On Folly Beach
Page 17
Maggie started walking but she broke into a run as soon as she could see the smile on his face and the sun glinting off his hair. He ran toward her, too, then dropped his shoes and jacket in the sand to embrace her. Their kiss was long and sweet, his tongue tasting hers as his arms pulled her closer to his body. And then his hands were cupping her face, his lips kissing her closed eyes, her cheeks, and her neck, and she knew in her heart that she would never let him go.
“Why are you crying?” he asked.
Maggie opened her eyes, surprised. “I . . . don’t know. I suppose it’s because I’m so happy to see you.” She buried her face in his neck and heard him sigh as he pulled her even closer to him. “I missed you.”
Still clinging to each other, they walked back toward the blanket, the wind lashing at them in impatient bursts. She smiled shyly at him. “I wasn’t sure you’d be here. Your letter said you’d be back on Folly at noon, but since I had no way of reaching you, I crossed my fingers and gave your landlady a message that I’d be here and hoped for the best.”
He leaned over and kissed her, and she wanted to cry again. “And so here I am.” He eyed the large wicker picnic basket. “I hope there’s food in there because I’m starving. Missing you seems to deplete all of my energy.”
She smiled up at him, chewing on her lower lip; then she knelt to begin unpacking the basket. “I made fried chicken and corn bread, but it’s unsweetened on account of the sugar rationing. And no Coca-Cola, either, for the same reason. But I made blackberry tea, which I think is very tasty, if I may say so myself.”
He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss. “If you made it with your own hands, then it will be more than sweet enough.”
She laughed at his silliness and handed him his plate of food, then watched as he ate it, her own plate untouched. She couldn’t believe he was there, with her, after being away for so long.
He paused in his chewing and swallowed. “Aren’t you hungry?”
Nodding, she took a bite of her chicken and washed it down with a sip of tea, not tasting a thing.
When they were finished eating, he rolled his jacket up for a pillow and lay back, pulling her up against him like nesting spoons. He kissed the back of her neck, and she thought she’d die from the pleasure of it. She reached for his hand, which was nestled at her waist, and squeezed it. “Don’t go again. Please. It gets harder and harder each time.”
“I know. I don’t like leaving you. But this is war, and we all must play our part, although I feel sure that the war will be over soon.”
She rolled a little to face him. “You sound so confident.”
He shrugged. “With the United States now fighting with England and its allies, I can’t imagine that it will go on much longer, that’s all.”
“I hope you’re right. I really hope you are.”
Leaning down, he kissed her nose, then lay back on the blanket. “So, tell me all the news from here. Don’t leave out anything; I want to feel as if I’ve lived it all with you.”
Smiling, Maggie snuggled into his chest. “I already mentioned the sugar rationing, and gas rationing is going to be right around the corner, I’m afraid. All lights have to be extinguished at midnight, and every house has mandatory blackout shades now. We’ve even started painting the top half of our headlights so no stray light can be seen out in the ocean.”
She felt him rub his chin against the back of her head. “Are they really taking a German threat that seriously?”
“Yes. We’ve been hearing reports from North Carolina and Florida about people standing on shore witnessing ships being blown out of the water. And then, for days, wreckage will wash up on the beaches. Oil slicks are the only things left to show where the ship had once been.”
“Is the coast guard doing anything about it?”
“All I know is what I hear on the radio or read in the newspaper—and that’s not a whole lot because I can’t stand hearing so much bad news, so I avoid it—but apparently we’re fighting the submarines with only a few ill-equipped coast guard cutters—mostly because the navy seems to be focused on the Japanese in the Pacific.”
“Coast guard cutters? Against German U-boats?”
“I don’t know what good they can do, and Mrs. Ellsworth at the post office says not enough because it seems the Germans are sinking oil tankers every day. Mr. Ickes—he’s the Secretary of the Interior and in charge of fuel resources—says that it will be a dire situation for the United States if we keep losing all that oil. Which is funny because the newspaper writer said that each tanker was just a small amount of our oil and would only temporarily affect a small section of the country.”
He kissed the back of her neck again. “It’s hard to know who to believe.”
She sighed and nestled closer. “But they’re taking the threat of an air attack pretty seriously in Charleston. They’re sandbagging the roofs of hotels and publishing the locations of refugee and casualty centers in the papers. They’ve gone so far as to designate public bomb shelters—in Charleston! Even here on Folly, they’ve started doing an air-raid siren every Saturday at noon so people will know what to do just in case of an airplane sighting. It’s all rather frightening.”
Peter was silent for a moment “And all of this is on speculation? Or has someone actually seen something to make the area feel threatened?”
“Not that I know of. Except several people did see an explosion out at sea, but we never found out exactly what it was, even though the navy said they were investigating. I think everyone’s just thinking it’s better to be safe than sorry.” A pair of sanderlings flew overhead, their pure white underbodies identifying them from their fellow shorebirds. “Cat’s going through training to be an aircraft spotter for the Ground Observer Corps. I think it will be good for her, to give her a purpose. She’s been so . . . lost, I suppose, ever since her mother died. It got worse after Jim was killed. I just . . .”
Peter squeezed her hand. “You just what?”
His voice was soft and reassuring, coaxing her into admitting something she’d never admitted, even to herself. “I want her to have a distraction that’s not self-destructive. That doesn’t involve . . . you.” She closed her eyes, glad her face was turned away from his.
“Me?”
“Cat’s very beautiful.”
Peter leaned close to her ear. “And what does that have to do with me?”
Maggie swallowed, and continued to keep her eyes closed. “Men are very attracted to her. They can’t seem to help themselves.” She felt a gentle pressure on her chin as Peter tilted her face toward him again, and she opened her eyes.
“Sweet Margaret, are you so blind that you can’t see your own beauty? I barely notice Cat when you’re in the room. You fill a space in my heart, and there’s no room in there for anybody else. Can you believe me, Margaret? Can you?”
She nodded, her throat too tight to speak. With his thumb pad, he wiped her cheeks, then kissed her gently on the lips. He lay back down beside her, and she sighed, losing herself in the warmth of his body beside hers.
“I was thinking about signing up to be a spotter, too, if only to keep my mind busy so that I don’t have to miss you as much.”
She felt his arms stiffen. “I know I have no right to say this, but I don’t want you put in harm’s way. When I’m away from you, I like knowing you are safe at home or your little shop, filled with books. I don’t know if I could bear knowing you were out in the elements, making yourself a target for the enemy.”
“But I really don’t think there’s any danger. Remember, nobody’s seen anything off the South Carolina coast.”
He squeezed her hand again. “Please, Margaret. I only ask this one thing so that I can continue to do my work for the war effort without worrying about you.”
She was touched by his need to see her safe. “Oh, Peter, if you really feel that way, I could find another way to serve my country.”
“You give discounts to the servicem
en who buy from your store, don’t you?”
Maggie nodded.
“That’s a service right there. Besides, doesn’t Lulu need you? She’s a sweet girl, but I can see how much she looks to you for guidance. Losing a mother isn’t easy, as we both know. Being around for her, and continuing to give discounts to those in uniform could be the best benefit you can give to our country.”
His words did have a certain logic to them, and she found herself agreeing for now. It felt so good to be in his arms that she didn’t want to argue and ruin the mood.
Peter must have felt the same way because he squeezed her again and asked, “Is there anything you need? Anything you can’t get here that I can bring to you next time?”
She thought for a moment, then shook her head. His concern and care for her had made her feel confident and flirtatious. “Only you,” she said, her lips smiling around the words.
His chest rumbled against her back as he laughed. “Did you save any of your old newspapers? I’d like to read them to catch up on the news I’ve missed.”
“Actually, I have quite a few. Lulu has gone a little crazy collecting bottles for her trees, and she uses the newspapers to wrap them in so they don’t get broken in storage.” Tilting her face toward him, she said, “I’ve been prattling on and on, but you’ve barely said a word. Tell me everything you’ve been doing. Every place you’ve been. Don’t skip anything. I want to be able to picture you living your life while we’re separated. That way, it won’t feel like we’re apart at all.”
He sighed heavily and pulled her closer to him. “It’s just that it’s all so boring, and to repeat it all to you would not only bore you to tears—it would also send me to sleep in the reliving of it. Suffice it to say that I went home to Iowa to meet with my father and discuss other products we might be able to make not just for the military, but for civilians, too. There’s a huge market right now for blackout shades and curtain materials that he wants me to look into. Everything else is a blur—I get in my car and drive from city to city, visiting accounts and asking lots of questions.” He kissed the back of her head. “Margaret, surely we can think of something else we’d rather do instead of talking about dull things.”
Maggie smiled up at him, allowing him a long, deep kiss, and she realized she no longer felt the wind or the cold. Peter sat up on his elbow, and looked over at the lighthouse, which had dominated the landscape on this end of the island since long before she was born.
“Where does the lightkeeper live?”
“There isn’t one anymore. Four years ago, they automated the light and dismantled all of the outbuildings so the debris wouldn’t be a hazard to boats. It’s kind of sad to know it’s empty, isn’t it?”
He studied the tall, striped structure for a long moment without speaking before turning back to her. “And you said people can still go inside, right?”
“Sure, although you only want to do it at low tide, or you’ll get stranded. You’re not supposed to, but you can climb all the way up.”
“Have you been to the top recently?”
Maggie closed her eyes, glad she wasn’t facing Peter. As a child she’d been in it many times, as one of the lightkeeper’s daughters had been a friend of hers. But after she’d grown up, she’d been inside only once, and that was with Jim. He’d wanted to see the ocean from the top of the lighthouse, so she’d taken him. They’d run up the winding black wrought-iron stairs, emerging onto the deck at the top, breathing heavily and laughing at how absurd they were to run like children, nearly killing themselves in the process.
Then, without warning, he’d kissed her, and by the time he’d pulled back, she’d known her heart had been snatched by the wind and given completely to him.
“Yes,” she said to Peter, “about a year ago.”
“Is it still safe then?”
“Safe enough, I suppose. Once a month a lighthouse tender comes to check the lens and make sure everything’s working, so he has to get up in the top. The door’s locked now, but when I came here last, I was with Cat’s husband, Jim. It was before he met her, and we . . . Well, it doesn’t matter now. Anyway, his father was a locksmith in Louisiana, and he knew how to open just about any lock.”
Maggie rolled over onto her back to look up at Peter. His face shaded hers from the murky sun as he looked down at her. “Did you love him?”
Maggie looked into Peter’s eyes, which had seemed so strange to her at first and now become what she dreamed of at night. Slowly, she nodded, and then, before she could stop herself, she said, “But not as much as I love you.”
The sky darkened as a black cloud moved over the sun, and Peter continued to stare down at Maggie, his expression unreadable. “Do you love me enough to wait for me?”
She sat up, leaning on her elbows. “What do you mean? Are you leaving again?”
Peter ducked his head and shook it. “Not right now. But later, I might have to leave suddenly and not have time to send word to you for a while. I just need to know that you’ll wait for me to come back for you.”
Maggie smiled nervously. “I don’t understand. What part of your business would make you have to leave without word to me?”
His hand cupped her cheek, his fingers sliding into her hair. “If I succeed in obtaining government contracts for anything sensitive, they won’t want me talking about it or letting anyone know where I’ve gone. It would be safer for you.”
She lowered herself to the blanket again, then lifted her arms, placing both hands behind his head and drawing him down toward her. “I promise, Peter, I’ll wait for you. Forever if I have to, but I’ll wait for you to come back for me.”
He lowered his lips to hers and pressed her against the blanket and the sand as the wind wrapped around them and the ocean continued its pulsing breath against the shore.
SITTING IN THE CLOSET, LULU flicked off the flashlight she was using to read when she heard the creak of the floorboard outside in the hallway. Cat’s schedule for when she was supposed to be spotting planes was taped to the icebox in the kitchen, and tonight was definitely not on the schedule, and her spotter cards, with the silhouettes of enemy planes to make recognition easier, were on the bureau in her bedroom. Still clutching the flashlight, Lulu pushed open the closet door and tiptoed out of the bedroom without awakening Maggie. Pausing at the top of the stairs, she waited until she heard the front door softly open and close before heading downstairs, avoiding all the squeaky spots she’d known since childhood. After quickly grabbing her coat from the coatrack, she slipped outside, her bare feet chilled in the evening air. She spotted Cat already halfway down the block and knew she wouldn’t have time to grab her shoes.
Navigating by the murky light of the moon, she ran behind Cat, being careful not to cry out each time she stepped on something sharp or stubbed her toe. Cat kept her flashlight aimed directly in front of her, but dipped low to the ground as if to light the way. She crossed West Ashley, then headed up toward Arctic, and Lulu realized they were moving in the direction of the pier and pavilion. It was too late for dancing, which just made Lulu even more suspicious.
They passed another pedestrian, and Lulu watched as Cat stepped back into the shadows to avoid being noticed. Lulu did the same, not really knowing why. She didn’t recognize the man, which wasn’t unusual anymore. It was odd to Lulu, who in the winter months had once known everyone. The summers had always brought strangers to Folly, but not now when the beaches were too cold and the wind could steal the hat from your head.
As Cat approached what was left of West Arctic, she began to slow and flipped off her flashlight. Lulu did the same, and immediately stumbled in the dark, letting out an accidental “Oomph.” Cat stopped and turned around, and Lulu ducked behind a palmetto tree, holding her breath until she heard Cat’s footsteps again crunching on sand and rocks.
Cat finally stopped on the beach in front of the abandoned houses, and Lulu stopped, too. They both stood like statues until Lulu started to shiver, her feet so num
b she knew they’d be blue if she could see them. She squatted, not taking her eyes off of Cat; then she sat on her bottom so she could tuck her feet under her coat. Lulu figured it had to be about four o’clock in the morning, and her eyelids kept wanting to close over her eyes but she forced them open. Nancy Drew would never fall asleep while spying on someone.
After a while, a brief flare like a match lit up and then vanished, followed shortly by the smell of cigarette smoke. Lulu frowned, knowing that Maggie would be upset that Cat was smoking. Maggie had been giving Cat bubble gum to chew on whenever she felt like having a cigarette, but now Folly’s Finds didn’t even have any gum because the army needed it more.
Lulu searched around on the ground around her with frozen fingers until she found a nice-sized rock. She stuck it under her hip so that she’d be too uncomfortable to fall asleep, and then continued to watch as Cat stood against a fence post and lit another cigarette.
Despite the rock, Lulu must have dozed because she found herself waking with a start, and wondering what it was that had changed. She looked over to where Cat had stood and realized she was gone.
Struggling to stand on feet that were most likely frostbitten by now, she stumbled through the dark, afraid to turn on her flashlight and using the dim glow from the sky to light her way, being careful to stick to the shadows to avoid being seen. She spotted Cat near the waterline, looking up at the first abandoned beach house, and Lulu began to get worried. She’d secretly read Maggie’s copy of Anna Karenina and knew what women sometimes did when they couldn’t be with the men they loved. Not that Cat had shown any sadness when Jim died, but maybe Maggie was right and that was just a show that she put on for everyone when she was in public.
Lulu stopped abruptly, her mind spinning in circles. What if Cat was going to drown herself? Would it really be such a bad thing? She wasn’t a nice person, and she made Maggie upset. Lulu breathed heavily, her breath a silent cloud rising above her until it disappeared. She stood still as she watched Cat stop to remove her shoes.