“I have a pitcher of tea on the table and some fresh baked cookies. Does anyone want cookies?” Cookies got Jake’s attention, and he looked up.
“We’d love some.” Sandy hugged her again. “And then we’ll unload the car. I want to take us all to Le Chez for dinner tonight.” Sandy licked the sugar off her fingers from the cookie she ate. Her mother’s sugar cookie was the best she had ever eaten. Sandy tried to duplicate the recipe but never with the same success as her mother.
“Oh, that is so expensive! Let’s just eat here.” Martha smiled at her grandchildren quietly eating cookies.
“Billie is singing tonight, and I want to hear her. She only sings on the weekends. If we go early, we can sit on the deck and listen to our favorite jazz singer, and Jake might get enough shrimp to fill him up.”
“I can eat a bunch,” he said around the sugar cookie and smiled. At least he still smiled about food.
“Okay, we’ll eat in tomorrow night then.” Martha refilled Sandy’s glass with tea.
Sandy knew her mother didn’t have a lot of money but was comfortable. However, when three more people invaded her house, it could cause a strain on the food budget. Especially when one tween had the appetite of a professional football player.
Chapter 7
The four of them walked the few blocks on dirt roads to the small restaurant, and Sandy opened the door to Le Chez. The smell of garlic bread and shrimp scampi hit her. Did they have garlic in heaven? Sam, the owner and chef, stood in the door to the kitchen fanning himself. When he saw Sandy, he broke into a grin she could see across the darkened room. He walked quickly to her with his hands out.
“Hurricane Sandy!” He was the only one besides her crew members who ever called her that. He hugged her warmly and then Carol and Martha. Jake stuck out his hand quickly for Sam to shake. She’d made him leave the electronics at home. The boy was smart and could be sociable if he needed to. “And Master Jake.” Sam beamed. “So good to see all of you. Carol, you are getting prettier every day, and Martha, we don’t see much of you anymore.”
“Well, we’re here for the week, and we wanted to pay you, and the local talent, a visit.” Sandy touched the top of her daughter’s head, smoothing her hair back out of her face.
“If you’re on the island for a week, you’d better be in my restaurant several times then.” Sam hugged Sandy again. “So beautiful,” he said, holding her at arms-length. “Come, I’ve saved you a table up front near the jazz singer. She has already started, but I know she can’t wait to see you.”
Billie was belting out a Billie Holiday song when they walked out onto the deck. She saw her friend and waved as they were seated up front near the stage. She finished her song and spoke into the mic.
“My good friend Major Sandra Miller and family!” Billie, gesturing to the table where Sandy and family were sitting, then broke into her rendition of Billie Holiday’s famous God Bless the Child.
“She’s good, Mom.” Carol looked with adoring eyes at her mother’s friend decked out in a shimmery aqua gown looking like a mermaid.
“How come she sings here, Mom? Why not in Corpus Christi or something. She really is good.” Jake agreed with something his sister said and could make intelligent conversations without the constant electronics. She needed to put a limit on them. In a busy family, distractions were often ignored.
“She used to, but now she’s home again.” Sandy felt unsure how much information to give her kids about Billie.
“Well, she needs to go back.” Jake said, playing with his napkin. “I mean this seems like a waste. She could be on Broadway.”
Sandy looked at her son, so pragmatic, like his father
“Why doesn’t she go back, Mom?” Carol looked again with adoring eyes at her mother’s friend on the stage.
“She lost her family in a car accident,” Sandy began, and her mother interrupted.
“And her mother is sick, so she is looking after her too.”
“Well, if I could sing like that, I’d go to Broadway and not stay home to look after my mom!” Jake shrugged and dropped the napkin back in its place.
“Jake! I’m surprised at you. Your mother works very hard for you and if she needed you, I would think you’d be there to help her, too.” Martha looked sternly at her only grandson.
“I’m sorry, Grandma. I just thought maybe someone else could look after her mom, is all.”
The waiter appeared as if by magic and handed around the menus and a basket of homemade yeast rolls. Jake ordered the all-you-could-eat shrimp.
After dinner Billie still sang. Sandy, stuffed with seafood, raptly listening to her friend, and wondering where she got that talent, realized she was unaware of those around her. Her mother placed a hand on her arm and nodded at Carol dozing off at the table. Jake fidgeted after eating an entire ocean of shrimp, and Sandy knew she needed to take the kids home.
“I’ll take them home. You stay until she’s finished. You two need to catch up.” Martha stood and jostled Carol. “Come on sweetie, let’s go home.”
“Is she finished?” Carol rubbed her eyes and looked up.
“Not yet, but soon. Come on we’ll walk home.” Martha took her granddaughter’s arm, and Sandy knew she had kept the kids out too late.
“I’ll be home soon, Mom.” She kissed her daughter and patted her son on the shoulder as they walked out through the restaurant.
The last song sung, Sandy moved to the stage to help Billie put things away. Sam appeared as if by magic waking the drunk in the back and escorting him out the door. He then stepped up on the small stage.
“My two favorite women.” He smiled. “Have a drink with me?”
“You know I can’t have anything, Sam. But Sandy might.” Billie raised her eyebrows at her friend asking.
“Maybe one, if we all sit down together.” Sandy knew Billie could not drink with her meds.
Sam miraculously produced a bottle of chardonnay and two wine glasses. He nodded at a waiter for a glass of tea for Billie.
Sandy sat down and kicked off her shoes, leaning back in her chair. The waves rolled in and the light breeze blew through her hair. She leaned forward, took a sip and looked at her best friend from school.
“How are you? You look and sound great! Are you really as good as you seem?” Sandy eyed her friend looking for a sign she was as relaxed as she appeared.
“Maybe. I think so, and then sometimes I’m not so sure. But your kids…” She shook her head and tried not to cry. “They are so wonderful!”
“Well, sometimes they are!” Sandy brushed the hair out of her face. “They’re great. I love them. But like I said, sometimes…”
Both women giggled as Sam sat down between them. “What’s so funny?” he asked turning the chair around and sitting with it between his legs.
“Kids. They can be a handful.” Sandy took another sip.
“Well, you’ve got a couple of keepers,” Sam said.
“I know I do. And how are the two of you? Still keeping the island going, I see.” Sandy sipped again.
“Sure.” Sam wiped the sweat from his brow. “Still chasing clouds?”
“Oh, you know it.” The three old friends talked into the night, and then Sandy found Billie leaning on her elbow like her daughter. She seemed to be wearing everyone out tonight. Swallowing the last of the wine, she stood and took her friend by the elbow. “You need to go home and so do I. I’ll be here for the week and plan to see both of you a lot. Sam, thank you for the drink. So good to see you again.” She kissed him on the top of his head and walked barefoot off the deck, shoes in hand, into the sand with Billie in tow.
In the distance, she could see a skinny dog hanging around out back of the restaurant. Sam probably fed a stray. How it got to the island, she couldn’t even guess.
Strolling the direction they used to walk home from school, Sandy breathed deeply the island breeze. “I don’t know why I ever left this place.” But she knew why; there were very few careers
on Sandhill Island and none for a meteorologist. She could see Billie’s house in the distance and they walked into the yard. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She hugged her friend and then walked away.
Chapter 8
The smell of coffee and maple syrup woke Billie from a deep sleep. Raven had cooked breakfast again. With the window open, she could hear the gulls cry and smell the ocean breeze. Pulling on her cotton robe, she walked into the kitchen where her mother sat in the wheel chair at the kitchen table happily talking to Raven.
“Your pancakes are wonderful even when you eat them with a spoon.” The older woman stirred the concoction in the bowl in front of her. Raven poured milk and sugar into the coffee before placing it on the tray for Giselle, making sure the beverage wasn’t too hot.
“Good morning ladies.” Billie kissed her mother’s cheek and poured herself a cup of coffee.
“And a good morning to you, Billie. I’ll have some more pancakes ready in a minute and there’s sausage on a plate by the stove.” Raven stood near the stove with a spatula in hand.
“Thank you, Raven. You’re a dear.” Billie sipped the hot coffee needing to wake up a little before eating a full breakfast.
Raven sliced a banana and dropped it into the pancake batter poured onto the griddle. “Your mother woke up hungry this morning and said she wanted pancakes. I say, if the woman wants pancakes then she shall have them!” She smiled around a mouthful of pearly teeth.
“You’re so sweet,” Billie said to the nurse cooking breakfast. Where would you find someone else like her, she wondered, and hoped she never had to try. “Sandy and her family came to the restaurant last night, and we plan to go to the beach today. I’m sure they’ll be by soon. I want to show them to you. The kids are so big.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. I can’t wait to see them.” The older woman’s hand shook as she lifted the spoon to her droopy mouth and managed to insert it on the second try.
“You need some help, Mom?” Billie wondered how long the woman would last and would she be able to stay in her home until the inevitable end. She shuddered involuntarily thinking of going through another funeral. But she knew it would happen someday. No one got out alive, her mother always said of death.
“No, dear, I’m fine. Eat your breakfast.”
Billie wiped her mother’s chin anyway. Just because she didn’t want to be fed like a baby didn’t mean she should sit with food on her face. Billie understood her mother would want to be clean.
A hot plate of pancakes and sausage materialized in front of Billie, and Raven turned back to the stove after the delivery.
“If you keep feeding me like this, all those sparkly gowns will have to be let out.” Billie looked up at Raven, and then poured syrup across the mound of pancakes she knew she would not be able to finish. The phone in her robe pocket rang. The screen read Sandy.
“Hey Sandy, good morning. How are the munchkins?” Billie put a bite of pancake in her mouth.
“Hungry. They are like baby birds with their mouths always open.” The noise of children playing rang in the background.
“They’re great. I loved seeing them last night.” Billie sipped her coffee.
“Well, they can’t wait to see ‘Aunt Billie’ this morning. Either that or they are anxious to get to the beach. You know we live in Biloxi and see the beach all the time, but I guess an island beach is different. Something about island life is not the same.”
“Yeah, it is a lot more laid back, and that’s good.” Sandy shoved a fork in her mouth loaded with pancake and a piece of sausage she stabbed along the way.
“They want to know when we can come by and take you to the beach. I also want to say hi to your mom as well.”
“Tell them I’m still in my pajamas and eating breakfast, but I could be done by the time you get here, that is if they don’t run.” It warmed Billie’s heart to think of running and giggling children. She shoved a couple more mouthfuls of food in her mouth rinsing them down with juice and coffee, then stood taking her plate to the sink. “Ladies, I’m going to brush my teeth and put on a swimsuit. The noisy hordes are coming.”
Before she got back from changing Billie heard voices and knocking on the front door.
“Kids, be quiet. Giselle isn’t feeling well, and she doesn’t need your noise.” Sandy stood in front of the door with Jake and Carol jostling for position. “Go wait on the swing.” She pointed to the porch swing with the floral cushion and afghan swaying in the breeze. They ran for the swing, Carol wrapping in the throw as if cold.
Billie opened the door and hugged her best friend in the world. “Hey, guys. So good to see you.” She stood aside holding the door open as Raven pushed the wheel chair out onto the porch.
Immediately the noise and movement ceased.
“Sandy! Oh, and look how big your kids have gotten. Lordy.” Giselle held out a frail hand, and Sandy took it, kissing it lightly.
“Giselle, you look lovely as usual. You remember Jake and Carol.” They both stood from the porch swing, looking shy. They were tormenting each other a moment ago.
“Hi,” they said in unison.
“Oh, it is so good to see you!” She smiled at the children and held out her arms for them to come to her. They walked over and accepted the gentle hug.
“Giselle, can you not walk anymore?” Carol, the baby, was the first to speak.
“Carol! That’s not a nice question.” Sandy looked embarrassed.
“No, it’s fine,” Giselle’s crooked mouth attempted to smile. “No, honey, the old legs have finally given up. But I haven’t. I’m still here. And you two have grown so much! Are you having fun at your grandmother’s for spring break?”
They both nodded.
“It’s a little boring. She doesn’t even have Wi-Fi.” Jake broke the silence.
“Well, who needs Wi-Fi when you have the ocean, huh?” Giselle folded her robe neatly over her gown and looked longingly out to sea. The ocean, only a block away, and the beach where they swam two blocks, but still visible from her front porch.
Billie reached back in the door and picked up a bag with her towel and sunscreen, plopped a hat on her head, sunglasses on her face, and announced she could be found on the beach if needed. She kissed her mother goodbye and signaled to Raven she had her phone. Just in case. She couldn’t wait to get to the beach.
Without discussing it, the two women went to their regular spot. They walked to it as if by radar. An entire island surrounded by sand and they had one beach they wanted to use.
There he sat. A fisherman had their spot. He sat in the low-slung beach chair with a surf rod stuck in the sand. The hat on his head hid his face but his legs looked young.
“Kids, let’s move down a little way. You don’t want to get into his fishing line.” Sandy called to the boy and girl who were already in the water, waving her hand and gesturing to move to the left.
“Who does he think he is taking our beach?” Billie giggled at her friend.
“I know, really. He has the whole ocean and he likes this spot. But it is a perfect place; it’s hard to blame him.”
The fisherman looked up and waved. Sandy waved back as Billie slightly lifted a hand. He was, after all, in her spot.
The women set down the bags and pulled towels from them spreading them on the sand. Neither brought a beach chair.
“You know, the older I get, the more I think I need a chair. Used to be I just plunked my young butt on the sand and never thought twice.”
“But your butt and mine are about the same age, and I know what you mean. The sand never used to be this hard!” Billie sat on the towel shrugging off her cover-up and lathering on sunscreen. “I hate to act like a tourist, but I need to find those beach chairs in the utility room closet.”
“I guess so. Not as comfortable as it used to be.” Sandy dug her toes in the sand. “And I need a pedicure. Flight boots can do a number on your feet.” She picked at the polish that remained on her big toe.
“Well, the sand is great for scrubbing, you know.” Billie dug a hole in the sand, sticking her foot into it and then began to rub the course particles around her cuticles and heels.
“So, tell me. How are you really?” Sandy looked at Billie over the top of her sunglasses. “You look great. I have never heard you sing so beautifully, but are you really doing okay?”
“I guess as good as I can. I don’t have the nightmares anymore. I do yoga each day and meditation.”
“I saw the stones on the porch.”
“Yes, I did that one day when it rained, and I couldn’t go to the beach. Mom loves them, so I leave them there. It is all part of the meditation the doctor has me doing. I have to say, I thought it was a crock at first, but she’s right. It helps.” Both women looked up at squealing in the distance. The kids were splashing and giggling in hip deep water.
“I just hope he doesn’t drown her,” Sandy said, watching her children. “They fight all the time anymore. He is only a year older, but he is sure he’s in charge, and she’s just a baby sister in his way. He is so much like his dad, but she isn’t really like me. I don’t know who she’s like.”
“Carol is just herself, I guess.” Billie watched the young blonde head go under the water and come up yards away from where she started. She held something dangling from her hand. Running toward the beach she shrieked. “I think she found a starfish.”
“She’s been talking about that since we left home. She said she wanted to go Grandma’s and look for starfish. At least that’s what she said after the crying fit about Mom leaving her all the time, and she thought Mom might not come back.”
“Wow! That’s new, isn’t it? I mean you’ve always traveled, so why the change?”
“I’ve been wondering that myself.” Sandy took the offered sunscreen and rubbed it on her shoulders. Carol dumped the starfish on her mother’s towel, and then trotted back to the water. “And I’ve been thinking. The last trip was eventful. I mean we weren’t in immediate danger…yes, we were. We almost ended up in the drink. We suffered a four-engine rollback in the eye of the storm. I’m the one who said we needed to get inside the eye of the hurricane for better data. Then after a lightning strike, we lost all four engines. The C-130 turned into a 50-ton glider that had to be mechanically maneuvered. Thankfully we had an excellent crew. We landed at Key West. Then we slid to the end of the runway, unable to use the auxiliary pump to slow us down, because the mechanic thought we might catch fire. The weather was turbulent and I was a hot mess when we finally landed. Thankfully we all survived, but the plane suffered substantial damage.”
Stones of Sandhill Island Page 4
