The Night the Lights Went Out

by Karen White

  “That doesn’t look right,” Tom said, slowing down the Jeep.

  I’d been looking in the other direction like I usually did when I accidentally went this way and had to pass the house, but Tom’s words made me turn around.

  “See?” he said, pointing toward the lone chimney and the unmistakable column of smoke rising into the early-evening air. “Isn’t this your daddy’s property?”

  I nodded, struggling to find my normal voice. “Nobody’s lived there in a long time. But sometimes Daddy will turn the other way if one of the migrant families needs temporary shelter. That’s why he keeps it stocked with wood. If they decide to stay and work his land, he’ll find a better place for them to live.”

  This was the truth, although nobody had been inside the house for more than a year. And I wondered if Tom noticed that there were no lights on in any of the rooms that might indicate more than one person living there.

  “Let’s go,” I said, as eager to get home as I was to leave this place behind me.

  Tom smiled and took my hand to kiss it, then put his foot down on the gas pedal.

  There’d been no time to finish our house. Only the walls in the bedroom and kitchen had been Sheetrocked—something new Daddy said would be quicker than plastering and just as good—and the outside hadn’t yet been painted. But when we pulled up to the front, Tom laughed.

  “I told Lamar that I wanted a front porch swing. I didn’t think they’d have time to build one and hang it, but I guess I was wrong.”

  He opened my door and swung me up in his arms like a baby. He kissed me properly this time, the kind of kiss that made me forget things like the woods after nightfall. “I’m going to carry you over the threshold for good luck, and then we’re going to rock a bit in the swing. Because that’s how I want to think of you when I’m over there, fighting. I want to picture my beautiful wife sitting here on this swing, saving a seat for me beside her.”

  We sat in the porch swing and huddled under a blanket and talked until the stars disappeared from the sky and the light turned pink. Then we went to bed and Tom made me forget, for a little while, about the war being waged on the other side of the ocean, and the smoke rising from a house that should have been empty.

  Twenty-four

  MERILEE

  As the rear door to the Odyssey lifted, Merilee stifled a groan. Colin’s game tablet—given to him by Michael as a consolation prize for the divorce and disguised as last year’s Christmas present—sat in the middle of the trunk. She slid in her suitcase and picked it up, thinking she could just put it into Michael’s mailbox on the way out of town as she headed to Tybee.

  Or not. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Colin playing with it. Since Sugar had given him the field glasses, they were rarely parted. A few times he’d gone to sleep with them around his neck, and it reminded her of Jimmy. As Merilee had carefully removed them to his nightstand, she’d understood what a gift they had been from Sugar.

  She tossed the tablet back into the car, then closed the door. It would be there if Colin wanted it when she got back. Returning to the house, she made sure the coffeemaker was turned off and unplugged, the thermostat set to sixty-six degrees—five degrees warmer than Sugar had suggested she set it to if she ever had to leave the house for a long period of time—then checked all the windows to make sure they were shut and locked.

  As she locked the front door behind her, she saw again the porch swing hooks and recalled what Sugar had told her about Tom. When she’d reached the part in the story where Tom left to go overseas, Merilee had been pulling up to Sugar’s house and she’d stopped talking. Merilee had turned off the ignition and moved to the other side of the car to help Sugar out—but only because it was too high up; otherwise, Sugar insisted, she could do it herself. Merilee had expected Sugar to invite her inside for some sweet tea so she could finish the story.

  Instead, Sugar had thanked Merilee for the ride and had gone inside by herself, closing the door firmly behind her. For a brief moment, while sitting on that bench in the cemetery, Merilee had imagined they’d made a connection. Maybe even had the foundation for a friendship. Or at least found a substitute for an absent mother and a lost daughter. Instead, it appeared that Sugar might not be the only one attempting to fool herself.

  Merilee spotted Wade’s truck coming up the drive as she walked down the steps and found herself trying to remember if she’d put on lipstick. She even considered opening up the passenger door, where she’d already put her purse on the seat, to sneak a swipe of color. Luckily for her self-respect, he drove quickly and was pulling up beside her before she could even open the door.

  “Hey, Merilee.”

  She almost did a double take to make sure it was Wade and not some businessman in a suit who’d stolen his truck.

  Seeing her glance, he tugged self-consciously on his tie. “I know—weird, huh? I’m headed to a zoning meeting. They probably expect me to appear wearing a hard hat and towing a bulldozer, but I hate to be stereotyped.”

  “Well, if you want them to take you seriously, I think you’ve got it covered.”

  “Thanks,” he said, flashing that smile that wouldn’t look out of place on a magazine cover.

  “I’m heading out for the long weekend—is there anything you need?”

  “Actually, I brought you something.” He reached through his truck’s window and pulled out a brown-paper-wrapped package. “I was stuck at the light at the Crabapple intersection in front of that antiques store on the corner. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s a sign in the front window that advertises old maps. I had a little time to kill between appointments, so I parked and went in.”

  “What did you find?” she asked, feeling pleased he’d thought of her, and also excited to see what was under the wrapping.

  “Check it out,” he said, pulling off the paper and wadding it in one of his hands.

  Her eyes widened. “Wow. I think I’ve seen this before. Well, part of it, anyway.” The old map was framed in simple pine, the glass covering it sporting a small crack in the top right corner. She used her finger to trace the edge of the small lake at the front of the property and the road that skirted around it.

  “You have?”

  Merilee nodded. “Sugar has the other half. It was a wedding present from her father. That half shows the farmhouse and the land where this house was built and the surrounding acres. Pretty much leaves off where this one starts.”

  “They might have been connected at some point—I think they might have been surveyors’ maps back in the day, showing property lines and such.”

  “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.” She frowned, noticing the other half of the clearing in the middle of the woods she’d noticed on Sugar’s map. “What do you think this is?”

  He studied it for a moment, then pulled back. “I have no idea. Considering how old the map is, it’s probably been covered over by now. I bet Sugar knows. There’s nothing about those woods she’s not aware of.”

  “I bet.” She smiled. “Thank you for this. The other one used to hang in the bedroom hallway of this house but Sugar took it down, so she’s still got it. I’ll ask her if I can hang them together.”

  “Or maybe I should. It’s hard for her to tell me no.” He took the frame from her. “And I’d be happy to have them put in matching frames, if you’d like.”

  “Only if you let me pay for it.”

  “If you insist.” He returned the map and the wrapping paper to his truck. “I was going to ask you if I could work on the swing this weekend. I guess if you’re not going to be here, it won’t bother you if I set up shop in your yard.”

  “No, you won’t bother me. But Sugar . . .”

  “I know. She told me about Tom and the swing. But she thinks you and the children would enjoy it.” He started to say something else, then stopped, a slight flush colori
ng his cheeks.

  “What?” she asked, curious. “What else did she say?”

  He met her gaze. “She also said that you and I might enjoy some ‘canoodling’—yes, she used that exact word—on the swing, especially as the nights get colder.”

  It was her turn to blush. “Well, I’ve always wanted to hear how that word could be used in a sentence, and I guess now I know.”

  “Yeah, now we both do.” He grinned again. “So, where are you headed?”

  “Tybee.” Even just the name filled her with a mix of joy and sadness and trepidation. She’d been there to visit her grandparents many times after David’s death, never to kayak or swim in the ocean, and always without her parents. Once her grandparents had died, both while she was in college, she hadn’t been back. Her parents still owned the house, but she had no idea if they ever visited. She never asked.

  “You staying at your parents’ place?”

  She realized that Sugar must have told him about her connection there, and probably about David. She was glad she didn’t have to explain the whole story to Wade and thought that maybe that had been the reason Sugar had told him. She’d never pictured Sugar as a gossip; Sugar had even asked Merilee to find a way to block the Entertainment Television channel because it was all unsubstantiated gossip.

  “Actually, no. They’ve recently put it up for sale.” She swallowed the lump that seemed to creep into her throat whenever she thought about the house being sold. “I’m staying with Heather at their home there. Just the two of us for a girls’ weekend.”

  “Really?” he asked.

  “Why are you so surprised?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just, well, I wouldn’t think that you and Heather had a lot in common. At least the Heather she is now. I’d say you’d be more compatible with how she used to be—when she was more relaxed and natural and not always trying to be perfect.”

  “Gee, thanks. I’m so glad you see that I’ve given up trying to be anything close to perfect.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying . . .”

  “I know,” Merilee said as she opened her car door and climbed behind the steering wheel. “But did you stop to think that the reason why she relates to me could be because she’s still the same person? And that too many of you are judging her because of her glamorous lifestyle and ignoring the person she is? Remember, it wasn’t me she left at the altar, so my opinions aren’t clouded by what she did years ago.”

  His eyes narrowed for a moment. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said as he closed her door.

  She rolled down her window. “If you need anything in the house while you’re working, the spare key is under the planter with the orange mums.”

  “Well, aren’t you just the model of security. A security code that anybody with half a brain can crack, and a spare key in the most obvious place on the planet, where anybody who’s ever watched an episode of Murder, She Wrote would know to look.”

  “Are you done? It’s a five-hour drive and I’d like to get there before it gets dark.”

  “You’re driving? I’m surprised Heather would consider driving in a Honda, even as a passenger.”

  “I don’t know if you realize it, but you just insulted not only Heather but also me, since I purchased this car and drive it every day. And, to answer your question, we’re driving separately. She has a lot of stuff for the house and didn’t think there’d be room for me and my suitcase in her car. And I don’t mind. I find long drives relaxing, and I’ve downloaded an audiobook to listen to on my phone.”

  He held up both hands, palms out. “Sorry—really. I didn’t mean to be offensive, and I apologize. I hope you have a good and relaxing time. You deserve it.”

  Mollified, Merilee thanked him, then started the car.

  “Just in case I don’t see you beforehand, what time should I pick you up for the gala?”

  “I don’t know—I’ll have to ask Heather since she might need me there early. I’ll text you once I speak with her.”

  “Sounds good—have fun. Feel free to call me if you need anything.”

  “I’ll be with Heather at her well-stocked house. I think I’ll manage.”

  “Yeah, well, just in case. Heather seems to attract drama.” He held up his hands defensively. “I know—sorry. Heather’s your friend and it’s none of my business.”

  “Exactly.” She said good-bye again, then drove away from the house, trying to decipher what he meant by Heather attracting drama.

  Merilee headed south through and past Atlanta and had just taken the exit to I-16 east toward Savannah when her phone rang, Heather’s name displayed on the screen. She hit answer, then raised the volume so she could listen to it on speaker.

  “Hi, Heather. Are you there yet? I’m making good time and should be there in about two and a half hours.”

  There was a brief pause, and then: “Actually, there’s a problem. And I apologize for waiting so late to call you, but I was hoping I’d be able to still come. But it’s just impossible.”

  A horn blared from behind her and Merilee realized that she’d braked suddenly. She waved an apology and returned her foot to the accelerator. “You can’t come?”

  “I am so, so sorry. Brooke woke up this morning with a fever, and I kept expecting it to go away, but it hasn’t. It’s not so high that it’s worrying, and I don’t think she needs to go to the pediatrician—yet—but she’s just miserable and all she wants is her mommy. You know how that is. I’d still consider going if Dan were here—he’s so good with the girls—but he left yesterday for his fishing cabin on Lake Murray and I’d hate to make him come home. I’m sure you understand.”

  Merilee was already looking ahead for the next exit, to turn around. “Of course I do. I know how helpless it feels when one of your kids is sick. Michael has the kids all weekend, so I’ll just hang around my house enjoying the peace and quiet . . .”

  “Oh, don’t be ridiculous. You can still go—I want you to go. Trust me, enjoying the peace and quiet at the beach is a lot more fun than staying at home. I’ve had my property manager stock the fridge and wine cellar—and there’s even champagne chilling in the fridge. And orange juice. I remember how much you enjoyed our mimosas.”

  Merilee murmured an assent, remembering how easily the champagne had affected her judgment.

  “I’ve already remotely reset the alarm code to one-one-one-one—see, I remembered!—so you won’t have to use a single brain cell when you’re there. And I had the property manager leave the front door key under the mat. I know that’s stupid, but it’s just for today, and besides, I have an alarm.”

  “Oh, I do the same thing—except I put our key under the flowerpot. I think that it’s so overused and obvious that burglars today don’t bother to look there anymore.”

  Heather laughed, something about it triggering that same unreachable memory again. “See? I knew we had a lot in common! Anyway, I know you’re driving, so I’ll text the steps on how to work the alarm so you’ll have it with you later and don’t have to remember anything or write it down.”

  “I feel so bad staying in your house without you. If Brooke is better tomorrow, will you come down? You need a break, too. Seriously, I don’t know how you do all you do.”

  Heather laughed again, and Merilee bit down on the inside of her cheek, trying to remember why the sound made her wince. “I will—but don’t worry. If I end up staying home with Brooke, I promise to not get out of my pj’s, all right?”

  “Deal. And thanks, Heather. I really can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”

  “Don’t give it another thought—just enjoy yourself.”

  Merilee hung up, feeling disappointed but excited, too. It had been a very long time since she’d spent any time away by herself, without housework or errands or kids or work to occupy her time—much less in a gorgeous oceanfront home. When Heathe
r had given her the address to plug into her GPS, Merilee had out of curiosity searched for it on one of the real estate apps. The house was huge, and brand-new, with every amenity and upgrade—so different from her grandparents’ cottage on Chatham Avenue, which had been built around the turn of the last century and was one of the few remaining beach resort cottages built along the back river and beach.

  She was glad Heather’s home was on the east side of the island and she wouldn’t be passing the old house that held so many memories for her. Seeing a FOR SALE sign would have probably made her cry.

  By the time Merilee reached the Islands Expressway, she’d opened all the minivan’s windows and was listening to a classic rock station she’d found on the radio, the volume turned up embarrassingly high. She remembered from her fall breaks from school that October was the best time to be at Tybee—with most of the tourists gone, along with the pressing heat and humidity of summer. She sang along with Mick Jagger about getting no satisfaction, belting it out in a way that reminded her of Sugar singing in church.

  When she passed Fourth Street the GPS told her to prepare to turn left. Merilee found her shoes on the floor of the car with her feet and slipped them back on as she lowered the volume on the stereo and looked for her turn. Right past Sixth Street she turned left toward the ocean and onto a cement-and-brick driveway.

  She knew what to expect from the photos online. But when she stepped out of the car and heard the ocean and smelled the salt and sea island air, she knew she’d found her way back home. Even without her grandparents, the wild scent of this place would always calm her soul and bring her back to the once-happy little girl she’d been a long, long time ago.

  Quickly sliding out her suitcase and locking the minivan, she headed up the wide stone steps to the wood-and-leaded-glass front doors. She knew there was an elevator in the garage she could have used for her luggage, but she was so used to doing everything herself that it didn’t occur to her to use the elevator until she’d already reached the top step.