“You’re a dear to worry about such a thing, but Bennett is too set in his ways to be a father. I already have eight grandchildren. I can hardly keep up with their birthdays as it is.”
They sat in silence.
When the boat bounced through a series of waves, Lucille and Midge ducked their heads to avoid getting wet, but they got sprayed with salt water anyway. Laughing it off, Lucille disappeared inside the cabin and returned with a stack of towels.
After they’d dried themselves, Lucille said, “The way I hear it, you and Bennett have big plans for the future. You’ll give birth to your boutique agency, nurture it, and watch it grow. Your business will be the glue that holds your marriage together.”
“I hadn’t thought about it like that, but you’re right. We’ll have our business to focus on just as we would a child.” Midge liked this woman’s way of thinking. Bennett couldn’t be all bad with a mother like Lucille. She’d explained away many of Midge’s concerns. Except one. “Virginia and Sara mentioned additional scandals involving Bennett, but they didn’t elaborate. Are these incidents anything I need to worry about?”
“There are no other scandals that I’m aware of. I think Virginia and Sara were trying to scare you off. I hope they haven’t succeeded.”
“They gave me plenty to think about, for sure. Next time I won’t listen to them. But you’ve alleviated all my fears. Thank you for being so candid. You’ve really helped me see Bennett in a different light.”
“Anytime, my dear. I want what’s best for my son. And you’re the best thing that’s come his way in a long time.”
#
Midge and Lucille rode in silence for the next thirty minutes, enjoying the passing scenery and the wind whipping through their hair. They set anchor at the tip of Morris Island. Bennett stripped off his T-shirt and dove off the stern. Giggling, Midge slipped out of her cover-up and jumped in after him. They paddled and floated and splashed each other while his parents sipped Prosecco with their faces tilted toward the sun.
Midge couldn’t remember a more pleasant Fourth of July. And she still had Lula’s party to look forward to that night. Back at the dock, after Bennett and Midge had helped his parents spray down the boat and carry the picnic baskets to the car, Midge offered Lucille a parting hug and kiss on the cheek. Lucille whispered in her ear, “Don’t be a stranger. I realize my son is complicated. Call or come see me anytime with your concerns.”
With the party starting in less than an hour, to save on time, Midge volunteered to share her shower with Bennett—a first for the shy woman who refused to make love with the light on. By the time they dressed—her in a white maxi dress cut way down in the back, and him in seersucker slacks and a white Vineyard Vines polo—and drove out to Sullivan’s Island, the party was already in full swing.
Bennett circled the block two times in his BMW before he found a place to park in front of a neighbor’s house down the street. They joined the other attendees on the lawn behind Lula’s house. With the bluegrass band playing in the background, they sipped vodka martinis and chatted with old friends while casting frequent nervous glances at the darkening sky. When the caterer rang the bell for dinner a few minutes before six, they made their way up to the porch to stand in line for the buffet.
Bennett leaned down and whispered in her ear. “It’s getting ready to storm like a son of a bitch. Where will all these people go?”
Midge reached behind her and hugged his neck. “Don’t worry. There’s plenty of room inside. I’m sure Lula has a rain plan.” She searched the crowd. “And speaking of our hostess, I haven’t seen her yet.”
“I’m sure she’s here somewhere. It’s hard to find anyone in this mob scene. How many people did you say she invited?”
“I didn’t say. I have no clue.” As she continued to search for Lula, she spotted Georgia at the end of the line behind them. Lang, the cheating bastard, was standing next to her. He didn’t deserve someone as wonderful as Georgia. Midge should have told Georgia the very afternoon she encountered Lang and Mrs. Jones at the airport hotel. Instead she’d let her fears and insecurities cloud her judgment. She’d been a coward. Not just in the situation with Georgia and Lang but also in her relationship with Bennett. But all that was going to change.
Lucille’s confidence in her had restored her faith in herself. She would tell Georgia about Lang. Not tonight. She wouldn’t ruin the party for everyone. But after they finished eating, she would find Georgia and invite her over for tea for tomorrow.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Georgia
Georgia desperately wanted to forgive her husband. Lang had broken it off with Tee-na the very same night she discovered his affair and spent every free moment of the next six days showering her with attention. He brought her flowers and chocolates home from work. He took her out for romantic candlelit dinners. He even bought her the diamond tennis bracelet she’d fancied for so long. Most nights, with the air conditioning turned down low, they sat in front of the fire in the study sipping red wine until the wee hours of the morning, reminiscing about years past and searching for answers of where things went wrong in their marriage.
“Somewhere along the way, home became a chaotic and confusing place for me,” Langdon had told Georgia that first night. “That’s normal, of course, for a household with two active teenage boys. Richard and Martin were either racing off to their next event, or their friends were camped out in our family room. They had a different crisis every day—a college application was due, or the coach wasn’t giving them enough playing time, or some girl broke one of their hearts. You were always right there in the middle of the turmoil, feeding them and counseling them and letting them cry on your shoulder. I felt like an intruder. I got to the point where I didn’t want to come home anymore. I needed somewhere to decompress after a long day in the operating room, so I turned to a nurse, young and unmarried, who was willing to share her quiet apartment with me.”
Active teenage boys? Georgia was taken so off guard, she didn’t know how to respond. Her boys were now in their late twenties, which meant her husband had been having extramarital affairs for more than ten years. Had she been too busy raising her sons to notice? She wondered about the who and the where and the how many, but deep down she didn’t really want to know. Knowing her husband had slept with even one pretty young nurse with a tight body and unlined face crushed her self-esteem. She couldn’t bear to think about there being more of them, perhaps even dozens. He claimed to be a sex addict. Did that mean he picked up women in bars for one-night stands? The threat that he may have contracted a sexually transmitted disease was something to think about before she jumped back in the sack with him. Fortunately, their sex life had been almost nonexistent for months.
Langdon readily agreed to accompany Georgia to Lula’s Fourth of July party. He even seemed pleased with the prospect of seeing Phillip again after so long. “I always enjoy his dry sense of humor,” Langdon said, despite the many times he’d called Lula’s husband a complete bore.
They were among the first to arrive at the party. Georgia was surprised, and more than a little worried, not to find either Lula or Phillip out on the lawn greeting their guests. “I hope nothing’s wrong,” she said to her husband.
“I’m sure they’re busy taking care of last-minute details.” Langdon surveyed the scene, his face lighting up when he caught sight of the bar set up on the porch. “Why don’t I grab us some cocktails. I think the holiday calls for gin and tonics.”
Georgia watched her husband stride across the lawn to the porch. He stepped in line behind a gorgeous blonde, placing his hand gently on her shoulder. Who did he think he was kidding? He wasn’t interested in a gin and tonic. The attraction at the bar was Sharon Parker, who tilted back her coiffed head and presented a smooth cheek for him to kiss. Sharon had spent some time with the plastic surgeon—that much was obvious—and the results were stunning. She smiled at something Langdon said, but when his hand slid down her cobalt-blue silk s
heath to her rear end, her expression turned to stone, and she stepped away. She took her glass of white wine from the bartender and left the porch. Sharon scanned the crowd until she spotted Georgia and hurried over.
“I take it you saw that,” she said.
Georgia cleared her throat. “I saw it.” Dressed in white jeans and a red tunic, Georgia felt frumpy standing next to Sharon. Her body was every bit as toned as Sharon’s, the result of untold hours spent in the yoga studio. She should show more of it off by wearing low necklines and tight-fitting clothing. She made a mental note to go shopping on her next day off.
“Don’t take it personally, Georgia. Men assume they can hit on me because I’m divorced.”
Georgia had always envied Sharon’s direct personality. She envied a lot of things about her, actually. Sharon was an artist whose contemporary works had grown in popularity in recent years. She’d opened a gallery downtown that showcased not only her paintings but works from other local artists as well. She was doing a lot of things right if her radiant glow was any indication.
“What’s it like being divorced?” Georgia responded, the words slipping out before she could stop herself. “I don’t mean to pry, but you look so happy. You seem so put together. Do you ever get lonely?”
Sharon let out a loud laugh that attracted the attention of several people around them. She covered her mouth with her hand. “Sorry. The irony struck me as funny. The truth is, I’m not nearly as lonely now as I was when I was married. Sure, I crave companionship sometimes, but now I’m free to call up whoever I want to go for drinks or dinner or a movie. I don’t have to worry about anyone else but myself.
“Some divorcées can’t handle the freedom after raising their families and being at someone else’s beck and call for so many years. They don’t know what to do with themselves. But I found divorce liberating. Having a career has saved me. It helps to have a commitment that provides a challenge, occupies your time, and forces you to leave the house. Speaking of which, I heard you’re working at Tasty Provisions. I saw Heidi in the kitchen on my way in. She’s a character.”
“She is that.” Georgia glanced around, wondering why she hadn’t seen Heidi. “I’m managing her showroom; nothing nearly as impressive as being an artist, but it offers all those things you mentioned. Don’t you ever worry about growing old alone?”
“Sometimes. But I have no control over that. What’s with all the questions? Are you thinking about divorcing Lang? I can’t say I blame you, after what just happened up there.” Sharon dipped her head in the direction of the bar, where Langdon was chatting up yet another pretty woman. “Who’s he talking to, by the way? I don’t think I know her.”
“I have no idea, but she’s not his type. He prefers them right out of college.”
Sharon touched her arm. “I’m sorry, honey. Divorce is never easy.”
The old Georgia, the Georgia of a week ago, would never have betrayed her husband by talking about their problems at home. But the new Georgia was beginning to understand she didn’t owe anything to anyone but herself. “Was it hard on your children when you got divorced?”
“Ha. My boys were both in college at the time. They were so self-absorbed they hardly noticed we weren’t together anymore.” She tilted her head to the side. “Okay . . . so maybe it bothered them a little bit, especially around the holidays. They’re all grown now with children and careers of their own. We all get along fine.”
Georgia saw Langdon headed their way, a gin and tonic in each hand. “Thanks, Sharon, for talking to me. I don’t even know you that well.”
“I sometimes find it easier to talk to people who’ve been through similar situations as me, regardless of whether I’m close to them or not. They know just the right thing to say because they’ve already walked in those shoes.” Sharon leaned in and pressed her cheek to Georgia’s. “Feel free to call me anytime.”
#
Georgia was taking her first sip of the gin and tonic when Lizbet appeared in front of her and greeted Langdon with a smile. Georgia knew that Lizbet and Brooke secretly referred to her husband as Dr. Dog. How fitting given the circumstances.
Lizbet pulled Georgia aside. “I hate to ask you, but is there any way you can help us in the kitchen for a minute?” Strands of hair had fallen loose from her ponytail and were plastered to her sweaty forehead. Her eyes darted back and forth between the crowd and the black clouds. “Heidi wants to serve dinner before the storm hits, which could be any minute based on the way the sky looks. We just need help preparing the trays and getting them on the table.”
“I’d be happy to help, but you need to take a deep breath.” She squeezed Lizbet’s arm. “Everything’s gonna be just fine. The best parties I’ve attended have been interrupted by thunderstorms. You run along back inside, and I’ll be right there.”
Once Lizbet was gone, Georgia turned back to Langdon. “If you’ll excuse me for a minute, I’m needed inside.”
His expression grew dark. “What do you mean you’re needed inside? Is Lula having some sort of crisis?”
“I haven’t even seen Lula. But Heidi needs me. I won’t be long.” She started off, but he grabbed her by the elbow, dragging her back.
“You’re a guest at this party, not the hired help,” he whispered loudly in her ear.
“Here. You finish this.” She thrust the gin and tonic at him, spilling a little of the liquid on his hot-pink polo shirt. “I’m sure you can find someone to talk to. There are lots of pretty women around, although they may all be too old for you.” She felt his eyes follow her as she paraded across the grass with her head held high, her chest stuck out, and her hips swaying.
Heidi’s crew had taken over the kitchen, with every individual engaged in a different task. But Lula was nowhere in sight. Georgia donned an apron and jumped into the assembly line of workers transferring food items from plastic containers to serving dishes. She noticed Phillip in the corner of the main room talking to Brooke and an exquisite young woman she didn’t recognize. I hope Langdon doesn’t set his sights on that pretty young thing. The minute the thought entered her head, Georgia knew with absolute certainty her marriage was over.
Two servers circled the crowd with trays of ham biscuits and bite-size pimento cheese sandwiches. The three remaining workers managed to get the food onto the tables in record time. Heidi rang her dinner bell, and Phillip offered grace. After a brief blessing, he swept his hand at the dark sky. “I’ve spent the last twenty-three summers on Sullivan’s Island, and I’m here to tell you we’re about to have a humdinger of a storm. I encourage everyone to get a plate and come on inside. There’s plenty of room. You’re welcome to try your luck on the porch, but if the wind starts to blow like I think it’s gonna blow, you’ll probably get drenched.”
The crowd gravitated toward the porch, lining up single file for their turn at the food table. Georgia took off her apron and joined her husband at the back of the line. He leaned down and whispered, “Why don’t we get out of here? I’d rather fix an omelet at home than deal with this mob scene.”
“Go home if you want, but I’m not leaving. I see Midge and Bennett over there. I can get a ride home with them.”
He hung his head. “No, I’ll stay,” he said in a tone that sounded irritated for the first time in six days.
Georgia and Langdon followed Phillip’s suggestion and took their plates inside. They made their way through the crowded room to where Midge and Bennett stood against the far wall. Juggling their plates, they greeted one another with kisses and handshakes. When the two men launched into a conversation about boating, Midge turned to Georgia. “I’ve missed seeing you.” She leaned in so Georgia could hear her over the noise of the crowd. “Any chance you’re free tomorrow for tea? I have something important I need to talk to you about.”
“I have to work until six, if that’s not too late. We can substitute the tea for wine.”
“Wine at six it is.” Midge offered her a warm smile with a hint of som
ething Georgia interpreted to be pity. Did Midge know something about her husband’s philandering? Was that the something important she needed to talk to her about? Georgia dismissed the idea. Her best friend would have told her if she’d heard something about her cheating husband.
“I haven’t seen Lula all night;, have you?” Midge asked.
Georgia shook her head. “I’ve been looking for her, too. I noticed her bedroom door is closed. I hope she’s not sick.”
“I have a feeling it has something to do with them.”
Georgia followed Midge’s gaze to the corner of the room where Brooke stood with the same exquisite creature she’d seen her with earlier. Something about the way they looked at each other, the way their bodies were pressed close together against the wall, gave Georgia the impression they were more than just friends. “Surely you don’t think . . .”
“That Brooke is gay? That’s exactly what I think. I’d be willing to bet that Brooke dropped this little bombshell on her family as recently as today. Considering Lula’s absence, Brooke’s puffy, red eyes, and Lizbet sulking around like she lost her puppy dog.”
Georgia paused as she contemplated Midge’s theory. “Phillip seems fine. Then again, Phillip’s range of emotions is restricted to fine.” She slumped against the wall. “Poor Lula. She’s not likely to handle this development well.”
“Why sugarcoat it? This news will destroy her. Lula doesn’t understand our generation, let alone their generation. Hell, I don’t understand that generation, and I consider myself a forward-thinking woman.”
For the next few minutes, while they picked at their food and the men talked on about boats, Midge and Georgia watched the two young women in the corner. They rarely touched, aside from an occasional brush of a hand against a shoulder, but their body language gave them away.
Sweet Tea Tuesdays Page 11
