the back porch and walked through it to stand outside.