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

  Rita waved and hurried out with Martin. He must have grabbed her again, because giggles erupted in the back yard.

  * * * * *

  Sipping her coffee and munching on a blueberry scone the next morning, Tadie felt Ebenezer’s tail swoosh over her slippered feet. She looked under the table to see him licking up the big crumb she’d dropped. “Good job, Eb.”

  Rita padded into the kitchen. “Morning.” She took down a mug and poured herself a cup. “Getting cold out there.”

  The temperature outside hovered in the low fifties. “You only think so because you’ve been spoiled. When I left New York, it was already coat weather.”

  “Tomorrow’s supposed to be better.” Stirring her sweetened brew, Rita grabbed a scone for herself and sat down. The dazzler on her finger winked at them.

  Tadie watched as Rita’s gaze continued to land on the ring. “I take it your parents are thrilled.”

  Rita dropped her hand and her face lit up. “Oh, honey, Daddy about swallowed his tongue staring at this thing. But he patted Martin’s back and looked pretty pleased with himself, as if he’d hand-picked Martin for his son-in-law.”

  “No, really? He’s actually reconciled himself to the idea of Martin being Jewish?”

  “Martin’s been visiting church with us. Says he likes the music. So Daddy probably figures he’s on the way to converting.”

  Tadie stopped the scone halfway to her mouth. “You think?”

  “Probably not, but I’m not saying one way or the other. If it makes Daddy happy, and it makes Martin happy, then I’m for it. What we’ll do later, I don’t know.”

  “And Elvie Mae?”

  “Mama just sits there smiling like she knows the truth about life. I expect she does too.”

  “Don’t you wish we could have your mama’s faith and her peace of mind?” Tadie bit the pastry, chewed, and thought about how some folk found that contentment—and some didn’t.

  “How’s Matt doing?” Rita said, changing the subject.

  “Much better. You know, I think it’s taken this to shake Hannah up, make her realize how much she loves that man.”

  “What? She was getting complacent?”

  “That’s my opinion.”

  “And what about you? Did you get New York out of your system, or are you going back?”

  Tadie ran her finger around the lip of her cup while she gave the idea some thought. “I’ll have to at some point, if only to pick up the rest of my things, but I don’t know if I’ll stay. You’ve been there. The city is exciting and busy, and there’s a lot to do. But I didn’t come away much smarter. No answers, except that I missed home.”

  “What were the questions?”

  Tadie swallowed hard, though by now there wasn’t anything but spit to go down. Instead of answering, she held out her mug. “You want a refill?”

  “No thanks.”

  She poured the coffee, added cream and sugar, and turned to leave the room. “I’ll just take this into the studio.”

  Rita held up her hand. “Before you go, Mama wants to know your plans for Thanksgiving.”

  Hadn’t Hannah said something about that, about hoping she’d join them? “I think Hannah’s going to need company, but probably not the whole crowd, not with Matt still recovering.” That gave her pause. Would Alex be there? They’d had fun—once—but she didn’t think she wanted to spend a holiday with him. “What are you thinking?”

  “Well, either we all celebrate together, or we go with Martin’s idea. He said we should take Mama and Daddy out. His folks will be with his sister this year.”

  Tadie shook her head. She couldn’t picture it. “Take Elvie out to a restaurant instead of her roasting the turkey? Oh, honey, have you asked her yet?”

  “I told Martin I didn’t think she’d go for it.”

  “I’d like to hear her response.” Who on earth could cook turkey to Elvie’s standards? Not even Tadie had ever thought of attempting such a feat.

  * * * * *

  But Elvie did agree. And Alex would be out of town with his girls, thank the good Lord.

  As the big day dawned, Tadie was very glad her first all-by-herself turkey didn’t have to face Elvie’s scrutiny. Who would have guessed she’d have reached the ripe age of thirty-five without having mastered Thanksgiving 101?

  She got the turkey in the oven and set about preparing the stuffing casserole according to Hannah’s instructions. Rita had made pies the day before, both for her to take and for them to eat later at the apartment. “Mama wants her own recipe, you know that,” Rita’d said.

  It really wasn’t so hard, not when the bird took hours to bake with only occasional basting in between. When the buzzer rang, she hefted the pan onto the stove top, and put the stuffing in to brown.

  The stuffing would be ready in about twenty minutes, so she loaded the pies in the car and readied the trunk to receive the hot food. Hannah was making a salad and green beans. Easy with just the three of them, which was about as big a gathering as she felt up to this year.

  She carried the last of her load into Hannah’s kitchen. Hannah had already set the table and was fussing and polishing her water goblets to a shine before she filled them with ice and water.

  “Wine glasses?” Tadie asked, looking around for their usual Sauvignon Blanc.

  “You remember how I got so mad at Alex for bringing hard liquor to the house?”

  “Because Matt drank too much of it.”

  “He was sloshed. So, when Alex moved in, I suggested we make a no-alcohol-in-the-house rule, the only way I’d have some control over what went on at my dinner table.”

  “That meant you had to quit with the wine?”

  “Honey, if that’s all it took, I was happy to do it.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Not with Alex. But at dinner? Yes ma’am. I miss a glass with my meal, but nothing was worth seeing Matt like that again. Maybe when he’s all well and Alex is gone, we can go back to the way things were. But only if it seems right.”

  Tadie carried the water glasses to the table. “So, how’s it going, having him still here? I thought he was beginning to behave himself.”

  “I tell you, I was never so glad of anything when he said he was going off.” Hannah leaned on the back of a chair. “Having Alex underfoot is getting on Matt’s nerves, but every time he asks Alex about his prospects for a rental, his brother says they’re all either too expensive, too old, or too far away.”

  “Maybe we ought to hunt up a place for him.”

  Hannah grunted. “Haven’t I thought of doing just that? Matt’s so good-hearted, he lets Alex walk all over him. Alex still spreads himself all over the den and takes control of the TV remote, saying Matt should come join him. But even if it’s something Matt wants to see, he knows I won’t, so we go upstairs.”

  Tadie pointed to the food ready to be served. “Come on. I’ll carve while we talk.”

  “How about you and Rita?” Hannah asked, holding a plate while Tadie filled it with white meat for Matt. “You okay with her there?”

  “It’s fun having someone else in the house. You know how I rattled around alone.” Tadie picked up a second plate as Hannah spooned on vegetables and stuffing. “And with her doing a lot of the cooking, I’ve had time in the studio. I missed working when I was in New York.”

  Carrying the filled plates to the table, Hannah called for Matt. “Are you pleased with how things are turning out? You seemed pretty frustrated before you left.”

  “I was.” Tadie covered the turkey with foil and looked around the kitchen. “What’s next?”

  “Gravy,” Hannah said, her hands full of salad plates.

  Tadie brought in the gravy and waited as Matt lumbered to the table. He surveyed the feast. “Ladies, this looks wonderful.”

  “Tadie did most of it. Thank her,” Hannah said.

  “I’ll do that. Now you two sit down and let’s say grace. Smelling this is making me hungry.”

  “Thank
God,” Hannah said. “That you’re hungry, I mean.”

  Matt’s blessing varied from his normal short-and-sweet version. He had a lot to be thankful for, he said, but when he got to thanking God for saving his life, the tears spilled onto Hannah’s cheeks.

  “It’s just joy,” she said, swiping at them and sniffling.

  Matt spooned a dollop of cranberry sauce onto his stuffing and took a bite. “Mmm,” he said around a mouthful.

  Hannah leaned toward him. “You eat as much as you want, honey, and any leftovers can go to the shelter. Seems the kids like to snack, and there’s never extra.”

  “Those are Rita’s words,” Tadie said. “She was disappointed they wouldn’t have any to take since they’re eating out.”

  “What a hoot that Elvie agreed.” Hannah took a large bite of turkey and stuffing, and her eyes lit.

  “She said she wanted to try having someone in a fancy restaurant wait on her. Besides, no dishes.”

  Matt excused himself before they’d even served pie. Once he’d gone to lie down in the den, Tadie said, “You do know I still have to deal with my place in New York.”

  “Because you’ve been so busy holding my hand. I can’t tell you how much—” Hannah stopped to pull the tissue out of her sleeve and blow her nose.

  “You’re exhausted. Matt’s not the only one who needs to recover. Look at you.”

  Hannah twisted the tissue and wiped her face. “It’s been hard. You know. You’ve watched it.”

  “So, drive up to New York with me and help me clear out the place. Take a break.” She couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice.

  “How can I leave him?” Hannah asked, looking toward the den with a troubled expression.

  “You’d better be asking how you can stay. You’ve lost at least twenty pounds, and you look terrible.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “You know what I mean. And look at your plate. All you’ve done is push your food around. You haven’t had a moment to yourself since this whole thing started. Matt knows you’re devoted. Do you think he’s going to begrudge you the time away?”

  “But—”

  “Hire someone to stay with him. Call the home health people. They’ll give you the name of a caregiver. Besides, he’s not an invalid anymore. He just needs to rest a lot.”

  “I know.”

  “So?”

  Hannah shut her eyes momentarily. When she opened them, a tiny smile curved her lips. “Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll come.” Just saying it aloud seemed to loosen her tension, releasing a sparkle that hinted at the old Hannah. “Get your credit card ready, girlfriend. We’re going to party.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Tadie slid behind the steering wheel as Alex hefted Hannah’s suitcase into the trunk. He showed up at the driver’s side window and leaned in before she could turn the key in the ignition.

  “You sure I can’t drive you two north? I know the way like the back of my hand and, besides, I haven’t ever seen the city with you.”

  “And you’re not going to this time either,” Tadie said. “You just stay right here and entertain your brother. You owe him.”

  The flirtatious look in Alex’s eyes vanished, replaced by an expression that made Tadie turn her head, put the car in gear, and back quickly down the drive. It seemed the real Alex had returned.

  Hannah laid her head back when Tadie suggested they take Route 17 north instead of heading over to the interstate. “That’s fine,” she said. She napped most of the way up through Little Washington to Elizabeth City and perked up when the road paralleled the Dismal Swamp. After they’d crossed the Chesapeake Bridge Tunnel and hit the Eastern Shore, she began flipping through the radio stations, hunting for some country music. They laughed over an old song about itty-bitty everything, wailed along with an old Patsy Cline tune, then whooped it up with Garth Brooks. They stopped for a barbecue sandwich in some remote place along the highway, where they slurped iced tea and wiped hot sauce off their cheeks.

  “Dang, girl, this is great,” Hannah said. “You know, I think this is the first adventure we’ve gone on—just the two of us—since college. We ought to do it more often.”

  Hannah took over the driving after lunch, and Tadie napped. After the last pit stop in Delaware, Tadie slid behind the wheel again, and trading off like that, they made it to New York City in fourteen hours.

  “We’ll order dinner in,” Tadie said as she collected the mail that had been crammed into her box. “Indian?”

  “You can do that? I mean, they’ll deliver Indian food right here?” Hannah leaned against the elevator wall looking very pleased.

  With a nod of her head, she led the way off the elevator and to her door. “I’ve got the menu in the kitchen.” She unlocked the door, picked up a note that had been slipped under it, and pointed Hannah to the stack of flyers from neighboring restaurants before going to turn up the heat.

  “I’m starving.” Hannah bit the tip of a pen as she studied various options, then handed her list to Tadie. “Will these work?”

  “Good choices,” Tadie said after scanning the list. Her stomach rumbled. Time for food, wine, and rest.

  While she phoned in their order, Hannah wandered to a window that looked down on a small park and said, “I’ve never seen anything like New York at night.”

  “Something else, isn’t it?”

  The apartment felt different with Hannah in it. Less lonesome, certainly. Warmer. Wasn’t it going to be fun, showing Hannah the city that had never quite become hers? Although it felt like a waypoint, it was one she’d explored and Hannah hadn’t. Yet.

  “Make yourself at home,” she called, rolling her bag to the bedroom. “You want the bathroom first?”

  Hannah didn’t turn. “You go ahead.”

  “Food should be here in about twenty minutes. I won’t be long.”

  Hannah was rummaging for place settings when Tadie returned to the kitchen. “What are we drinking?” Hannah asked.

  “Shiraz? I know I have that. Maybe a Pinot Grigio.”

  “You choose. I’ll be glad to have a glass of anything.”

  She uncorked the red and half-filled two glasses. “This is a good one. Or at least its sibling was.”

  “Thanks,” Hannah said, taking hers and sipping as she counted out silverware and napkins.

  Her wine in one hand and the mail in the other, Tadie settled on the couch to sort through what had accumulated since she’d left. Some had been forwarded from Beaufort before she’d remembered to tell them she was home. There were statements of bills paid online, several fliers announcing sales or shows, a couple of letters, and an invitation to a bazaar to help fund a homeless shelter.

  Their dinner arrived while she was still sifting through the stack.

  Hannah tipped the boy and spread the feast on the table. “Look at this stuff. Come on. You’ve got to be hungry too.” She finally glanced up. “What’s that?”

  Tadie stared at the envelope in her hands. “I don’t know. It looks like a letter from Will Merritt. You know, Jilly’s father.”

  “Right. The boater. Nice guy.” Hannah sat down and started spooning out portions for herself. “Either open it or come eat. I’m starving.”

  Tadie still held the unopened letter when she sat down at the table. Hannah passed the rice. Tadie laid the letter by her plate and spooned out rice and dahl, adding a portion of curried chicken. She stared at her plate.

  Hannah’s fork stilled.

  “What?” Tadie asked.

  The other woman pointed at the envelope with her fork. “You have something going on here you forgot to mention?”

  “No, not really.”

  “This stuff is good,” Hannah said around a forkful of lentils. “You ought to try it. What do you mean, ‘not really’?”

  “The last time I saw Will Merritt, he told me never to contact his daughter again.”

  “And that was because?”

  Tadie told her. At least, she told
her most of it. She didn’t say a thing about her fantasies or that Will’s words had devastated her.

  Hannah must have heard what wasn’t said. She spoke gently as she stabbed a piece of chicken. “You love that little girl, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What about her father?”

  The heat began its tale-telling climb up her neck to her cheeks. Tadie tried to cover it by cutting into the chicken. “He’s a jerk.”

  Hannah jabbed the fork in her direction, dropping a piece of meat just off her plate. “Sara Longworth, you stop that right now. You can’t fool me. So tell.” She picked up the lamb and popped it in her mouth.

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “Excuse me, but that blush means something.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Maybe you can fool some folk with talk like that, but remember me? The person who’s known you forever?”

  “I hate him.”

  “Sure you do.”

  Tadie set down her knife and fork and picked up the envelope, but all she could do was stare at it. It didn’t weigh much. It was probably just a thank-you note. Maybe if she let Hannah read it, they could move on to some other topic. Something safe, like what show they wanted to see or where they’d shop tomorrow.

  Slipping a finger under one corner, she ripped at the envelope. Still, she hesitated. What if he’d written ugly words like the last ones he’d said? She shook her head.

  He wouldn’t. No one would commit those to paper.

  But what if Jilly were miserable and he blamed it all on her?

  “You gonna read it or not?” Hannah extended her hand. “If you want, I’ll read it for you.”

  It was just a piece of paper. Who cared what it said? If Will Merritt wanted to be a creep in writing this time, so what? She yanked out the folded sheet and flipped it open.

  Dear Tadie.

  “Out loud,” Hannah said.

  “Shhh.”

  “Come on, you can’t not share it.”

  She clutched the paper to her breast, glaring at her friend. Hannah’s eyes widened. Tadie touched her forehead, closed her eyes, and whispered, “I’m sorry.” She began reading aloud.