Becalmed: When a Southern woman with a broken heart finds herself falling for a widower with a broken boat, it's anything but smooth sailing.

by Normandie Fischer

  They sat in a booth. Jilly loved booths. The place had lots of wood and lots of noise, but she liked watching all the people.

  And look who just came in!

  “Daddy?” She reached over to get his attention, because he hadn’t seen the grown-ups standing next to them. Jilly had. And she couldn’t stop grinning.

  * * * * *

  A voice at Will’s shoulder said, “Jilly, hey. Is this your daddy?”

  He glanced from the woman to his daughter and back. “I’m Will Merritt.”

  “Hannah Morgan,” she said, extending her hand.

  Jilly bobbed in her seat. “Miss Hannah’s the pottery lady, Daddy. Tadie’s friend. The hat lady. I told you.”

  She had? Will didn’t remember seeing the woman before, hat or no hat.

  Hannah turned as an older man joined her. “And this is my husband, Matt.” With a nod at each, she finished the introductions.

  “We’re having pizza.” Jilly’s eyes glittered. “You want some pizza too?”

  Hannah glanced at her husband, who shrugged and said, “Sure, why not? Unless Will would rather not share.”

  Will liked the crinkle in the other man’s eyes, the way his hand settled on his wife’s hip. “We’d love to have you join us.”

  Jilly scooted out of her place and pressed in next to Will without a word.

  Hannah took a seat. “You sweetie. Thanks.”

  “The glass is clean,” Jilly said, pointing to her water. “I didn’t touch it.”

  Their server appeared with more napkin-wrapped stainless and two more menus. When they’d chosen the pizza and ordered, the waitress asked if it would be on one check or two.

  “One. Here.” Matt pointed to himself.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Will said.

  “Why not? You included us. It’s the least we can do.”

  Hannah patted her husband’s hand and grinned at Will. “Don’t deprive him. He likes to be generous.”

  “See, Daddy?” Jilly said. “I told you Hannah was nice.”

  When had they discussed Hannah? To cover his confusion, he said, “As is her husband.”

  “He doesn’t remember.” Jilly leaned forward to speak across the table, using her best grown-up voice. “Sometimes Daddy doesn’t listen when he’s working. He was in the motor hole, and something squirted him and got him dirty. That’s when I told him about my money. I guess he didn’t hear.”

  “Money?” Will asked. How had he missed the mention of money?

  “I told you,” Jilly said, still speaking to Hannah, who laughed and explained their arrangement.

  Will watched closely as they ate and chatted. Figuring out that the Morgans were good people relieved his last reservation about Jilly spending time at Down East Creations. And wasn’t she excited about this new adventure?

  Later, he tucked Jilly in for the night, listening to her prayers and bending to kiss her now sweet-smelling forehead.

  “This is a nice place, Daddy. It’s okay if you don’t get the motor thing fixed right away. I like it here.”

  “What about Baltimore?”

  “The kids won’t stay there very long. They’ll be gone, like everyone. Everyone on a boat, I mean.” She settled Tubby under her arm. “But here, people stay. Did you know Hannah and Tadie have been best friends since they were younger than me?”

  “Than I, but no, I didn’t know that.”

  “I don’t have a best friend, except you and Tubby.”

  “Well, punkin, maybe sometime soon we ought to stop someplace and make friends.”

  Her eyes, which had been heavy lidded, opened wide. “Like here?”

  Will shook his head. “They have hurricanes here. We need to get the boat fixed and go where the hurricanes aren’t so bad.”

  “How come the people who live here can stay and we can’t? Do the hurricanes only get strangers?”

  “Of course not,” Will said, lightly pinching her cheek. “If we lived in a place with lots of hurricanes, we’d figure out how to cope. But we don’t need to bother when we don’t live here.”

  She started to argue again, but Will laid his hand over hers and bent for another kiss. “Close your eyes and dream sweet dreams. And don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

  “Thank you for the pizza.”

  “I had fun too. Go to sleep.”

  “I’m gonna pray about staying someplace. Okay?”

  “Sure. You should pray about everything.”

  She should. Of course she should. Just as long as she didn’t pray that they stay here.

  He switched off her light and wandered out into the cockpit, but the still night invited mosquitoes. As they zoomed in and found their target on his flesh, he retreated below.

  See? Mosquitoes and hurricanes. Obviously, they needed to leave. And soon.

  Jilly wanted a best friend. Fine, just not in Beaufort. Besides, wherever they landed, she’d eventually tire of it.

  He’d have to work harder at finding boats with kids. And figure out where to plant their feet for longer than a couple of days at a time.

  Chapter Nine

  “I saw him again,” Hannah said, her voice breathy over the phone line. “Just now.”

  “You saw him who?” Tadie stretched on the bed, mimicking Eb’s languid pose. She’d hoped for a laugh. She didn’t get one.

  “The cruiser. Will. The one with the gorgeous boat and the little girl, Jilly. Matt was feeling so much better that we walked down to Clawson’s. Shared a pizza with them.”

  That got Tadie sitting up straighter. “You did? And how was it?”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me how delightful he is.”

  “I didn’t know. How could I?”

  “Well, you met them. Jilly said so.”

  “I spent all of ten minutes with them. I can’t gauge the man’s personality by that.”

  “Of course you can. He’s got great eyes. And a deep laugh. Matt likes him.”

  Settling back against her pillows, Tadie smiled. “That’s high praise.”

  “It is. So, when shall we go invade their space?”

  “Invade what space?”

  “The boat, silly. They said we could come by. You’ve got the only transportation out there.”

  “I think he’s busy working on it. We’d better wait.”

  “And then they’ll sail away. Waiting is so not a good idea.”

  “They’re going to sail away, whatever we do.”

  “Maybe not. They don’t have to, you know?”

  “Sure they do. They’re on the way to Baltimore.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Goodnight, Hannah.”

  Hannah’s teasing laugh lingered, as did her words, although Tadie tried not to give them brain space. No, the Nancy Grace would sail away, taking Will and Jilly far from Beaufort. No sense getting worked up about it. That’s the way things were.

  * * * * *

  Tadie managed to make it to the early communion service Sunday morning, the first one she’d been to in months, and stopped to see Elvie Mae on the way home. Now she was trying to distract herself as she waited for the tide, but the words on the page of her book began to blur long before the phone rang. She didn’t bother to mark her place, just checked the caller ID, saw it was Rita, and answered.

  “How did things go yesterday?” she asked.

  “You wouldn’t believe it,” Rita said. “The witnesses can’t keep their stories straight, so who knows what’ll happen at trial.”

  “Maybe it won’t get that far.” Tadie yawned.

  “Maybe. You napping?”

  “Just resting while the tide comes in.”

  “Wish I were there to play with you. Did you see Mama?”

  “On my way back from church. She was all smiles. You know your mama.”

  “Yeah, I do.” Rita paused. Tadie heard a heavy exhale and the words, “I’m gonna give my notice tomorrow.”

  “Whoa. You’re moving back? Your daddy know this yet
?”

  “You’re the first I’ve told. I was thinking maybe you could help soften him up.”

  “Soften up James? With him so proud of you there in Raleigh? How do you propose I do that?”

  “I don’t know. Tell him I won’t have any trouble finding a job there.”

  Tadie snorted. “You think?”

  “I won’t, because I’m not going to keep practicing this sort of law. This isn’t me. It isn’t what I signed on for.”

  Tadie waited, not sure where this was going.

  “Look,” Rita said, following the word with a distracted, “Hold on a sec.” A click sounded, as if she were closing a door, followed by the clop of hard soles on stairs. “Okay. Sorry. I’m off to meet Martin, the doctor I was telling you about. Anyway, I bet I can find something in Morehead or even New Bern, where I can help at the other end. You know, before the wife gets herself killed or the kids get dropped out the window.”

  “Your folks aren’t going to want you quitting just because your mama’s sick. You know that.”

  “I’m doing it anyway. I’ve got to be there.” The clopping stopped, and keys jingled.

  “I agree. Come on home.”

  “You’ll talk to Daddy?”

  “I’ll talk to him. Can’t guarantee he’ll listen. Anyway, you come stay in the big house until you get settled someplace else. Eb and I could use the company.”

  “It’s not as if I haven’t been hanging out in the big house since I could first crawl up those back steps.” Tadie could almost hear Rita’s smile. “You know how I always felt about your family, especially your daddy. Remember how his library always smelled of old leather and cigar smoke?”

  “Yes ma’am. I still smell those cigars sometimes.”

  The sun had filtered through the tall windows of that room for years, settling on the Persian carpets until it bleached out a whole section. Mama used to stare at that faded area and say Daddy ought to draw the drapes, but he liked watching the dust dance in the light. To distract Mama, he’d wrap his arm around her and make her giggle.

  “You two used to sit in there,” Rita said, “reading or playing chess, and I’d come knocking on the door with a message from my mama. Your daddy would twinkle his eyes at me and say, ‘Little Bit, you come on back when you’ve told your mama what she wants to know. I’ve got just the book for you.’”

  The memory elicited a warmth that had nothing to do with the heat outside. “You were so short, your feet dangled off the couch.” Tadie shifted and got up to check out the window. “Tide’s almost in.”

  Rita wouldn’t be distracted. She must be worried if she needed to reminisce so much. Tadie sat back down as the younger woman continued. “It meant a lot to me that you didn’t mind your daddy inviting this little colored girl to invade your sanctuary. I read every book you and Mr. Samuel picked out for me.”

  “Daddy sure was proud of you.”

  “Not many white folk would have paid for somebody not their kin—somebody the wrong color—to go to university.”

  “Like I said, you made him proud. Besides, I don’t think we knew you were black.”

  Rita’s bark of laughter warmed Tadie’s heart. “Honey, I didn’t either. I used to think we were all just different shades. My daddy was the dark chocolate, your mama, the vanilla ice cream. Daddy said I was like a delicious piece of toffee he wanted to gobble up.”

  “Come summer, when Bucky and I spent all that time outside, there wasn’t much difference between you and me.”

  “I know it. Of course, Bucky was light, like your mama.”

  “I envied my little brother’s blond hair and light eyes. It wasn’t fair at all.”

  “Well, at least you never had that nasty Lovell boy call you a nigger. When was that?”

  “You were pretty young. I’ll never forget you running in the house, weeping your little eyes out, asking your mama what that boy meant.”

  “It shook my world pretty bad, but you and your daddy just kept on treating me the same. There’s nothing any of us wouldn’t do for you.”

  “You all are family, Rita. You know it.”

  “And my daddy’s gonna kill me.”

  “Honey, your daddy has never laid a hand on you. He’s not going to start now that you’re grown up.”

  “Maybe. And maybe not.”

  * * * * *

  Had she really said she’d get in the middle between Rita and James? She supposed it came with always wanting to fix things, but hadn’t she learned yet it was best to let folks sort out their own problems?

  She hadn’t. She’d probably go to the grave sorting through other people’s messes. Folk had always come to her, even way back in elementary school. Take it to Tadie, she’ll help. Ask Tadie. She’ll do it.

  “Too bad,” she said to Eb, who was polishing the floor with his swishing tail, “it didn’t make me an expert at solving my own problems.”

  Well, she wasn’t going to say anything to James until they got Elvie home. He had enough to worry about without thinking Rita was throwing her life away, which was exactly what James would say.

  Tadie changed into shorts and a T-shirt, grabbed sunscreen, her hat, and a long-sleeved shirt. On the way out, she picked up a water bottle and a jar of cashews. What she needed was time on the water. It had been a long, windless few days.

  She’d just stepped onto her dock when a green sports car pulled to a stop at the curb and Alex climbed out. She kept moving.

  “Well, lookee here.” The sound of shoes on the wooden boards followed her. “Hey, you going sailing?”

  She turned long enough to glare in his direction. “Alexander Morgan, was I not perfectly clear the other day?”

  He lifted his sunglasses and grinned. “You mean when you said you want me to leave you alone?”

  “That’s it. Seemed perfectly clear to me.” And wasn’t she pleased that his looks held absolutely no appeal?

  “Well, honey, I don’t think I can do that.” He dropped the glasses back in place and kept walking toward her.

  “Go be with your wife, Alex. And get off my dock. You’re no longer welcome here.”

  She continued on down to her little boat, dropped in her supplies, and eased into the cockpit. Alex came up behind her to loose the dock lines. She ignored him as she hoisted sail.

  “I’d be happy to keep you company. I miss our sails together.”

  She stowed her shirt and pulled a cushion from under the stern decking before glancing up at him. “You know something, Alex? I don’t. I don’t miss anything about those days. So you just go away.” She flicked her hands at him as if trying to shoo a fly. “Toss me the lines, please.”

  He seemed unfazed by her rejection as he threw the dock lines into the boat. Tadie pushed off, tightened sheets, and scooted out into the creek. She did not look back.

  The breeze was just aft of the beam, propelling Luna smoothly out of the creek. After she’d trimmed the sails, she barely had to hold Luna’s tiller, so she sat back and scanned the horizon for signs of life on the water. When it was time, she tacked toward the banks. The sun now shone directly on her without the sail to block it. Adjusting her cap, she dug for her water bottle.

  One of the smaller Cape Lookout ferries zoomed past, leaving a wake that rocked Luna, bouncing her boom as she bashed down the far side of the swell. A family was on board, the daughter young, much like Jilly.

  Which reminded her. Hadn’t she promised to sail over to see their boat? She’d make it casual, unhurried. And without Hannah to smirk and hike her eyebrows, she could pull it off.

  She gybed and headed back toward the anchorage, feeling a sense of anticipation that grew as Luna zipped among boats anchored here for a night or a week—or even longer. She sighed as she passed one with La Rochelle, France, painted on it. The one from Hong Kong had already upped anchor and slipped away.

  North, probably. Maybe Maine. Wouldn’t Maine be fun in the summer?

  Well, she’d only get there if she made it h
appen. She could drive up. Charter a boat to go whale watching. Stop in Newport. Cape Cod. Take a ferry to Nantucket or Martha’s Vineyard.

  It just took doing. Getting off her duff and making a plan.

  Living on the wild side.

  Chapter Ten

  The Nancy Grace sat tucked between a large ketch and a smaller wooden sloop out of Galveston. Tadie brought Luna alongside and pointed into the wind so the sails luffed.

  “Ahoy, Nancy Grace. Anyone home?” She grabbed the boarding ladder, holding Luna steady.

  Through the open companionway hatch, she heard an excited little voice say something before Will’s head appeared.

  “Hello, there. Would you like to tie up and come on board?”

  “I would, but I thought I’d invite you and Jilly to join me for a short sail first.”

  As she spoke, Jilly squeezed past her daddy. “Can we … plea-eese? You can work later.”

  He yanked at a pigtail. “Okay, squirt. Get your life jacket. I have to wash my hands and close the engine hatch.”

  “Do you have any water you can bring? Just for yourselves. I’ve got cashews.”

  A few minutes later, Will handed down the bottles of water and a bag of pretzels. He helped Jilly clamber down the ladder into Luna. Tadie pointed the child to a cushion and suggested she sit forward, to port of the centerboard well. Will climbed in and held the ladder while Tadie returned to the tiller. At her nod, he pushed them off. Without direction from Tadie, he took care of the jib sheet, adjusting it as she found her point of sail.

  “What a pretty boat.” Jilly ran her hands over the varnished rail, her eyes shining.

  “Thank you,” Tadie said. “Where would you like to explore? The wonderful thing about a boat that draws only six inches with her board up is that we can slip into all sorts of places.”

  Jilly looked at her daddy before saying, “How about up to the lighthouse? Can we see dolphins? I love dolphins.”

  “We might. You never know what we’ll see. But I think Cape Lookout would work better when we have all day. Besides, on an incoming tide, we’d have a hard time making it around the hook. I have to pay attention to the currents.”

  “’Cause you don’t have a motor.”