LF47 - Love Finds You in Folly Beach, South Carolina

by Loree Lough

  She closed her eyes. “Yes, yes I do.” Then, “Parker?”

  He stepped up beside the bed, looking as haggard and ragged as if he’d just completed a 15K run. “I’m right here, Mom. You just concentrate on getting through this,” he said, his voice foggy with tears. “And after that, you’ll concentrate on getting better. The rest…” His voice cracked with emotion. “The rest will sort itself out.”

  Maybe Hank had been wrong and this sad yet calm demeanor meant that Parker would be all right, after all. That he wouldn’t need to resort to fury and self-imposed seclusion to cope with the awful news. Maude doesn’t deserve a son like him, Holly thought. And more than ever, she wanted to talk to her own mother, who didn’t have a selfish bone in her body, who’d never done anything but love her child with all her heart. If a little nagging and scolding were part of her mothering tactics, well, Holly would gladly, gratefully, accept it from now on.

  “Love you, Mom,” Parker said and kissed her cheek.

  “You too,” she said as the orderlies rolled her toward the OR suite.

  “Doc Williams will send somebody out to update you,” said the biggest orderly as the doors closed.

  “Did either of you get a chance to eat while you were gone?” Holly asked.

  “Had a couple cookies,” Hank said.

  “And I grabbed an apple.”

  “Well, that’s no good. No good at all.” She linked arms with each and led them to the elevator. “We’re going to the diner,” she said, “and I won’t take no for an answer. I saw chicken soup on the menu, and my mouth has been watering for a bowl ever since.”

  “Soup,” Parker said. “But it’s 80 degrees outside.”

  “If memory serves, the diner is air conditioned.”

  She pretended not to see when they exchanged an “Oh, brother” look over her head. Her goal right now was getting their minds off Maude. Off the horrible story. If she had to swing from the diner’s hanging lamps and chatter like a chimp, she’d do it.

  And, God willing, she wouldn’t do something clumsy and further complicate poor Parker’s life.

  * * * * *

  Parker wasn’t sure how Holly managed to talk him into going to the beach, but now that he was here, it felt good, felt right. The volunteers who’d combed the sand during daylight hours, clearing weeds and any debris that washed ashore, had handed their batons over to others who walked softly and carefully, making sure nothing got in the turtles’ way as they lumbered from the water to make their nests.

  Like the volunteers, Holly stood still and silent beside him. All around them, a light June breeze blew in from the east. It felt good, felt right too, even though everything in him told him it should feel anything but. She’d witnessed the most humiliating moment of his life. If he had a lick of pride left, he’d send her packing, book or no book. What was it she said? he asked himself. That if I could survive combat and war wounds, I could survive anything? That might be laughable…if it wasn’t so doggoned sad.

  Holly grabbed hold of his arm and used her free hand to point toward the clear black sky. “Look,” she whispered, “isn’t that Delphinus?”

  He stared into the inky heavens and shook his head. “Sorry, I’m not up on constellations.”

  She moved closer still, saying, “It represents the dolphin. California’s Chumash tribe said it means ‘to go in peace and protect.’ The way their legend goes, when they were getting ready to migrate to the mainland, their grandmother built them a rainbow bridge. Hutash warned them not to look down while crossing or they’d fall into the sea and drown. Some couldn’t help themselves, and because she loved them so, Hutash turned them into dolphins before they hit the water.”

  “Really.”

  She nodded. “Early Christians called it ‘Job’s Coffin,’ and the Arabs named it ‘Riding Camel.’ In Australia, the Aborigine see the dolphin as a wise older brother, swimming the world’s oceans to guide and protect their siblings who’ve chosen to go through life in human form. To this day, killing one is considered sacrilege.”

  “Isn’t all this mythological stuff sacrilege?”

  “Well, sure it is, if you believe it. I just think it’s fascinating, all the tall tales God’s stars inspire. This one especially, since it’s not particularly big or bright.” Using his fingertip, she drew the dolphin’s outline. “Now that you’ve seen her, you’ll never forget where to find her.”

  “Her?”

  Holly harrumphed. “Well, if you can call your boat and your pickup a her, I think it’s all right for me to refer to a star formation that way.”

  Despite all that had happened that day, Parker chuckled quietly. “Good point.” Then, movement up ahead caught his attention— a giant sea turtle, plodding across the sand. “Look,” he whispered, “isn’t that a loggerhead?”

  He didn’t just hear her gasp, he felt it as Holly pressed closer. “Isn’t it just magnificent? I’ve seen it before, six or eight times, and it never fails to mystify me.”

  As though he’d been doing it for years, Parker’s arm slid around her waist. “That’s an odd word to describe it.”

  She gave a little shrug. “I suppose. But the whole life cycle, from egg to hatchling to turtle that makes this demanding trip a dozen times in her lifetime, using the exact same route…maybe miraculous is a better word.”

  “What kind of scientist are you,” he asked, laughing softly, “talking God and miracles? I thought y’all were into disproving everything religious and spiritual.”

  “That’s true for some,” she admitted. “Their loss.”

  “How so?”

  “I’d think that believing only in things that can be validated and verified would be a very cold and lonely way to live. It’s comforting to know that God’s love is all around us. Like up there,” she said, pointing at the constellation again. She aimed that dainty finger at the Atlantic and then at the turtle making slow but steady progress toward a sand mound. “And there and there.” She put herself in front of him and pressed her palms over his heart. “And there.”

  No, he wanted to say, God isn’t in me. Especially now, with all the angry, hateful thoughts hammering at his brain. But she was looking up at him, big eyes aglow with hope and faith. She really believed every word she’d said, and Parker didn’t have the heart to take that from her. If he uttered so much as a syllable that diminished her beliefs, he was no better a human being than Maude.

  He hoped she was resting comfortably, getting better, breath by breath, because—

  “I wonder how your mom is doing?”

  Man, it was unsettling, the way she seemed to be able to read his mind! “She’s fine, I’m sure.” After the reparative surgery, and after she came around in the recovery room, Dr. Williams had assured them all was well, especially considering that the leakage hadn’t been a harbinger of a bigger problem, but the result of Maude’s getting out of bed to pour herself a cup of water. Now that the staff knew that she was the type who’d sneak around, dismissing doctor’s orders, they had tied her to the bed. “Provided that she hasn’t undone her bindings,” he finished.

  Holly frowned and shook her head. “I’m sure she didn’t mean to cause any trouble, getting out of bed. She probably just wanted to spare everyone the bother of waiting on her. Before her foot surgery, she was pretty independent.”

  Independent? Not if he counted the hundreds of things she was always asking him to do around the cottage and the errands she was forever getting Hank to run. A random thought slammed into his brain: why had it been so easy to believe that his father had died while testing a fighter jet? If he’d questioned the story at some point, maybe—

  “Are you thinking we should get back there, to make sure she’s all right?”

  “No.” He didn’t have the stomach or the patience to fake something amiable with Maude just now. She’d deprived him of a relationship with his father. She’d lied to Daniel too. The man didn’t even know he had a son. If he’d known, what sort of father would
he have been?

  Frustrated and furious, Parker exhaled a shaky breath. “No, let’s give her the night to rest up.” Hopefully, by morning, he’d have summoned the backbone to put on a good front. Because despite the lies—or maybe because of them—she was the only family he had in the world. He’d never been angrier, not even on the battlefield, when the enemy, believing they had Right on their side, literally tried to kill him and his fellow soldiers. But he wanted to see Maude healthy again. If for no other reason than to find out if his legal last name was Brant or if she’d lied about that too.

  The turtle had found a sweet spot in the sand by now, and those back flippers were all business, flicking sand in a high, wide arc to create her nest. Before long she’d have a hole deep enough, and she’d deposit her eggs, one atop the other, and cover them over. Pure instinct drove her, and it would drive her back into the Atlantic too. It wouldn’t inspire a backward glance, and she wouldn’t give the eggs another thought. In her mind, she’d fulfilled her maternal duties and was now free to go back to looking out for her own best interests as she encountered sharks, boat propellers, fishermen’s nets, and other dangers lurking in the ocean.

  It wasn’t a particularly flattering comparison, but the loggerhead reminded Parker of Maude, whose single-minded struggle for survival overshadowed her son’s needs. She’d provided the necessities: a roof over his head, food, clothes. How much of that had come from love for him…and how much was to protect her own reputation from the gossipmongers who waited for the single mother to make a mistake?

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Holly said, interrupting his thoughts.

  “Don’t mean to be. Sorry.”

  “I didn’t bring it up to elicit an apology. I know you have a lot on your mind. I just want you to know that when you’re ready to talk about it…”

  He nodded and turned slightly then drove both hands deep into his jeans pockets. “I know. Thanks.”

  She linked her arm with his and started walking. He fell into step beside her, and for the second time that night, it felt good, felt right. But what hope of a future did he have with someone like Holly, who grew up in a house filled with family members who genuinely cared about one another? Whose faith in a Supreme Being gave her comfort even during those dark hours after she’d lost the love of her life? She’d expect things like that from him, but he didn’t have them. Didn’t know if he could find it in himself to get them. Didn’t have a clue where to look for them if he did.

  “Maude… She…” She huffed and started again. “I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, considering—”

  Considering she’d lived a lie for thirty-two years and dragged me into it?

  “—but Maude loves you, Parker.”

  Bitter laughter burned in his throat, but he bit it back. He recited his turtle analogy for her. Maybe that would help her understand how he saw Maude’s capacity for love. By the time he finished, they were standing at the end of the flagstone walk leading to her cottage. She must have seen him looking a few hundred yards farther down the beach, where the dim lights of his own house glowed.

  “Are there any eggs in your fridge?”

  “I’m pretty sure.”

  “Bread and butter?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sausage? Bacon or ham?”

  “Both, I think.” It seemed weird, talking about food right now. A spin-off on the old adage that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach? Maybe she believed a big country breakfast would distract him from his troubles. “Look, Holly, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but—”

  “Whoa,” she said, cutting him off. “If you think for one minute I’m asking on your behalf, you’ve got another think coming. Night air gives me an appetite, I guess, because I’m famished.”

  He didn’t believe that any more than he believed that the loggerhead would come back in a day or two to make sure nothing had disturbed her babies. “Well, after all you’ve done today, I guess the least I can do is feed you.”

  She looked up at him and, seeing his grin, smiled. Relief coursed through him, and Parker decided to hold onto it for as long as it lasted, knowing it was temporary at best.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Holly stuck her head in the fridge and began stacking breakfast fixings in her arms. “Why don’t you take a long, hot shower while I fix us something to eat?”

  “Holy mackerel,” he said as the coffeemaker sputtered, “aren’t you good for a guy’s ego.”

  She turned so quickly to see his face that she nearly dropped everything. “That wasn’t a subtle hint that you need a shower. I just thought—”

  “I know.” He grinned. “But just for clarity’s sake, that wasn’t a subtle hint.”

  Relieved that she hadn’t insulted him, or worse, hurt his feelings, Holly plopped her load onto the counter. “I don’t suppose it was, was it?”

  “It’s a good idea, though, and I think I’ll take you up on it.” With a wave of his hand, Parker said, “Mi casa, su casa. Anything you need, just help yourself.”

  What she needed, Holly decided when he rounded the corner, were ideas. Solid, foolproof plans that she could put into play in the days and weeks to come to help him cope with the awful mess Maude had made of their lives.

  Opening and closing lower cabinet doors, she found two frying pans and began layering bacon in the largest. While it warmed up, she dropped a pat of butter into the smaller one. She turned down the heat as she remembered how Parker had compared his mom to the loggerheads. It made her cringe, hearing him say that, mostly because he wasn’t totally off base. Holly couldn’t think of a scenario that would prompt her own mother to so much as consider doing anything that might hurt her child.

  He kept his plates right where she’d stored hers in the Ocean City condo, and in her Ellicott City townhouse too…in the cupboard above the silverware drawer. Gathering what she’d need to set the table, Holly glanced at the ship’s clock above the sink. It was too late to call home now, but first thing tomorrow, she’d make time. And between now and then, she’d pray that God would give her the words to make sure her folks knew how much she loved and appreciated them. Maybe they’d agree to drive to South Carolina for a long weekend. She knew firsthand that none of Maude’s guest rooms would be rented over the July Fourth holiday… .

  Four slices of bread stood at the ready in the toaster, and beside the stove were serving plates for the bacon and eggs. He didn’t have enough juice for two full servings, so she swirled a drop into one glass and stood it beside her plate. That way, when he sat down, he’d think she’d already downed hers and she wouldn’t need to explain why she didn’t want to divvy it up equally. He’d been deprived of enough in his lifetime. If she could provide him with a full ration of something, Holly intended to do it!

  The only thing left to do was fry the eggs and pour the coffee. Well, that and to come up with something bland yet un-boring to talk about so that he could eat the meal without getting heartburn. No way he’d get a decent night’s sleep with heartburn to cope with on top of Maude’s bulletin.

  While looking for napkins, she’d noticed a tiny white container of Maude’s pain-reliever-sleep-aid pills. Maybe, she thought, smirking, she should crush one up and enforce a good night’s sleep. Then she shook her head. What was she thinking? That wouldn’t just be unfair to Parker, but wholly wrong, as well. If she resented the little bit of control her mom occasionally tried to exert, how much more would he resent it if she did something like that?

  She’d just have to trust God to get him through the rough times ahead. And possibly, in the process, he’d learn to trust Him too.

  Sighing, Holly poured herself a mug of coffee. Thankfully, he’d had just enough decaf to brew one pot. She’d seen a jar of instant decaffeinated tucked in behind the mugs. With any luck, they wouldn’t have to resort to using that, because if Parker felt the same way about the stuff as she did, well, she’d just as soon skip it.

  He padded into the kitc
hen just then, all six-two and towel-dried dark hair of him. My, but he looked handsome in his plain white T-shirt and baggy black jog pants. “Have a seat,” she said, pulling out the chair at the head of his table. “I just need to fry up the eggs and butter the toast.”

  He eased the spatula from her hand. “Why not let me do that while you make the toast?”

  The barest hint of a grin lifted the corners of his mouth. If only she could coax a full-blown smile onto that gorgeous face. Stories about her childhood had amused him in the past… .

  “I remember the very first time I ever cooked eggs. I was on a camping trip with all my cousins and—”

  “How many cousins?”

  “Off the top of my head, I’d say, twelve? Fifteen? Ranging in age from, oh, forty to thirty-two.”

  “Ah, so you’re the baby of the family. No wonder they hover.”

  Holly snorted. “That’s a lousy excuse for hovering if ever I heard one.”

  “All I know is, if I had a kid sister or little-girl cousin or whatever, and she was forever getting into trouble the way you are, I’d hover.”

  Like dominos toppling, Holly thought of all the ways she’d gotten into trouble just since arriving in Folly Beach. She dropped bread into the toaster and watched him crack an egg into the pan. “So let me tell you about the very first time I made eggs.”

  “I hate to be repetitive, but I think we’re gonna have to work on your subtlety.”

  We? Well, a girl could dream… .

  “Over easy, right?”

  Nodding, she grabbed the toasted slices as they popped up and began buttering each slice while he cracked the second egg.

  “How is it you know me so well already?”

  Already? They’d shared meals and coffee and hours, hunched over tall stacks of research notes, pounding out the book, one computer keystroke at a time. “I might not be big on subtlety,” she said with a smirk, “but I’ve honed my observation skills to a keen edge.”

  After carrying the toast to the table, Parker grabbed the coffee carafe, filled his empty mug, and topped off hers. Then, with one tine of a fork, he removed the bacon from the big skillet and laid the slices side by side on a paper towel–covered plate.