by Natasha Boyd
We sobered and counted up our points, as neither of us could play our last tile. I lost by seven. And of course, he went to the bookshelf and pulled the official Scrabble dictionary down. “Well, fuck me,” he muttered, and then checked the print date inside the cover. “2006.”
“I thought we covered lying.” I winked.
I winked? Who the hell was I?
“I was just checking. You may have been… mistaken. Anyway,” he said, heading back to the table, “I said I don’t lie. I don’t think you made a claim either way.”
I rolled my eyes. Then as he came past me, he patted my head. That was it, two short, light, friendly taps on the crown of my head where my hair was pulled back into a pony. And my bubble burst. I sank my face down to the table and thunked my forehead onto the scarred wood. Ah fuck.
“What’s the matter?” he asked as he scooped up the scrabble pieces.
“Nothing. I’m tired I guess,” I mumbled into the wood. “I’m going to bed.”
“It’s only five p.m., and you’ve slept for five days.”
I shrugged. Then, getting up and leaving him to put away the game, I headed to my room.
Five minutes later, I opened to his knock, eyeing him warily. He stood holding my new phone out to me, an eyebrow cocked up over a caramel eye.
I took it, careful not to touch the skin of his fingers. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, turning away. Then he swung back. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nodded and closed the door. I felt like my face might betray me at any second. I didn’t know how but I was sure of it.
That night marked the first night since I’d gotten sick that he didn’t sleep next to me. He must be relieved not to be baby-sitting me anymore and sleeping fully clothed.
Right before I fell asleep, earbuds in my ears, listening to songs on my phone, it chirped. I looked at the glowing screen.
Tom: Don’t think I’ve forgotten I get to ask you a question. Sleep well.
A FEW DAYS later, Tom headed to Savannah. I was sitting on the porch with a mug of coffee when he left. The air was cool, and bright and laced with a hint of early-blooming magnolia.
“You gonna be okay ’til tomorrow?” he asked, pulling his backpack over one shoulder.
I nodded, clutching the warm mug between my hands, my knees pulled up to my chin.
Tucking his hair behind his ears, he pulled a black baseball cap on. Then he trotted down the steps and headed out to the tree-lined road, leaving me the cart.
“Hey,” I called. “When can I come with you?”
He stopped, seeming to think on something. “You feel up to coming today?”
“I don’t think so. Besides, I haven’t got my paycheck yet. Next week?”
“Uh, sure.” He turned and headed on down the road.
Don’t sound so enthusiastic, buddy.
It was strange knowing now why he went to Savannah. I couldn’t work out if it was better or worse.
I brought out my grandmother’s recipe book again. Despite my previous failure, I realized I’d like to do something nice for Big Jake.
And, when I thought about it, for Marjoe. If she hadn’t called Tom when I went with Tyler…
And Pete.
And well, Tom too. Definitely Tom.
For the first time in my life, I felt like there were people who cared about what happened to me. It was a strange and sobering thought. I’d never realized the lack as keenly as I did now that I’d met this interesting cast of characters. They didn’t need anything from me, they’d just absorbed me into their daily lives as if I’d always been there.
I closed my eyes, with a sort of happiness in my chest, a simple contentment, in contrast to the unwelcome ache caused by Tom’s absence.
Before
“CAN I TASTE the icing, Gran?” My arm was tired from beating the butter so hard. All the powdered sugar was smoothed in, with a dash of vanilla and lemon zest. It smelled delicious. My tongue tingled and my mouth watered.
“Hold your horses, dear.” Gran bustled over. Her blonde hair, shot through with icy tones just like the frosting, was pulled back, braided, and wound into a tight bun to keep it out of the way. “You’ll get your chance. Let’s just get these cakes frosted first. Then you can lick the bowl clean.”
“Promise?” I swung my legs back and forth under the table.
Gran ran her rough palm over my head and then bent and kissed my forehead. “Promise. You are such a help, thank you.”
Abby was out riding her bike with two kids she’d met who were renting a house near the golf club for the week. I’d tried to keep up with them, but couldn’t, and Abby kept leaving me behind. I had a scraped knee and bruised elbow for my efforts. Gran decided I needed to help her instead.
“You’re welcome.” I grinned, proud of my work and pleased to get to do this with Gran on my own for once.
“Well, if it’s a nice sunset tonight, I think we’ll bathe and eat early and put you both in those new little summer dresses I bought you. I must take a picture of you girls clean at least once this summer, and not like the little beach bum hooligans you are.” She shook her head, smiling, and moved the spreader back and forth in waves as she smoothed the frosting onto a stacked cake.
The clock on the wall ticked loudly. A curious thought popped into my head, one I kept forgetting to ask Gran about. No time, like right now. “Gran?”
“Yes, Honey?”
“Why don’t you like Mom and Dad?”
Her hand stilled. “What do you mean? I love your mother. She’s my daughter. And I like your father just fine too.”
“Oh.” But that didn’t make sense.
Gran resumed spreading frosting, careful not to stop watching what she was doing.
“Well,” I tried again., “it’s just we never all come here, and I thought I heard…”
Gran looked up.
“Um, I heard Mom and Abby talking once…” I trailed off again.
“About what, Honey?”
“Just that Mom wanted us to see you, but that Mom and you had a fight about something, and you weren’t ever going to forgive her. Like ever. Forever, ever.” My nose prickled, and I felt my chin wobble as I tried to speak steady.
Gran put the spreader down and came around to my side.
“What did she do, Gran, that you can’t ever forgive her?”
Her arms went around me. “Oh, Livvy…”
“Wh-what if Abby or I do something real bad one day…” I couldn’t hold back the tears or my cracking voice, “like by accident and you, you stop loving us?” I finished on a cry that snuck out of my heart and hurtled past my last word. And now I couldn’t hold any back.
Gran’s arms went around me, pulling me to her. “Oh, baby girl.”
My heart was bursting and painful with worry, and squeezing it all up into my head so all I could do was let tears out. “W-what if you don’t want us to come here anymore?”
She mashed my wet face against her soft shirt that smelled of sugar and fresh baked cakes. “Livvy, Olivia, listen to me—”
“What if no one loves us, no one wants us anymore?”
Gran squeezed me tighter, almost stopping my air, then pulled me away, taking my face in hers. “Listen to me, Olivia. You are good. You are pure,” she said fiercely. “You and Abby are the most wonderful gifts from heaven. And you will always be able to come here. No matter what. Here will be your safe place. Your place of love. Forever. Okay?”
I stared at her through my blurry tears. Her eyes were filled with tears of her own, but her mouth was set in a determined line.
“Do you understand?” Her hands dropped to my shoulders and shook me. “You can always come here. This is a place of love, Livvy. Always.”
I SNAPPED OUT of my memories and focused on the task at hand. After a massively failed attempt at a lemon cake, and dwindling supplies, I decided on cupcakes. At least if I got it right, I’d be able to share them out. I pulled my new
phone out of my back pocket with the idea of seeing if I could pull up a webpage out here and typed, Why did my cake flop? into the search bar. After watching the wheel spin for what felt like an eternity, I texted Tom.
Can you do an Internet search for why my cake flopped?
I got a text back immediately.
Not even going to mess with that one. Is this an emergency?
Yes.
Riiight. Hang on.
I waited.
And waited.
You know how to do an Internet search, right? You’re not looking it up in the library or something.
God, you’re a smart ass. And I think this counts as an abuse of privilege.
What? The privilege of having a phone?
Yes. Stop bothering me so I can go through the thousands of things you’ve probably done that made your cake flop.
Thousands? Shit.
Baking powder—expired?
I went to check. The cottage phone started ringing, so I veered off course to answer it. “Hello?”
“It’s me.” Tom’s voice had a smoky flavor to it that really did a number on my stomach.
“What are you calling me for?”
“I was tired of typing. Did you check the baking powder?”
“Ugh. I was going to check when I had to come answer the phone, nimwit.” I was smiling.
“Nimwit? What kind of a word is nimwit?”
“A jaunty sounding one?”
Tom broke into a bellow of laughter that made me feel like I’d just won first prize at a swim meet. I could start to like talking on the phone if I got to hear this all the time.
“Hang on, okay?” I let the phone dangle on its cord and headed back to the pantry. My phone chirped.
Hurry up.
I rolled my eyes, my cheeks hurting from grinning, and checked the expiration. All good. I headed back to the phone to let him know.
“The eggs,” he said next. “Did you let them reach room temperature?”
“The eggs!” I yelled jubilantly. “That’s it. I took them straight out of the fridge.”
“Damn,” said Tom.
“Why?”
“I was hoping to make you run around a bit more.”
“Funny. Okay, thanks for your help. I better get baking.”
“Have fun.”
“I will.”
“I’m glad you’re doing something.”
“Well, it makes me feel closer to my grandmother. To Abby. We baked together when we were here. And thank you.”
There was a pause. “You’re welcome.”
I hung up and got mixing and measuring. A few minutes later I got another text.
You better make an extra batch.
Don’t worry. I’m making cupcakes for you.
Thanks, but make extra for you. You’re far too skinny. I’m going to shove cupcakes in your mouth when I get home. Put lots of frosting on them.
The images my mind conjured up of Tom feeding me made my heart beat erratically, so I clung on to the one word that he’d said that calmed me down. Home.
IT WAS LATE afternoon by the time I made it to Mama’s, arms full of passable baked goods. I backed through the door, carrying the large plastic containers packed full of cupcakes, and one full-sized lemon cake for Big Jake.
I didn’t know which one of my grandmother’s cakes was his favorite, but I supposed I’d find out soon enough, and I wasn’t brave enough to attempt his favorite right out of the gate and risk completely ruining his memory of it.
The place was empty, lunch over and dinner not yet begun.
“Hey, hun,” a female voice called behind me. “Let me help you.”
I smelled her floral scent before I turned, and Bethany reached out to relieve me of my containers. Her long auburn hair was in a loose braid over her shoulder. Everything suddenly clicked into place, and all my fragile confidence and security, the bubble of friendship and trust I’d built with Tom, popped and fizzed in a gooey mess down through my body, leaving me lightheaded.
“Are you all right?” she asked, her luminous eyes full of concern. She laid the containers on a nearby table and came toward me.
I stepped back. “F-fine. Just, uh, felt woozy for a minute.”
“Oh, honey, you’ve been so sick. Poor Tommy was out of his mind with worry. I can’t believe you are up and about so quickly. Here, come sit down for a few minutes.”
I couldn’t help cataloguing everything about her. Long hair, slim body, tight pink T-shirt over boobs twice the size of mine. Her teeth were slightly crooked, and her skin bore a few small acne scars that simply made her prettiness more real. I’d just never noticed it before. Why hadn’t it ever occurred to me that Tommy was seeing someone on the island, someone who worked at a place he frequented fairly regularly?
“I’m fine, really.”
“Come and have something to drink and eat while you’re here.” With a friendly smile, she closed her hand over mine. “Tommy’d be upset if I sent you back down the road feeling so out of sorts.”
How much talking about me to Bethany did Tommy do? A lot it seemed. My empty belly that held nothing but taste tests wasn’t feeling so great. Was this what jealousy felt like?
Bethany chattered on as she sat me on a barstool and poured me a large glass of water.
“So what did you make?”
I frowned. “What?”
She nodded at the plastic containers.
“Oh. Uh, I found my grandmother’s recipe book, so I attempted to do some baking. I wanted to make something for Big Jake. Not sure how it turned out.”
“I’m sure it’s great. I wasn’t here when your grandmother was alive, but Big Jake never shuts up about her cakes.”
I swallowed. “So, um, you…” The words had a hard time getting out of my throat. “You and Tom are, uh, you know…”
She flushed and shrugged, a small grin playing around her lips. “Yeah, I guess.”
She guessed? Having the man who drowned every room he entered with his mere presence in her bed wasn’t definitive enough?
“Oh,” I managed. “Sorry about ruining your date the other night.”
“That’s all right. He had a good reason to be freaked out when he heard you were with Tyler.” She rolled her eyes and shuddered, her mouth screwing up with distaste. “You’re lucky. What I wouldn’t have given for a big brother like Tom to save me from some of my past mistakes.”
Big brother.
I swallowed. “Yep.”
She sighed, a dreamy smile on her face. “Anyway, it was so honorable and dashing, it just made him a thousand times more attractive in my eyes.” Then, presumably at the scowl I couldn’t control, “Not that you see him like that, I know, sorry. Ewww. But damn, the man is hot and so very…” She fanned herself dramatically.
I slid off the barstool. “So is Big Jake in?” I hated my terse and dismissive cutoff, but I couldn’t stand another second. This girly bonding was just… ugh. And she was sooo… nice.
“Uh, sure. Sorry, you must be wanting to get home, not feeling so good and all. And here I am yammering on.”
She went through the swinging door into the kitchen.
I covered my face with my hands and took a breath. Then I straightened up, pulled myself together, and followed her.
THE CAKE WAS a success. Or they were just being really, really nice. Honestly, until Bethany wrote Lemon cake ~ only 3 left on the chalkboard outside that passed for a menu, I thought they were kidding. And maybe they still were.
I left a container of cupcakes for Marjoe and went to check on the kittens.
They were nowhere to be found.
“Big Jake,” I called breathlessly, flying back into the back door of the kitchen. “Where’s Miss Geechee and the babies?”
“Oh, Miss Liv. They done got inta trouble with a possum over a set o’ ribs. That possum was rabid. It done kill two kittens.”
“What?” My hand flew up to my chest, my voice wobbling.
“JJ
done shoot ’im dead,” Jake said, his big head shaking from side to side in his usual manner, whenever he encountered something that didn’t bear laughing about. Which was thankfully only about ten percent of life. Maybe less.
“What about my little guy?” I whispered, my eyes stinging.
“JJ took ’em back to the house. I jus’ don’ remember which ones he got.” At the look on my face, he threw his handful of salt into the lobster pot full of grits and went on, “Don’ choo worry, Miz Liv. I’ll check on it and have JJ bring you your little fella. It’s gone be awright.”
I nodded and swallowed a watery gulp. Then nodded again, emphatically, as if I could gain strength from simply agreeing.
“Okay,” I said, finally. “Okay.” And I ran a finger under each eye.
It occurred to me I hadn’t seen Marjoe, so instead of going back out the kitchen door, I waved goodbye to Jake and walked through the restaurant to find Bethany. “Hey, do you know where Marjoe is? She in her office?”
Bethany, capably holding three water jugs in each hand, nodded over to the back wall. “Tommy here this evening?”
“No.” I shook my head. “He’s in Savannah.”
“Oh.” She stopped and looked up from setting the jugs down on the cart. Then she resumed, moving them all into two rows. “He said we’d go together next time he went. To make up for… never mind.”
For me breaking up your sexy rendezvous with the condoms lubricated for maximum pleasure? Twelve of them?
“Uh, I, uh, think he said he had class or something,” I said instead.
“Yeah, I know.” Her sweet eyes pinched together for one second then relaxed. “Oh well, he’s probably fallen behind in the last week.”
What with me being sick and all…
I liked that he’d been taking care of me instead of being with Bethany. Did that make me a bad person?
“Yeah,” I said like a good little sister to the girl who likes her older brother. Then a thought occurred to me. “Where does he stay when he’s in Savannah overnight?”
“Oh, his boat finally came back from the shop. Far as I know that’s where he stays now.”
