Stones of Sandhill Island

by Peggy Chambers

  “Well, if you think it’s important, then I do too. And I’m sure you’re right about not talking to a person enough when they are alive. I’m sure when the time comes I’ll want to talk to Mom and she won’t be around.” Sandy looked out counting heads in the water and waved the kids back closer to shore.

  “Oh, are you busy on Thursday? I want to go to Corpus Christi and look at pianos. Come with me? We can pack up the kids and your mom if she wants to go and have some lunch while we’re there.” Billie wiped her mouth with the paper towels packed for the picnic.

  “Sounds great. I’ll check with Mom. Billie, I am so happy to see you getting back into your music. You have such a talent, and I think you should use it. And it might be what makes the healing process go more smoothly.” She shoved the scraps of her lunch into the plastic bag and tossed it into the ice chest with the rest of the trash, then stood and walked toward the water.

  “Mom! Look what I found!” Carol called from knee deep in the water and pointing into the clear blue ocean.

  ****

  Poppy dumped the water bowl that sat on the porch next to Lillie’s pallet into the sandy soil out front. Refilling it, he stepped back up on the porch as Billie emerged from the house.

  “Hey, Poppy. How are you today? I didn’t hear you when you came in this morning.” Billie stood barefoot in shorts with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Would you like a glass of tea?”

  “Well, that’d be real nice, Miss Billie. I’ll take it out on the porch with Lillie if that’s okay.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I like to be outside during the day.”

  “It’s a beautiful day. Lemon and sugar?” Billie brushed a stray hair out of her face.

  “Yes, thank ye. I’ll be here with the dogs.” He leaned down on arthritic knees and patted Lillie on the head as she watched her pups sleep.

  Billie handed the glass of tea to Poppy and sat in the chair next to the door gesturing to the one next to her. Poppy sat.

  “Would you like to have a puppy when they are old enough to leave their mother?” Billie eyed the man who took such good care of her dog.

  “Well, Miss Billie, I’ve been wanting to ask that very question, if you don’t already have homes for all of them. I’d take good care of it and all.” He took a gulp of tea.

  “I know you would, Poppy. Carol has picked out the brown female pup, but other than that one, none are spoken for. You can have the pick of the litter except for Carol’s dog.” A broad smile formed on Poppy’s face, and he looked at the pups with their mother as they woke hungry and began to nurse before the afternoon nap. Billie was sure he was weighing his options and deciding which pup to take.

  “Poppy, I’ve wanted to ask you a question for a while now. You know everyone on the island, and you knew my mother.” Billie took a sip of tea.

  “Yes. Miss Giselle, she was a real nice lady.” Poppy pulled his eyes away from the dogs, drank the tea deeply, and then wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

  “Yes. I wondered… At the funeral, I saw a man in a white hat and suit; he leaned on a cane, and he spent a lot of time at the funeral next to Mom’s urn. I think he came from Corpus Christi with the dancers Mom knew when young. Do you know who he was?”

  “You mean Rico? Your mother’s boyfriend?” Another gulp of tea and he almost drained the glass.

  Billie’s glass slipped from her wet fingers and she grabbed it with the other hand, spilling some of it on her lap and the floor. She brushed at the wet spot on her shorts with the towel that lay on the table between them and then wiped up the liquid on the floor. “My mother had a boyfriend?”

  “Um, was I not supposed to say that? I didn’t know it was a secret. He came to the island sometimes, but you would have been in school. So, you probably didn’t see him.” One final drink and he emptied his glass.

  “How about another glass?” Billie stood with her half empty glass and reached for Poppy’s.

  “If it’s not too much trouble.” Poppy smiled again as he handed her the empty glass. “You make some real good tea, Miss Billie—just like your mother used to.”

  “Thank you, I’ll be right back.” Billie walked into her kitchen and stood at the sink as she tried to dry her shorts on a clean tea towel. Her mother had a boyfriend. And he came to the island while she went to school. Billie remembered her mother going to Corpus Christi three days a week to teach at the Corpus Christi Concert Ballet Academy as Artistic Director. On those days, Billie walked home to Sandy’s house after school and stayed until her mother got home. If she had visitors on the days she didn’t work, Billie never knew it. Would Martha have known? And if so did the rest of the island? Billie knew there had always been secrets on Sandhill Island, but she wasn’t aware that her mother held one of them.

  She suddenly realized that she had done nothing about refilling the tea glasses and promptly pulled the pitcher from the refrigerator. Adding sugar and lemon to Poppy’s glass, she stepped back out onto the porch.

  Poppy sat on the floor of the porch with the black puppy in his lap.

  “I think I’ll name him Blackie.” He gently petted the black-as-midnight dog. Billie thought the dog a perfect choice for one who would spend most days outside with Poppy on the dock while his master fished.

  “A perfect name.” She asked no more questions. She had a name for the man at her mother’s funeral, and she would begin at the Corpus Christi Concert Ballet. Maybe someone there still knew Rico and her mother. Maybe when they looked at pianos on Thursday, they could make a little detour. But first, she would talk to Martha.

  Chapter 32

  “So, you knew Mom had a boyfriend?” Billie looked Martha up and down. “And you never told me?”

  Martha placed her knitting into the basket at her feet and patted Billie’s arm. “Honey, you were too young. And later, if your mother had wanted you to know, she would have told you. He danced with the ballet on the mainland—I bumped into him a few times. You know how small this island is, and everyone knows everyone. But I didn’t talk about it. Your mother had her own life. She came to the island with you when you were just a baby. We all knew she taught dancing—she made her living that way. I thought her wonderful, and that was all I needed to know about her.”

  “But my father, why didn’t he marry her? Did she not want to get married or were there other reasons?” Billie sat on Martha’s front porch. Her conversation with Poppy the other day had stirred a lot of emotions. Sandy had taken the kids to the grocery store with promises of letting them pick out some of the week’s meals, probably to give Billie and Martha time to talk.

  “Did you know his last name?” Billie brushed at imaginary crumbs on her T-shirt.

  “Santori or something? No, Santiago. Rico Santiago. I remember thinking how exotic—at least for Texas. It surprised me that he came to the funeral. He’s an old man now, like the rest of us. I thought it wonderful that the dancers from Corpus came to pay their respects.” Martha looked up as Sandy’s van pulled in to the yard. The doors flew open, and kids spilled out running for the porch.

  “Groceries! You have to help bring in the groceries.” Sandy called to the kids who turned around and walked back to the car listlessly. One minute they were running free, and the next they were indentured servants.

  “Look, Aunt Billie, I got new flip flops!” Carol showed off pink flip flops from the grocery store. She had been in tennis shoes since the fire when she came out from under the house with only one. No one wanted to go back under to look for the lost one.

  “Very nice. Let’s get these groceries put away, and then we can go piano shopping. What do you say?”

  ****

  The kids stood at the railing of the ferry as they crossed to the mainland. Martha sat in the van with Billie in the back seat.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you, Martha. I was just surprised about my mother’s boyfriend, and I want to try to talk to him, if I can.” Sandy looked out at the gulls on their never-ending search for food.

 
; “You didn’t upset me, dear. I guess I just never thought about talking to you about it—so long ago.” Martha turned around to see the woman who had been like a second daughter to her.

  “I found a note in a box of mementos—before the bonfire incident—and I wondered what question he asked, but Mom always said my father was a dancer who could not marry her. I never asked too many questions. Now that she’s gone, I would like to know who my father is—or who he used to be. I’ve lost my entire family and would really like to talk to Rico. Maybe he is and maybe he isn’t my father, but he cared about Mom, I know. I could tell by the way he acted at the funeral. I’d like to stop by the ballet today while we are in Corpus, if we have time, and see if anyone knows how to find him.”

  Sandy called her kids back to the van where they waited their turn to leave the ferry and drive onto the mainland of Corpus Christi. Billie had a list of piano stores and promised them they would eat at a restaurant when they got hungry. Sandy had packed snacks knowing the kids were always hungry, hoping to stave off the whining for food while they shopped.

  ****

  The artificially cool store played piped-in music in the huge hall. The gleaming floors held pianos of all types and styles from grands to baby grands and uprights. They even had electric pianos for those inclined to that style. Billie knew what she wanted, and she did not have room for a grand.

  She ran her fingers over the finish of the concert grand piano pushed ceremoniously to the front of the store. The good stuff sat up front. Never in her wildest dreams could she afford such an instrument.

  A woman in stiletto heels and tight skirt emerged from the back as Sandy shushed her kids. They were allowed electronics today to keep them occupied.

  “It has an exceptional sound. Do you play?” She eyed Billie, who stood by the piano in a long flowing skirt and sandals. Her hair pulled back in a clip to deal with the humidity, she wore no jewelry and little makeup. Billie didn’t look like the high roller type who would buy the piano she touched gingerly.

  “Yes, I play. I’m looking for a piano for the house. I wouldn’t have room for this.” She ran her fingers over the ivory keys, and the sound reverberated through the room.

  “We have the baby grands and one petite grand in the back.” The woman looked at Martha and the children, then back to Billie. “We also have some used items that have been traded in.”

  “What are the prices on the smaller ones?” Billie looked around the room and walked toward a smaller version of the magnificent instrument up front.

  “I’ll get you a price list. Of course, the prices can be negotiated, and we have a finance plan.” She looked Billie up and down then turned to retrieve the price list.

  “I doubt I can afford these,” Billie whispered to Sandy once the woman left the room.

  “Well, they’re not the only store in town.” Sandy moved quickly toward Jake who walked fast in the direction of the electric piano near the wall. “No,” was all she said.

  In the corner sat a petite version of the piano, about four or five feet wide, at the front. She lifted the lid that covered the keys and ran her fingers over them, then placed her finger on middle C and began her rendition of Summertime from Porgy and Bess. She caressed keys that felt smooth as buttered silk, humming under her breath as she played.

  “Jazz, huh? Very nice.” The sales woman reappeared near Billie’s elbow with a price list in her hand.

  “Yes, I’m a jazz singer and want to get back into composition.” Billie pulled the lid back down over the keys.

  “I can make you a good deal on that. It has been gently used. She handed the price sheet to Billie after circling the instrument on the paper, then wrote a figure off the side. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a business card.

  “Thank you. I just started looking. I’ll get back to you.” Billie took the papers and placed them in her bag.

  “Well, come back and see me after you’ve shopped. We’ll talk. We have the best instruments on the Gulf.” The woman smiled as Billie took the paperwork.

  Billie could hear the kids starting to get noisy. It was time to go. “Thank you, I will.”

  Back in the van, they drove to the few music stores Billie had on her list. She found several great pianos, and none of them were cheap. Her goal to own a piano again would be hard on the budget.

  Billie played several pianos in the stores they visited and as usual, the sales people saw talent. Talent they wanted to tap—and sell to.

  “Jake, stop it!” Carol turned and shoved her brother who walked behind her stepping on the new flip flops.

  “Okay, enough. Jake leave your sister alone. Let’s wait outside.” Sandy turned her children and pushed them toward the door. Martha followed.

  Billie could see that the kids were tired of shopping. Maybe she should have made this trip alone, but she had promised them lunch. She quickly thanked the sales person and turned toward the door.

  “Okay, who likes Snoopy’s Pier?” Billie knew the restaurant wasn’t far, and the kids could have a break before one more stop.

  “I do!” Carol shouted.

  “Cool.” Jake almost looked up from the game on his phone.

  “What do you say, Mom and Grandma? Want some lunch?” Billie looked at her friends. Martha mopped her brow with an embroidered hanky that Billie knew she had stitched many years ago. How many people actually carried handkerchiefs these days? Or embroidered them. Billie felt so close to Martha. She needed to be sure she hadn’t hurt the older woman’s feelings with accusing her of not mentioning Rico before.

  “Sounds good to me,” Martha said, and Sandy nodded.

  “I’ve got the GPS coordinates, Mom.” Jake handed his phone over the back seat. “In case you need directions.”

  “Are you hungry, Jake?” Sandy took the phone and sat it in the center console of the car.

  “Always,” he answered honestly.

  Chapter 33

  Snoopy’s specialized in fresh seafood and an ice cream/dessert bar. They found a place in the shade near the water with a fan blowing on the table. Martha did not take the heat well. Unused to air conditioning on the island, she still was not as young as she used to be, and the heat bothered her quickly, especially when she came and went from refrigerated air to none and back again.

  “Sit over here, Mom.” Sandy stood and took her mother’s arm pulling her to the place she had secured for her. I think the breeze is better.” The waitress quickly brought the drinks, and they looked at menus.

  “I’m having a chocolate barnacle.” Jake looked at his mom with mischievous eyes.

  “First, you’ll have lunch, then you can order dessert if you finish your lunch.”

  “I will,” Jake said, and Billie knew he would. She had no idea where the pre-teen boy put so much food, but he would finish a huge lunch followed by an even bigger dessert.

  ****

  The street where the ballet academy sat held old style two-story houses reminiscent of how the people of the time settled the Corpus Christi bay area. Large windows faced the water, absorbing the sea breeze. Leaving Sandy and her family in the front entry, Billie walked up to the desk where a young woman sat.

  Billie could hear music down the hall in the otherwise quiet and pristine building. She breathed deeply the scent of perspiration and damp ballet shoes in the artificially cool air and knew the building held the blood, sweat, and tears of many dancers. Her mother had studied here, and her mother had eventually been the Artistic Director when she could no longer dance as the ballet’s principal ballerina. Had Giselle regretted the child that kept her from dancing? Billie didn’t think so. She knew her mother loved her and would have moved heaven and earth for her daughter. She lived the life of the prima ballerina and then lived on as a mother and teacher who helped to create more ballerinas. Giselle loved the arts whether music, dance, or whatever expression it took. She had done what she had to do to make a living, all while she made sure her daughter had the training for her
own expression of art. Music.

  “Excuse me,” Billie said to the young woman who walked out of the door and sat at her desk.

  “My name is Billie Stone. My mother used to work here as the Artistic Director many years ago. Her name was Giselle Martin.” The girl looked blank.

  Billie cleared her throat and proceeded. “My mother passed away recently and several of the former dancers associated with the ballet were at her funeral. I am trying to get in touch with one of them. His name is Rico Santiago—he danced with the ballet.” The girl wrote down the name.

  “Okay, what is your name again?” The girl spoke for the first time.

  “Billie Stone, daughter of the late Giselle Martin.” Billie looked around the room at the spacious surroundings.

  “I just started here and don’t know many people, but I could give your information to the current Artistic Director.” She shoved a pen and pad to Billie to write on.

  Billie took the pen and wrote a note to a person she did not know and might never see. She put her most precious memories on a blank pad for the world to view. Giselle Martin, Artistic Director—she could not remember the dates—and she wanted to talk to Rico Santiago, a dancer when her mother was principal ballerina at the ballet. Then she wrote her cell phone number at the bottom. Would anyone see this, or would it be thrown in the wastebasket as soon as she left? She had to take a chance. She had come this far. She handed the pen and pad back to the girl who sat like a dancer, one who had been relegated to a desk—at least today.

  “You’ll give this to the current director?” Billie hoped her remark might prevent the potential of the trash can catching the paper as soon as she left.

  “Yes ma’am, as soon as she comes back.” The phone rang, and the girl hesitated.

  “Thank you.” Billie turned and left back the way she came. She had no way of knowing if the note would ever reach its intended target.

  Chapter 34

  “I’ve talked to my buddy, Mike, and he has agreed to take on the Montana store. I’m going to set up a satellite store here in the Corpus area. I’ll see who might need IT help on the island first, and then branch out to the mainland.” Neil sipped his club soda as he sat across the table from the woman in the aqua gown. He’d been eating dinner at Le Chez on the weekends when Billie sang. Most nights he could convince her to stay for a drink with him after she shut down for the evening. Sometimes she allowed him to walk her home.