Only two minutes had passed when Kate leaned over and shut off the taps. Hennessy handed her a towel, but didn’t try to help dry her. The “stop” sign was definitely up.
“I should know that,” Kate said. She briskly rubbed the towel over her body, tossed it aside, then started to floss her teeth.
Hennessy moved over to hang the towel up, then watched Kate. Everything she did was honed down to the quickest, most efficient way to accomplish her objective. She hadn’t been this way when they’d met. Back then, she moved around like a cat, sensual, slow, always seeking pleasure. Part of her allure was how lighthearted and playful she’d been. But the burden of holding people’s lives in her hands had drained much of the joy from her. So much change, all of it sneaking up on them.
Hennessy put her hand on Kate’s warm back. “We don’t have a normal relationship, baby.” Kate’s eyes popped wide open, with Hennessy looking into her reflection in the mirror. “I’m not complaining. I don’t work as hard as you do, but I crank out at least sixty hours a week. We’ve had to drop all of the little things just to stay afloat. It’s like living a highlight reel.”
Kate was brushing her teeth now, the brush moving across the enamel so quickly it seemed robotic. She spit into the sink, then cupped her hand and rinsed her mouth with a sip of water. This time she took Hennessy’s hand as they went back into the bedroom. Small progress.
Kate sat on the bed again, with Hennessy sitting next to her. “You’re right. I’ve got a head full of things when I get home. Things I should probably talk about.” She closed her eyes and rubbed at them with her fists. “But I want to forget everything that upsets me at work. You probably do the same thing.”
Her body language was loosening up now, making Hennessy sure she could hold her. Snaking an arm around her back, she pulled her close. Kate rubbed her face against Hennessy’s shoulder like a contented cat. “I have this list of things I need to talk to you about. Like that stupid job down in Columbia.”
Hennessy froze, still wounded about Kate hiding that from her. “A job in Columbia isn’t stupid, Kate. Your working there would make things so much easier for me—”
Kate sat up and broke in. “Even working worse hours than I do now? Taking whatever shift someone else doesn’t want? The worst vacation weeks?”
“What? Why would—?”
“You wouldn’t let me explain this morning. Are you sure you want to hear now?” She looked like a kid who’d been falsely accused of breaking something.
“Of course I do.” Hennessy leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry I was so obnoxious this morning.”
That merited just a head nod. She was clearly still hurt. “A bunch of guys set up a partnership to staff the ERs in four different hospitals down there. They’re looking for a couple of rookies, who probably won’t ever be partners, who they can treat like interns. At least that’s what it looks like to me.”
“Is that…common?”
“More and more,” she said, flopping back onto the bed. “The hospital doesn’t have to have staff sitting around when things are slow, their insurance rate’s lower. All sorts of benefits for the hospital to farm out their critical care. But I’d be running from one place to another, probably stuck on nights for a long, long time.” She let out a bitter laugh. “Until they hire someone lower on the totem pole than me.”
“That sounds like an awful job,” Hennessy said quietly. She lay down and turned her head to gaze at Kate’s profile. “That’s not what I want for you, baby.”
Kate met her eyes. “We’re never going to both get what we want, Boudreaux. Maybe we should get over the dream right now and figure out how to settle for something we won’t hate.”
“Not yet,” Hennessy said, reaching over to caress Kate’s pale cheek. “We don’t have to do that yet.” Kate’s body was limp and pliable, and she easily gave in to Hennessy’s tugging. As their bodies met, she sighed heavily. “I’ll try this for a year while you keep looking for the perfect job. Maybe I’ll be able to start a writing program in that mythical, perfect city, where you find the ideal job.” She kissed her cheek. “Then we’d have exactly what we both want.”
“Three weeks?” Kate asked softly, getting back to the immediate issue. “That’s all we have?”
“It’ll seem like more. I’m going to stay on your schedule,” Hennessy promised. “Then we’ll have more time together.” She tickled under her chin. “We might even talk to each other.”
Kate shifted to sit up slightly. A warm, but faint smile met Hennessy’s gaze. “Can we sleep first? I’m too tired to think straight.”
Hennessy pushed her to her back, then ran a hand all over her body, smiling when goosebumps broke out wherever that hand touched. With a sweet kiss, she looked down at her, hoping her love showed in her eyes. “First, I’m gonna give you a sedative. I know exactly what the doctor likes.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sitting on the dock, so attuned to every noise that she twitched each time a fish flopped in the water, Hennessy pulled her bare legs up and wrapped her arms around them. It was hot. Hotter than Hades. So hot the flies languidly hovered near the weathered, grey deck planks, unable to get much altitude. It was the last day of May, and she’d only been in Beaufort for twenty-four hours, but it was clear her body believed spring was generally cool, drizzly, and overcast. That was in the past. May in South Carolina was summer, and her system was going to have to work to acclimate—quickly.
Her mind was playing tricks on her. When she thought of Townsend pulling up in her car, the girl she imagined was eighteen—painfully thin, skin as pale as parchment, a jaded, careworn expression incongruous upon her youthful features. That image hadn’t yet been pushed aside by the two encounters they’d had last month. Her brain had some catch-up work to get in sync with today’s Townsend; fit not frail, a healthy glow to her cheeks, and a lighthearted smile that seemed to spring from true contentment.
They hadn’t spoken much, just a few quick calls to firm up some details. She had a feeling Townsend would have been calling often, but she was being very respectful of Hennessy’s limited time with Kate.
Kate. Their last weeks together had passed in an instant. Hennessy was truly going to miss the hell out of her. They didn’t spend as much time together as they’d like, but they shared a home, a life, a love that bound them to each other even when they missed a day or two sleeping together.
There had been so many times in the last weeks she’d itched to call Townsend. To quiz her on what she was up to—laboring down in Hilton Head all on her own. Hennessy could have easily spent hours on the phone, barely digging into her list of questions. But Kate was her priority, and she focused on her to the exclusion of every other issue. Besides, she knew she’d catch up no matter how much Townsend had gotten done. She had home field advantage, after all.
In the distance, oyster shells began to crack and she jumped to her feet and dusted off the seat of her shorts. Right on time. The old Townsend, the one who went out of her way to ignore deadlines—was obviously a thing of the past.
A tiny car, no bigger than a flea, moved slowly down the road, white dust forming a cloud that nearly enveloped it. Hennessy walked up to the bright blue thing and slapped her hands on the roof, making Townsend jump. The window rolled down, and she angled her chin towards it. “A welcome to South Carolina kiss,” Townsend demanded.
Hennessy dutifully leaned over and placed one on her cheek. Then her nose started to twitch. “Why does your car smell like a little bit of heaven?”
The window went back up, then the door opened. Townsend got out, stuck her arms out at her sides and took an obvious breath. “All I can smell is the unique scent of my new home.” Her head cocked and she asked, “Why’s it so much worse some times than others?”
“Smell? Worse?” Hennessy grabbed her chest and stumbled backwards. “You think the magnificent aroma of pluff mud is bad? Damn girl, if I could, I’d bottle it and sell it to people who’ve bee
n forced to move away. I’d be rich!”
“Pluff mud?”
“You spent a whole summer in the Low Country and never thought to ask about pluff mud?”
“I’m asking now.” Townsend walked over to the passenger side and opened the door.
“Well, I can’t say as how I know its composition. Probably millions of years of runoff and decomposed fish and birds and anything else that falls into the water. And you smell it more at low tide…obviously. That’s when you can see it, too. I’ll give you a bit of fair warning. Don’t ever try to walk on a tidal flat. You can sink in past your hips in two seconds flat.”
Townsend stopped and stared at her. “Why in the world would I walk on a tidal flat?”
Shrugging, Hennessy said, “I can’t know that. I’m just trying to make you a little more binya than comya.”
“Translation?”
“Gullah term for natives versus…others.”
“I don’t have to learn Gullah do I?”
“Nah. I don’t know much, and I’m a binya.” Hennessy poked her head inside the car and nodded. “Two cardboard boxes covered with grease stains.” Her grin grew bigger. “Where did you find barbecue?”
Townsend took one of the boxes, holding it like a Northerner, well away from her neatly ironed gingham-checked green shirt. “I had to take my grandmother to the airport in Savannah, so I hunted around on the internet, looking for places with glowing reviews.” With a wink, she added, “I wasn’t about to have your grandparents cook for me after they’ve been working all day, and given that I know you’ve missed barbecue, this seemed like a perfect option.”
“How do you know I missed barbecue?” Hennessy asked as she scampered to keep up with Townsend’s determined gait.
“Because you mentioned it about forty times when we were at camp together. And given that I know you never get anything authentic in Boston…” Her smile was so charming Hennessy’s breath caught in her throat. “I figured you were due.”
“I’m damned glad to see you,” Hennessy said as she anxiously jiggled the knob to open the door. “And even gladder to wrap my mouth around some real South Carolina barbecue, the clearest sign God loves us and wants us to be happy.”
The last customer drove away at seven thirty. Luckily, Sunday nights always ended early. Rather than get the kitchen table dirty, Hennessy brought the food to the shack, and they all settled down at a picnic table.
Townsend seemed a little twitchy, which endeared her all the more to Hennessy. Having someone who’d rubbed elbows with a boatload of millionaires and assorted celebrities show some nerves over pleasing Gramma was darned cute.
Hennessy started to take the Styrofoam containers out, with Townsend warning, “They looked at me funny when I asked for side dishes, so there’s only pulled pork and pork hash over rice.”
Grandaddy jumped up and made for the kitchen. “Cole slaw and corn bread, coming right up.”
Hennessy opened the first container. “Hot damn, this looks good.”
Gramma reached over and snagged a piece of glistening, fat-flecked meat. Her eyes closed briefly as she chewed. “Now, those people know how to cook a pig.” Then her gaze landed on Townsend, who looked like she was trying to keep herself from squirming. “You’ll never be a native, but if you can sniff out good barbecue, you’ll fit in just fine.”
The smile that lit up that Yankee face made Hennessy’s heart swell. “Welcome home to South Carolina,” she said, not even trying to hide the few tears that skittered down her cheeks.
Townsend leaned against her, just like she used to do when they were kids. “I’m already a homeowner,” she declared, flinching when Gramma let out an audible gasp. In her world you inherited the house you grew up in when your momma and daddy died. But Townsend didn’t shy away. “My grandmother and I looked at nearly every house for sale, and found the perfect one on Tuesday. I didn’t bring much, but my clothes are already in my new closet.”
Hennessy knew her mouth was hanging open, but she couldn’t disguise her shock. “It’s Sunday!”
“I know. But the place was empty so they allowed me to rent until closing.” She turned her focus to Gramma. “I want you all to come down and visit. You’re closed on Mondays, right?”
“That’s right,” Gramma said, clearly pleased that Townsend knew that. “Every Monday.”
“Let me know when you can get away. I’ll make lunch for us all, and you can see where the baby girl’s going to spend her days.”
“I’ve never been to Hilton Head,” Gramma said, her brow furrowing a little. “I guess we could get down there, couldn’t we?”
Grandaddy nodded. “We sure could. The baby girl can draw me a map.”
Hennessy just about burst with excitement. This was going to be a year to remember. No doubt about it.
Hennessy insisted on cleaning the kitchen, leaving everyone else to chat and hopefully stay cool. It was hotter than blue blazes, with the one fan doing little more than drying the sweat on the backs of her legs. As soon as she got her first paycheck, she was gonna make some changes.The shack was too full of holes for air conditioning to work, but a few industrial fans would make a world of difference.
Gramma walked in to get a refill of tea, but instead of returning to the dining area, she came over and leaned against the wide, chipped, cast iron sink as Hennessy scrubbed the biggest pans. “You make sure Townsend gets regular meals up there.”
Hennessy turned and gave her a puzzled look.
“She needs some more meat on those bones.” Her attention fixed on a determined fly and she shooed it away. “She’s a good girl—especially for a Yankee.”
Smirking, Hennessy said, “She’s a real Yankee, Gramma. Her people were here early on. Seventeenth century.”
Dismissively, she waved a hand. “You can’t hold that against the girl. It’s not her fault her people didn’t have the sense to head South.” There was a significant pause, the kind her grandmother made use of when she was about to say something that made her uncomfortable. “What’s…what’s she got up to these days?”
Given that Gramma knew every detail of the writing program, and what both of their jobs were, Hennessy was pretty sure the question was a personal one. “Are you asking if she’s dating anyone?”
Sharply, she said, “I asked no such thing. You know I don’t like to stick my nose where it don’t belong.” She pushed away from the sink and went to grab her book of recipes, gathering dust atop a flimsy metal locker that held supplies. Thumbing through the pages, she said, “I’m just askin’ ’bout her. She’s been a good friend to you for half your life.”
That wasn’t technically true, but Gramma didn’t know about the years of silence. “She’s the best friend I’ll ever have.”
“Tell me next time she’s gonna come and I’ll make something special.” A second significant pause made Hennessy twitch, wondering what was going to follow. “She could bring somebody…if it’s like that. Doesn’t matter who. Boy or…girl,” she added, mumbling the last word.
Hennessy stood there, dumbstruck. Townsend was being invited for a special meal, and was going to be allowed to bring her girlfriend! In all their years together, Kate had never been offered anything special. Why was Townsend the prodigal daughter? That was the big question, but Hennessy didn’t have the nerve to ask. It wouldn’t have done any good anyway. The sphinx revealed his secrets much more easily than Gramma.
Hennessy wasn’t taking much—just a few pairs of shorts, all of her summer shirts, and a few T-shirts. There was no need for long pants until fall. While putting her meager belongings in Townsend’s trunk, she was glad she had such a streamlined wardrobe. Much more would not have fit.
For the first time in years, she didn’t have to hug Gramma and Grandaddy until they winced. In just five days, she’d be home again. Still, they carried on a bit, kissing her cheeks and tickling her as always. Gramma couldn’t stand to hold you close and not make you giggle.
“Townsend, yo
u know you’re welcome any old time, right?” Gramma asked when they were finally released and settled in the car.
“I do, indeed. But this can’t be a one way street,” she said, leaning over Hennessy to be able to see Gramma’s face. “You’ve got to come to my house, too.”
“We will,” she beamed. “First chance we get. Now get moving. You’ve got a long drive in this little bug.” She put her hand on the car, regarding it curiously. “I’ve never seen anything so tiny that wasn’t cutting grass, but it’s awful cute.”
“Thanks,” Townsend said. “See you soon.”
Hennessy stuck her hand out and waved, then they started back out the crunchy drive. “A great meal, followed by a long drive usually puts me right to sleep.” She reached over and poked at Townsend playfully. “But I’m as happy as a tick on a fat dog, and too damned excited to relax.”
Townsend gave her a quick look, then nodded. “I’d have to say you look pretty pleased.”
“Well hell,” she sighed, letting her seat back another few inches. “I’m heading to a job I’m dying to start and we just had the most stress-free meal I’ve had with my family in years.”
“What? Why would your meals be—” Townsend raised an eyebrow. “Because of Kate?”
“Uh-huh.” Hennessy let out a long sigh. “Gramma’s cold as ice when Kate’s around, and Kate sure doesn’t try to make it better.”
“Do they fight or…?”
“Oh, no, Kate’s not like that.” She thought for a minute, careful to not say anything that would show Kate in a harsh light. “She’s warm and very friendly, but not much for extending herself if she feels she’s wasting her time. She and Gramma got off on a bad foot, and neither one of them seems to want to get past that.”
“I’m sorry,” Townsend said, sparing a sympathetic look. “That must make it hard to visit.”
“It does. It truly does.” She thought about their last visit, and how uncomfortable Kate had been. “I think from now on I’m not even going to ask Kate to come with me. God knows, she’d rather spend her vacation time with her own family.” Her mood began to sour. “In all these years, she’s met my mother once.”
The Right Time Page 45
