He heard Liz ask Jilly to go stir the chili. Then Liz spoke into the receiver. “Will, I couldn’t help overhearing what Jilly said. The child talks about this Tadie person all the time, about how much fun the three of you had together. She keeps asking if we can call her. Is there some reason you wouldn’t let her say good-bye?”
“Only something stupid. A foolish misunderstanding.”
“Well, you listen to me. If this has anything to do with loyalty to Nancy, get that out of your head right now. My sister would want you and Jilly to be happy. You hear me?”
He pictured Nancy’s spitfire older sister standing there with one hand on her hip, glaring. “Yes ma’am. I hear you.”
“All right. Now, when can we expect you?”
“Depends on this storm, but I’m hoping by the end of the week.”
“The child misses you. I love having her, but it’s you she wants.”
Will disconnected and sat in his cabin, thinking about Liz’s words. Maybe she was right.
And then he imagined the same scenario, but Nancy widowed and alone with Jilly. What would he want for her?
That’s when he picked up a pen and began the letter he should have written months ago. He hoped the Beaufort Post Office had a forwarding address in New York.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Tadie turned off the hair dryer and finger-fluffed her curls. Her cheeks and eyes glowed—finally—which showed how much her body craved activity. What she’d needed had been to get off her duff, walk ten miles, and then stand under scalding water.
No more pining or depression for her.
She pulled on her socks. This morning had also provided another germ of insight.
Germ. Good word. But now was not the time to dwell on that one.
“If not now, when?”
She glared at the mirror. Soul-searching never offered a compliment.
She wiped down the basin with cleanser and picked at the nasty spot of rust that just didn’t want to come up. Draping the bathmat over the shower rod, she noticed her towel hung at an angle. She refolded it.
A second glance into the mirror and her reflection stared back. Had she thought her eyes bright? Now they squinted at her.
The words first choked in her throat. The squint tightened, and out they spewed like seawater from a nearly-drowned man. “Self-absorbed. That’s what you are.” A deep pouf of breath left her lips. “Think on that, why don’t you?”
She swiveled out the door. She’d been right. Harsh words did not sit well.
“You really do need to get over yourself,” she told the body scurrying toward the kitchen and a cup of tea.
Over herself?
Well, yes.
She’d brushed past a homeless man today. Several homeless men, as a matter of fact, along with a bedraggled female panhandler and a blind street musician. As New York had its big-city share of the poor and downtrodden, these weren’t the first she’d come across. But today she’d actually seen them.
And the now-niggling questions, which grew louder by the moment, required answers. She, Sara Longworth, daughter of Samuel and Caroline Longworth of Beaufort, NC, was not homeless, hungry, ill, or dying. Thanks in part to her parents and forebears, she lived a cushy, self-absorbed life. So where did she get off having a pity party because they’d died and she had no one to take their place?
Look at Elvie Mae and James. At Rita. Elvie called it, “A life well lived.”
Tadie had better figure out what that meant, because focusing on her own worries was a sure path to the therapist’s couch and only added to the multiplying cells of misery in the world.
The mug sat in front of her, but she couldn’t bring herself to drop in a tea bag. If she absorbed that revelation the way the water absorbed the tea, she’d be required to act on it.
Right. There she went again, those twenty orphans. Or something else to get her focused on more than herself.
Her cell phone rang from the bedroom. She dashed to retrieve it, not because she needed a reprieve from those thoughts—although she did—but because the call might be important.
It might.
She answered without looking at the caller ID.
“Where are you?” the voice asked.
Coming at the tail end of the conversation she’d just been having with herself, a strange man asking questions made her angry. “Who’s this?”
The voice sounded amused. “Don’t tell me you don’t know.”
She looked at the dial. A 252 area code. North Carolina. It couldn’t be.
“Alex?”
“Right the first time. I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“Why?”
“Is that any way to greet me?”
“I’m not greeting you. I’m trying to find out what you need.”
“Hannah’s with Matt at the hospital. He’s not doing well.”
Matt? “What happened? Did his cold get worse?”
“That cold turned into pneumonia.”
“And she didn’t call me?” Hannah had let it get to pneumonia without telling her? Hannah had made light of the cough. Tadie shut her eyes for a moment. Why hadn’t she listened more closely? “I’ll get the first flight out. Tell her, will you?”
“I’ll pick you up. Just let me know when.”
“No, don’t bother. I need to phone James anyway.”
“I’ll talk to James,” he said. “We’ll work it out.”
He didn’t wait for her response, but she had no time to worry about Alex’s rudeness. Instead, she went online and booked a flight to New Bern. Then she phoned James and arranged for a car to pick her up and get her to LaGuardia.
She tossed things in her suitcase and stuffed it closed. Her computer fit in her carry-on bag. The rest would have to wait.
Her driver knew which streets to avoid and got her there with time to spare for check-in and security. The plane took off on time, and all she could do was sit back and wait. There was still a connection to make in Charlotte.
She tried to close her eyes and keep her brain on auto-pilot, but her morning’s revelations seemed particularly apropos now. Her best friend had been in pain, and she hadn’t even noticed.
* * * * *
James waited just inside the New Bern terminal. She ran into his arms.
“It’s okay, Miss Sara. It’s going to be okay.”
“Do you know anything more?”
“Only what Alex told me.” James led her to the baggage carousel. “Fool man tried to say he’d be the one to come get you.”
“Thank you. I don’t think I could have faced him tonight.”
“No, and you shouldn’t have to. I had Rita phone over to the hospital to get word to Hannah. Wrote down the room number.” He handed her a slip of paper.
“They may not let me in this late,” she said, grabbing her suitcase and pulling it behind her, “but I’ve got to try.”
James nodded. “I’ll wait for you, Miss Sara. You do what needs to be done.”
* * * * *
James dropped her off at the front door, and she strode in as if she belonged, nodding at the security desk. Visiting hours ended at nine. It was eight-fifty.
When she saw Hannah’s grief-stricken face, she rushed forward and pulled her into a fierce embrace. “Why didn’t you call me? I would have come straight back. Nothing would have kept me away.”
Hannah’s sobs dampened Tadie’s shirt. Tadie tightened her hold, whispering soothing noises. She never should have left town.
Finally, Hannah sniffled and backed up to blow her nose on the already damp tissue she clutched. “The doctor just left,” she said, as she tried to gulp air. “They’re doing more tests and might have to move him back to the ICU. What if he doesn’t make it? What if ...”
The sobbing started again.
All Tadie could do was circle her friend’s shoulders and hold on.
This time they both wept.
* * * * *
Tadie spent as much time as
she could at the hospital, holding Hannah’s hand or relieving her for a few hours so she could go home to shower or take a nap and catch up on the rest she wasn’t getting in the chair next to Matt’s bed. Because his room faced the nurses’ station, they hadn’t moved him to the ICU after all. Something about a shortage of beds. But he lay attached to tubes and lines and things that bleeped and sputtered.
Tadie listened as Hannah spoke in low tones. First, it was of falling head over heels in love with Matthew and marrying him. “It was a beautiful wedding, wasn’t it, Tadie?”
“The best.”
Hannah’s meanderings took in the long years of hoping for a child. Of losing the babies. Of planning to adopt. And of deciding, finally, that the two of them were enough for each other. Tadie listened and sympathized as if she didn’t know the story by heart.
“But in these last years, we got too busy. Matt was always at work. I was trying to find enough to do. We missed too much time when we should have been enjoying each other.”
Tadie tried to soothe her, but other than whispering platitudes, she didn’t know how to answer.
“Dear Lord,” Hannah said, choking back tears. “I can’t lose him.”
“You won’t,” Tadie said. “Look at all those strong antibiotics they’re pumping into him. And all the prayers. You know folk are praying.”
Hannah nodded feebly.
“You remember Jilly? That child could pray up a storm. She put me to shame.” Tadie didn’t mention how their leaving had thrown her faith back in the trash bin and piled refuse on top.
“What happened to them?”
“I don’t have a clue.” Tadie hoped Hannah wouldn’t probe and then felt disappointed when she didn’t.
By the time Tadie got home, she felt wrung out emotionally. At least Rita’s work schedule gave her time to fix wonderful meals for the two of them and for her parents, making Tadie feel pampered in a way she hadn’t since Elvie first got sick. Besides, having someone there at the end of the day, someone with whom she could talk—or not—was a huge comfort.
She climbed the apartment stairs to check on Elvie before going to her own house. Elvie liked to be up doing things when she could, and she greeted Tadie from her post at the stove.
“Sure smells good in here,” Tadie said. “Pudding?”
“Yes ma’am. That girl of mine brought the roast, but I thought a little pudding would go down just fine after. I’m making enough for you girls too.”
“Yum. I love your puddings. And chocolate?” Tadie’s sigh brought a grin to Elvie’s face.
“Rita told me about that lift for outside.” Elvie shook the pudding spoon in Tadie’s direction. “My arm don’t keep me from walking or climbing steps. You tryin’ to turn me into an old woman? I won’t be thanking you if that’s what’s on your mind, young lady.”
“No ma’am,” Tadie said, leaning over to hug Elvie.
James wandered in to poke a finger in the pudding and taste it. “Just about right,” he said. “Those steps are gonna keep us young, Miss Sara. Livin’ long. When these here bodies quit, that’s when we can be thinking of ways to ease them.” He patted her shoulder. “We appreciate the thought, though. You’re mighty good to be thinkin’ of us.”
Tadie had to turn away to swipe at the wetness she found foolishly pooling in her eyes. Why had she ever gone away? She’d been crazy.
* * * * *
Alex showed up on her doorstep early the next evening before Rita returned home, still in his work clothes and holding out a sack.
“Hey, Tadie. I know you’ve been in and out of the hospital with Hannah, so I brought something in case you haven’t eaten yet.”
She let him in, curious now. He’d behaved himself since she’d come home, and Hannah reported that he’d been taking care of everything while Matt was sick. She could at least be civil.
He followed her to the kitchen and unloaded his bag. “Chicken burritos, black beans, rice, and incredible nachos and salsa. Here,” he said, pulling out a small container, “is your old favorite, guacamole.”
The words made her salivate, not to mention the smells. “Alex, where did you get this?”
“Plaza Mexico. It’s a bit noisy and crowded, so I figured take-out would be good.”
Mexican food worked. She might even enjoy the meal, as long as he didn’t get any ideas. “Water?” she asked.
“Water’s fine. I brought limes. Did you know they call them limons? But they’re green.”
Tadie filled two glasses with ice and water and slid one toward him. And then she remembered. “Did you bring enough for Rita? She’s due home soon.”
His brows tented. “I thought she’d have gone back to her parents by now.”
“More room here. Besides, I like the company.”
“Then there’s not enough.”
She merely watched him. Hannah had hinted at changes, but he sounded like his old grumpy self to her.
When he stood and headed to the back door, she continued to wait. His expression hadn’t changed, but his words surprised her.
“Phone in an order for her.” He flicked fingers toward the bag. “The number’s there. I’ll go back and get it.”
“I don’t know what she’d like.”
“Then call her.”
Tadie picked up the phone and punched in Rita’s number. “Hey, it’s me,” she said. “Alex is feeding us tonight. Mexican. What do you want?”
“Oh,” Rita said, sounding as surprised as Tadie had been. “I just heard from Martin and was about to call you. He’s got an interview in New Bern tomorrow, so he’s on his way there. I’m going to meet him for dinner.”
“Lucky you. I’ll see you when you get home.”
“Be careful, Tadie.”
Alex would have a lot of catching up to do if he wanted to win any points from Rita or her parents. “I will. You too.”
She hung up the phone and turned back to Alex. “I guess there’s enough after all.”
His grin lit that too-handsome face as he lifted her everyday plates from the cupboard next to the sink. “O-kay!”
Tadie couldn’t believe how much fun they had as they ate the messy food. There was no pressure and no talk about the past or Bethanne. Alex made her laugh with stories from work, even a few self-deprecating ones.
“You won’t believe the e-mail I sent out last week.” He ran his fingers through that shock of dark hair and loosed his killer smile again. “I’d drafted an order for one of the big distributors at the same time I wrote a notice to our employees to tell them we’d be stepping up the random drug tests and that I expected them to be sober at all times.”
“You don’t mean …”
He nodded. “I didn’t realize I’d done it until the vice president of the company wrote back to ask what was going on and why I was issuing drug-use warnings to him.”
Stories eased their way back to a level of comfort, and he didn’t mar it by staying late. “I’ve been up since dawn,” he said. At the door, he paused. “Maybe we can do this again soon.”
Maybe so. He’d been the perfect gentleman, and his offer to buy Rita a meal had certainly been more than she’d expected from him. Perhaps the old Alex was back after all.
The pre-Bethanne Alex.
* * * * *
Tadie was in her studio, the soldering torch ready to light, when Hannah phoned. She answered as she eased down onto her studio couch. “Hey, girl. What’s happening?”
“They brought food in at noon, hospital food. Horrible stuff, but it hasn’t bothered Matt up to now, mostly because he hasn’t eaten much of it. Anyway, this time he stared down at his tray and got that look. You know the one—scowling with his eyebrows all squinched. I offered to go get him something that tasted better.”
She waited. Hannah’s pause was obviously to build suspense, so she wouldn’t spoil it.
“He told me I’d better bring enough back for myself, too, because he didn’t want to be hugging bones when this is all ove
r.” Hannah’s laughter interrupted her words. Once she’d calmed enough to continue, she said, “Can you believe it? He told me I should know by now he likes something to grab hold of. Glory!”
Tadie pictured Hannah’s fingers fluttering in the air and her arms waving as she did a happy dance. “Of course he does. He loves you just the way you used to be.”
“Fat. I know.”
“You’ve never been fat. Just endowed.”
“Whatever. But if a man’s thinking about you that way, you know he’s on the mend.”
“Amen,” Tadie said, more to agree than because she knew what Hannah was talking about. She whispered another “amen” to the empty room—as a prayer this time that maybe someday she’d know for herself. Maybe someday she’d have a man who would joke about her bones.
After her own lunch, she drove to the shop to work on inventory, which took far longer than she’d anticipated. By the time she pulled in the driveway and parked behind Rita’s car, she was too exhausted to notice that Martin’s Mustang stood at the curb. Sure, she’d seen something from the corner of her eye, but it wasn’t until she approached the back door that her brain linked the image to Martin.
She hated to intrude on so passionate an embrace, but she was hungry. Maybe she could sneak in, get something from the refrigerator, and take it upstairs with her. Or send them upstairs. Or to the living room.
She tried to tiptoe, but Rita turned quickly, her face darkening to a lovely hue.
“Hi, Tadie. Lookee here.” She waved her left hand, showing off a big, emerald-cut diamond.
“That’s some statement, Dr. Levinson.”
“It’s meant to be.”
“Well, congratulations.” She pulled Rita into a hug. “I couldn’t be happier for you both. Have you told your parents?”
“Not yet. We’re going over now.”
Tadie wiggled all ten of her fingers. “Let me know what your daddy says about that, will you?”
Rita grabbed Martin’s hand and led him to the door.
“You coming back here tonight?” Tadie asked.
“Are you sure you want me to now that your time’s freed up?”
“I told you, there’s no sense in you taking up space in that small apartment when I’ve got a whole house mostly empty. Besides, Eb thinks you’re his new best friend.”
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. Page 23
