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

  “You got one?”

  “I think so. Hold the net, will you?”

  Tadie bent down, lowering the net slowly as Rita worked the line. She couldn’t tell whether there was a crab down there or merely the bait. When Rita eased it toward the surface, she slipped the net down and under, hauling in a dripping chicken neck.

  “He was there,” Rita said. “Look how the bait’s been chewed.”

  “Toss it in again. Maybe he’ll come back.”

  Rita dropped her line and went to check the other. “This is almost as bad as fishing. Wait, wait, and then—poof. The thing’s gone.”

  “We used to catch a basketful,” Tadie said, leaning against a piling. “Bucky and I would come out here and spend all afternoon, then take a basket in to your mama to cook. Nothing better than just-caught crab. Bucky must have been the one who made it happen. You remember those days?”

  “Not much. I remember my daddy coming out sometimes to check on you two. Sometimes he’d let me tag along.” She got the chicken neck in sight. “Nothing here either. I bet it’s too hot for them, so they’ve backed themselves into that nice, cool mud to wait for night.”

  “Maybe so.” Tadie laid down the net. “Is Martin going to get here early enough to go out if a breeze comes up?”

  Rita hooded her eyes as she scanned the water. “I doubt it. He’s got rounds to make before he can leave Raleigh.”

  “Have you told them about him yet?”

  “I wanted to,” she said, looking sheepish as she smoothed her hands over her thighs, “but how do you say something like that when Mama and Daddy are all excited, thinking I’m bringing home a nice, church-going, dark-skinned doctor?”

  “How do you not tell them and embarrass everybody?”

  “Don’t imagine I haven’t worried myself nearly sick.”

  Tadie pictured the scene. “I’ll tell you what. Your mama and I have been friends—more than friends—most of my life. Why don’t I come up there early, maybe with some things to add to your table, and you tell them then? What are they going to say, remembering how they feel about me and my family?”

  “Tadie, would you? That’s just the thing. You’ve never been afraid to speak your mind to Mama—nor she to you—and if you’re coping with her, maybe I can get Daddy wrapped an extra turn around my finger.”

  Tadie could picture Rita doing exactly that. “What’re you serving? I need to know what to bring.”

  “I thought I’d make Daddy’s favorite fried chicken and mashed potatoes, ’cause we’re not likely to be cooking crabs. You have any flowers that weren’t taken out by the storm? Mama was just saying it’s going to be a while before she sees any color on her table. I told her I’d buy some, but she doesn’t think that counts.”

  “They’ve got to be grown right here, don’t they? Well, I hauled in a couple of pots of new chrysanthemums in gorgeous colors. I’ll repot a small one for her table.”

  She could do that. And maybe take another of the small pots to her bedside. Something cheery up there would be good.

  When a slight movement caught her eye, she said, “Is that line going tight? The one on your right?”

  Rita jumped up. “Maybe it’s just the tide.”

  “And maybe it’s not.”

  * * * * *

  Tadie climbed the steps leading to the apartment. She couldn’t help her frisson of excitement as she anticipated the evening ahead. She didn’t imagine sparks would fly—Elvie and James weren’t like that. But she, Rita, and Martin would have to exude charm, and she wanted to see how Martin would perform. Because if he couldn’t pull it off, well then, he wouldn’t be half good enough for their Rita.

  Elvie oohed over the plant, her eyes dancing. “Look at those colors, James. Those purple and rose tones, and that yellow thrown in. My lands, missy, you did well. So you saved these from that storm. Good for you.” Elvie turned and fluttered her fingers at Rita. “Get out the yellow cloth napkins. Let’s celebrate. Aren’t you something, Tadie-girl?”

  Rita nodded over her shoulder at Tadie. When she’d reset the table with the requested napkins, she offered Tadie some tea.

  Tadie took it and eased down on the couch near Elvie’s chair. They’d better get this over with, or Martin would be arriving and they’d still be sitting here looking at each other. She tried to make her words sound casual. “Do you all know much about this fellow of Rita’s?”

  Elvie patted the doilies on the arms of her recliner. “Rita’s kept him a secret, seems like. We know he’s a doctor, which made Rita’s daddy perk up. The only problem with doctors is they work too much.”

  “He’s from someplace up north,” James said, as if that were a strike against him.

  “Only when he was born, Daddy. He grew up in Raleigh. Like I told you, his daddy’s a doctor too.”

  “His folks still alive?”

  “They are.”

  “Have you met them?”

  Rita looked pleadingly over at Tadie. “I told you already, Daddy. I met his father once when he was visiting Martin at the hospital.”

  “Rita,” Tadie said. “Best get it over with.”

  Elvie sat a little straighter. “Get what over with?” She looked from Tadie to her daughter. “What aren’t you saying?”

  Rita closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, she reached out and took her mama’s hands in both of hers, then turned to her daddy. “Martin’s last name is Levinson.”

  James rolled that around on his tongue. “Levinson?”

  Elvie eyed her sharply. “Say it straight out, Rita.”

  “Mama, Daddy, Martin’s Jewish.”

  “You mean white Jewish?” James squinted at his daughter. “Not black Jewish?”

  Rita’s head bobbed and her lip found its way between her teeth.

  James groaned. Elvie stared straight ahead. Tadie tried to remember something her father had said when Bucky asked him about Jews. “My daddy once said that believing Christians are grafted to the vine—the one Jews get born into. By faith for us, so we can be children of Abraham and of the promises too.”

  Rita’s head bobbed faster. “That’s right. Didn’t you read me that? From one of the Epistles?”

  “Aside from being Jewish, he’s white,” James said, a frown furrowing his brow and his eyes open enough to glare.

  Tadie waved her arm in front of James’s face and pointed to her skin.

  Elvie’s eyes bugged slightly, but she grinned in spite of her shock. “My goodness, look at the girl, James. You see what Tadie’s tryin’ to tell us?”

  James crossed his arms. He wasn’t budging. He obviously didn’t like it, and there’d be no shaking him.

  “James, we sit here calling Tadie family, lovin’ her like she’s family. But listen to us.”

  “Miss Sara is Miss Sara. That don’t extend to this Jewish boy.”

  “Why not, Daddy? You taught me I was just as good as white folk. Are you telling me now they’re not as good as we are? That a Jewish boy isn’t as good as I am?”

  Elvie gasped. “Rita!”

  James stood and started pacing. “I just might be.” He squared his shoulders and kept his eyes focused ahead instead of looking at any of them. “He’s not a church-goer.”

  “James, honey, you come sit here by me. Scoot over, Tadie. Let the man in.”

  Tadie moved to the far end of the couch. James was no match for his tiny wife. He lowered himself next to her.

  “Now, James, you’re not meaning these things you’re saying. I know you. You had a different thing in mind for our Rita, and I can appreciate that. But you can’t be saying this when all along you’ve taught the child to be independent-minded. To follow her dream. You can’t.”

  “I surely can.”

  “I tell you what. This young man’s coming in a few minutes. Why don’t we pretend he’s a friend of Tadie’s come to dine with us? Won’t that make it a mite easier this first time?”

  “Don’t see how. I knows who
he’s come for.”

  Elvie turned to Rita and Tadie. “You girls go on down and wait for Martin outside. I need a little time alone with your daddy, Rita.”

  They couldn’t get out of there fast enough. As they raced down the stairs, they felt like children escaping from the principal’s office. By the time they reached Tadie’s porch, they were giggling.

  “Oh my, Tadie. When you stuck out your arm like that—”

  “Did you see your mama’s face? She’d forgotten I was white.”

  “I know!”

  “What do you think she’s telling him?”

  “If I know my mama, she’s telling him to shape up and behave. Can’t you hear her? ‘We’ve got company coming, James Whitlock, and you’ll not disgrace me or this home.’ She’ll mimic your mama something fine and sound more like your mama than your mama ever did.”

  That set Tadie laughing again. “She’s something, that mama of yours. I love her to pieces.”

  A racy black Mustang zipped up the driveway and slowed to a halt near the barn. Rita let the screen door slam behind her and jumped into Martin’s arms before Tadie managed to cross to the porch steps.

  The way he cradled Rita’s face melted Tadie’s reserve. That wasn’t the embrace of a man in lust. That was love shining in his eyes, and if James couldn’t see what was staring right at him, then he needed new glasses.

  Rita led Martin over, her expression as brimful of happiness as his. When he shook Tadie’s hand, his grip was strong and he looked her in the eye.

  “So this is Tadie. You’re famous among Rita’s Raleigh friends. Rita wears that necklace you made for her and delights in telling everyone all about your shop and your work. I’m glad to finally meet you.”

  Tadie couldn’t help but like him. “Are you ready to beard the lions?”

  His arm encircled Rita’s back. Looking down at her, he asked, “How’re they taking it?”

  “I’m not sure which was worse, your skin or your faith.”

  “Well, I can’t change my skin, and I think one is born a Jew and dies a Jew. I may be in trouble here.”

  He said it with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Yes, he’d do well enough.

  Upstairs in the apartment, Martin shook James’s hand with a steadiness that had to impress the older man. When he bent and kissed Elvie’s fingers lightly, she smiled right up at him.

  Tadie liked that he did all this with aplomb and what seemed to her a sense of humor. She winked at Rita.

  “You sit right here and let me get to know you,” Elvie said, patting the couch, “while Rita and Tadie set out the dinner.”

  * * * * *

  Walking back to her house after the early meal, Tadie felt lighter than she had in days. At least things looked good for somebody.

  Maybe Martin hadn’t completely won over James, but he would. Elvie would pray about it and would secure the backing of God.

  Tadie envied Elvie’s ability to hear from God. But to get to that same place, she’d probably have to be as good as Elvie. Tadie Longworth, spinster, had never heard a peep from on high.

  That thought brought a frown to her face. “With all that hullabaloo, there’d better end up being a wedding,” she told Eb as he sped past her into the kitchen. He braked near his bowl.

  She shook in some kibble, but he stared up accusingly. “What?” His gaze seemed to darken. “Demanding, are we?”

  She breathed through her mouth as she opened a can of smelly tuna stuff and spooned some over the dry food. “Here. Enjoy.”

  He rubbed against her leg, his tail switching, before he meandered back to his bowl. “Glad you like it,” she said, washing her hands, pleased that he’d been gentleman enough to thank her. As she filled a glass with water, she noticed the message light blinking.

  “Call me,” was all Isa said.

  Carrying the portable phone onto the front porch and into the lingering daylight, she punched in Isa’s number.

  “What’s going on?” Isa asked. “I saw Will and Jilly coming from the dinghy dock. He says the boat’s still on the hard, but he’s working on it. He was decidedly cold. Poor little mite, she didn’t seem to know what to make of her daddy’s hurry to get past me, and when she asked if she could wait for him in the shop, he spoke sharply to her. I’ve never heard him do that before. I’m not sure Jilly has either.” Isa paused, but Tadie remained silent. “You should have seen that face. I thought she’d bawl right there.”

  “Isa, it’s so awful.”

  “Tell me.”

  She did, haltingly at first. Isa’s response was a stunned, “What got into the man?”

  “That’s not the worst. He said I can’t ever see her again.”

  “Oh, Tadie. That child loves you. It’s obvious to anyone.”

  “And I love her. Maybe that’s the whole problem.”

  “How? You think he’s jealous?”

  “Could he be? But Jilly was drawn to you too. Could he be insecure enough to want Jilly all to himself?”

  “I don’t know. He didn’t seem like that sort of man.”

  “I’ve been driving myself crazy thinking I don’t know how to judge people. That I let people into my heart, and then they turn out to be different from what I imagined.”

  “Well, I’m certainly not one to talk. But if it’s any consolation, I liked Will.”

  “So, we’re both misguided fools,” Tadie said, a catch in her voice.

  “That poor little thing.”

  And poor me. Tadie hated pity parties, but she sure felt another one coming on.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Jilly finished her prayers and tucked Tubby under the sheet. Her daddy sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing back her hair. She closed her eyes. It felt good, even if his fingers were rough like his chin when he forgot to shave. Forgot or was too busy. The bristles were all over his face, but it was all the work on the boat that messed up his skin and made him not very daddy-like.

  All day he’d grumbled about how long it was taking. He’d crumpled up papers, saying no way was he going to pay good money to have some nincompoop like that yard man do something he could do better.

  She had tried to be good and stay out of his way, ’cause he’d talked about sending her to Georgetown. But good hadn’t worked. Now he’d gone and done it. He’d called Aunt Liz.

  She loved Aunt Liz, but she didn’t want to leave Beaufort or her daddy. Why couldn’t she just stay at Tadie’s house if Daddy didn’t want her on board? She was sure Tadie missed her. Hadn’t she said Jilly could have the pretty yellow room whenever she wanted?

  And Isa had told her she could come help in the store. It would work. She knew it would. She didn’t need a babysitter. She was a first mate. First mates knew how to take care of themselves. But when she’d said something about going back to the house, Daddy had gone all red in the face, and his eyebrows had almost hit in the middle. He’d grumbled out a “No,” and when she’d tried to argue, he’d only gotten quieter. So the “No” was the kind that meant business. The kind you’d better not argue with.

  Now, as he straightened, his hand reaching for the light, she whispered, “Daddy?”

  “What, punkin?”

  She hesitated. She wouldn’t argue. She’d just ask, and maybe he wouldn’t get mad. “How come I have to go? I can help you here. I’ll be good.”

  His sigh was so loud it scared her. Sort of like the sighs he used to make instead of getting angry back when they were first learning how to handle the Nancy Grace and things didn’t go so good. He did it mostly in the beginning, when she didn’t know how to be a very good first mate, and he had to steer and trim the sails and tie up and anchor and cook and clean and do the homeschooling all by himself.

  He never yelled. He got mad at stupid men who screamed bloody murder at their wife and kids for not doing things right. Daddy never did that. He just tried to teach her better. And sometimes he sighed.

  She worked really, really hard to learn, because even when Dadd
y tried not to let her see how much he wished Mommy were here to help him, she could tell. Sometimes he kind of looked off into space, and she’d hear him talking out loud when there wasn’t anybody there to talk to.

  After tonight’s big sigh, he hugged her really tight. “I know you will. You’re always good, but things are going to get a lot messier on the Nancy Grace before they get better again. I need you to be in a safe place so I won’t have to worry about you. Can you do that for me? Be a big girl and not fuss?”

  Jilly bowed her head. When he asked like that, what could she do? He was all she had, so it was important to make him happy. And to be good. Whenever he got sad and missed Mommy, she had to be good and stay cheerful and try to help him smile.

  She took the hand that now rested between them and clutched it to her cheek. “Okay, Daddy. I’ll go.”

  The hurricane must have upset him. Maybe it was the mess it had made of the Nancy Grace. Maybe it was because they’d named the boat after Mommy, so if the boat got hurt, it was almost like Mommy being hurt again.

  At least, that’s what made sense to her, since Daddy had been angry since they left Tadie’s.

  There was one thing she had to do before he put her on a plane. She had to see Tadie.

  Tadie’s house was just across the bridge and then a little walk. Okay, maybe a long walk. But she could do it. She’d sneak away while her daddy was busy tomorrow.

  * * * * *

  It seemed like hours before her daddy got up. Jilly dressed Tubby in his little coat so he’d be all ready to go on the plane, and she tried not to think about how mad Daddy would be if she couldn’t get back from town before he found out.

  She heard the water running in the galley and went to help him. While his coffee dripped into the mug, she kept real quiet and got out bowls and cereal. Daddy smiled better after coffee.

  He took a sip, poured milk into the bowls, and sat down at the table. “I bought you a ticket to fly from Raleigh late this afternoon. Aunt Liz will meet your plane in Baltimore.”

  That didn’t leave much time. Please let Daddy be busy.

  “What are you going to do this morning?” she asked around a spoonful of Cheerios.