Last Light over Carolina

by Mary Alice Monroe

  It was late afternoon and the docks were lined two deep with dozens of shrimp boats returned from a day’s work, each with its riggings up, creating a blur of nets. Odelle hurried to catch up, linking arms with Carolina. Ahead on the narrow dock, three young men were walking toward them, their T-shirts stretched over lean, muscled bodies. They wore torn shorts over deeply tanned legs and the white rubber boots that marked them as shrimpers. Their carefree laughter and the swagger of their walk told the world that the docks, the boats, and the sea made up their empire.

  They looked to be about the same general age and build. She knew they’d spotted the three women walking toward them because the one on the right leaned over to mutter a few words that caused the other two men to smile and chuckle. She glanced at Judith. Her face had scrunched into a frown. Then she turned to Odelle, who held her shoulders back and lifted her hand to smooth her hair, a sure sign she was cocked and ready.

  As the three men drew closer, Carolina stole a furtive glance at them. Her stomach clenched and she could feel a blush creep up her neck to her cheeks. Then, without warning, the man in the center lifted his head and their eyes met.

  Carolina sucked in her breath. It felt as if time stood still. She was aware only of him; the rest of the world disappeared. His eyes drew her in like a blue laser; she couldn’t look away. It was a handsome face—well-formed lips, chiseled features, brown hair brushed back from his forehead. She memorized each detail even as the zing of attraction melted her spine. Her mind, her body, every cell screamed that this man was the one she would love forever.

  He felt it, too. She knew it instinctively.

  She was vaguely aware that she was walking, heard mumbled hellos echo as they awkwardly passed each other. It all happened in a blur. When she could breathe again, she realized that, unbelievably, they were walking away. She stopped abruptly to look over her shoulder. He’d looked back, too, as though to make sure he’d seen what he thought he’d seen.

  He saw her looking at him. She was sure of it because the ghost of a smile crossed his lips. Then he turned away and kept walking down the dock.

  “Oh, my, my, my,” Odelle said, squeezing her arm. “Weren’t they dreamy? I call dibs on the tall one in the middle. Did you see him look back? I waved at him. Nothing showy, just a brief…” She waggled her fingers. “I’m sure he saw it. Did you see him smile?”

  Carolina couldn’t answer. She was in a daze, not sure that what had just transpired was real.

  “Are you coming or what?” Judith called from a few yards ahead. Her hand was over her eyes, shielding them from the western sun, but Carolina could see she was still frowning.

  Carolina had forgotten all about the jon boat. “We’re coming,” she called back. When they caught up with Judith, she asked, “Isn’t there a dance in town tonight?”

  The Labor Day dance was held at a converted warehouse in town. It was an event the town anticipated eagerly. The Mercantile had been decorated with colorful paper lanterns and was packed with young and old alike. Carolina waved at Aunt Lucille chatting with friends near the punch table.

  She stood against the side wall of the dance hall, shoulder to shoulder with Odelle and Judith. The three were a united front, aware that everyone in the room was eyeing the pretty new teachers in town. Carolina nervously fingered her strand of pearls. She wore her favorite green paisley print dress and had spent hours getting her hair to flip back like Farrah Fawcett’s. Even though the big, barnlike doors were open wide to the night air, she could feel her curls drooping in the intense humidity of the packed room.

  Odelle leaned close to whisper, “I don’t see them.”

  Odelle’s brown hair fell like a waterfall down her shoulders. Carolina bit her lip as she glanced at the cherry-red halter top that accentuated Odelle’s slim shoulders and waist. Carolina knew they were both looking for the same guy, and her own dress with the puffed sleeves, while pretty, seemed tame in comparison. Flirting was a competitive sport.

  Carolina’s gaze swept the dance floor, but she didn’t see him anywhere.

  “Which one are you looking for?” Odelle asked.

  “No one in particular.”

  “Uh-huh,” she replied in a tease.

  Carolina released a reluctant smile. “Okay, I know this sounds weird. But when they walked past us on the dock, the guy in the middle looked up all of a sudden and we locked gazes. It was only for a second, but it was like time stood still. I had this mule-kick feeling and thought, Oh, Lord, he’s the one.”

  Odelle’s slim brows gathered in doubt. “So, you’re trying to tell me it was love at first sight?”

  “Something like that.”

  Odelle sniffed. “I don’t believe in it. And I never pegged you for a romantic.”

  Carolina crossed her arms and gazed out over the dance floor. She prided herself on being sensible and modern. She had been president of her sorority and had “Most Likely to Succeed” written under her yearbook photograph. The two marriage proposals she’d received during college had been delivered by men so young and foolish that she’d never considered either one seriously. Until today, she would have laughed and agreed with Odelle.

  Judith smoothed her navy skirt. “I don’t believe in it either. My mother’s friends like to talk about how they met their husbands. Every once in a while you get the one who tells about the day she just looked across a crowded room, saw this guy standing there, and bam—she knew he was the one.” She chuckled. “What a load of crap. It was the wine talking.”

  Odelle giggled and leaned over to face Judith. “Those poor, socially inhibited women weren’t in love, just in lust,” she said in a tone of authority. “They didn’t have the freedom that girls today have to experiment a little before settling down.”

  “So now I’m socially inhibited?” Carolina asked. Odelle’s teasing was beginning to annoy her.

  “I wouldn’t know about that,” Odelle said sweetly. She winked and leaned back against the wall. “Let’s just see what happens tonight.”

  “I’m thirsty,” Judith said. “Want to get some punch?”

  “Is it spiked?” asked Odelle.

  Carolina was about to reply when she saw a young man approaching. She recognized him as one of the three men she’d seen on the dock earlier. He smiled at all three girls, but his gaze landed on Carolina.

  “Hi, Red.”

  Carolina narrowed her eyes. “Didn’t I see you on the dock today?”

  “Yep. And I sure saw you. I’m Lee Edwards.”

  Carolina was struck by his cool confidence. She found him attractive, with his pale blue eyes and shaggy blond hair. “I’m Carolina Brailsford, and this is Odelle Williams and Judith Baker.”

  Her friends muttered polite hellos, aware that Carolina had his attention.

  “Carolina’s a pretty name,” Lee said, returning his gaze to her. “Would you like to dance?”

  He wasn’t the one she’d come for, but to refuse would be rude, so she smiled and extended her hand. “Sure.”

  He took her hand and guided her to the middle of the floor. The song had a slow, steady beat, and their feet shuffled in a smooth shag. He was an exceptionally good dancer, twirling her lightly back and forth. On any other night, she might have been attracted to him, but she couldn’t forget the pull of the gaze she’d felt earlier on the dock.

  “Who were those other boys you were with today?” she asked, trying not to sound overly interested.

  “The Morrison brothers. They’re water rats, like me.”

  Carolina smiled. “Really?”

  “Yeah. We’re more brothers than friends. Oz says I’m more a Morrison than an Edwards.” He chuckled, and Carolina heard the pride in it. “We all work on Oz’s boats. Did you see the Miss Ann? And the Cap’n and Bobby?” When she nodded, he said smugly, “Those are Morrison boats.”

  “So, are your friends here?”

  “Bobby is.” He craned his neck, searching the room. His face broke into a grin. “That’s
him over there, dancing with your friend.”

  She turned her head, squinting in the colored lights to see a broad-shouldered boy with wavy brown hair dancing with Judith. Bobby wasn’t the brother she was looking for.

  Her gaze swept the room. “What about the other brother?”

  “Bud? He might come later. You never know with him.”

  Bud. She mentally repeated the name, liking it. “He doesn’t like dances?”

  “He likes them fine. But he just broke up with his girlfriend. He might not be in the mood.”

  Carolina cataloged every bit of information she learned about Bud and tucked it away. She knew he was handsome enough to have just about any girl he wanted, but was he the kind of guy who dumped girls on a whim?

  They danced another two dances before Bobby cut in and Lee traded places to dance with Odelle. Bobby was a charmer, with a deep dimpled smile and eyes that sparkled with the devil. The Morrison boys were obviously the big catches in town, and aware of that fact. Carolina caught the slanted glances she was getting from the local girls, and when she stood in line for punch, she heard a girl behind her say in a loud whisper, “What do you expect? The teachers who stay at White Gables only come to town to find husbands.”

  She danced past the time the older couples left for home and a new band stepped up to play rock and roll. The beer was flowing, and Lee seemed glued to her side as the hours passed. She grew weary of his hot fingers around her waist, so when Odelle came up and playfully asked him to dance, Carolina almost pushed Lee toward her. Heading outdoors, she walked around the side of the warehouse to lean against the mighty trunk of an ancient oak. The scent of night jasmine filled the air. Her cheeks were flushed and she lifted her collapsed curls high on her head, relishing the evening breeze on her neck.

  “Hot night.”

  She dropped her hair and spun around. He stood in the shadows a few feet away from her, the tip of his cigarette glowing in the dark.

  “I didn’t see you here.”

  “I came out for a smoke.” He dipped into the pocket of his white button-down shirt and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Stepping forward, he asked, “Want one?”

  She took a cigarette, even though she didn’t smoke.

  He reached into the rear pocket of his jeans and withdrew a pack of matches. The match hissed and sparked; then he stepped closer, cupping it with hands that were tan and crisscrossed with scratches. As she leaned toward the flame, she felt the air grow thick in the few inches that separated them. She looked up and their eyes met. She felt again the attraction, undeniable this time.

  She took a drag on the cigarette. The tobacco tasted hot and foreign in her mouth, and she puffed it out without inhaling.

  He shook the match and flicked it into the air. “I’m Bud.”

  She smiled, liking the smooth cadence of his voice. “I’m Carolina.”

  His eyes kindled, and she knew he’d already learned her name.

  “You’re one of the new teachers,” he said.

  “And you’re one of the Morrison brothers.”

  He half-smiled. “Guilty. I guess you met Bobby?”

  She nodded. “And Lee. It’s a small town. I’ve met most everyone.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “Greenville. South Carolina,” she added.

  “Nice town.”

  “You’ve been there?” she asked, a little surprised.

  He shook his head and chuckled softly. “No.”

  She took another puff of her cigarette and coughed lightly.

  “You don’t smoke much, do you?”

  She shook her head, embarrassed.

  Bud reached out and she handed him her cigarette. She watched him bring it to his mouth. It felt unbearably sensual for his lips to be where hers had been. She inhaled as he did.

  Footsteps sounded behind her, and she heard Lee’s voice call out, “There you are!”

  She groaned inwardly and turned to see Lee walking toward them, two beer bottles dangling from his hands. When he reached her side, he handed her one.

  “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, hoping her tone would discourage him and let Bud know at the same time that there was nothing between her and his friend. “It was hot inside and I came out here to cool down. I’m a big girl. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  Lee slipped his arm around her shoulders. “I see you met Bud.”

  Bud took a step back and put his hands in his back pockets. “We met.”

  “I didn’t think you were going to make it,” Lee said to Bud. “Did you see Nancy? She’s inside looking for you,” he added pointedly.

  “I saw her.”

  A heavy awkwardness gripped them. Bud tossed his cigarette on the gravel and crushed it with his heel. “I’ll be shoving off. Nice meeting you, Carolina.”

  Carolina felt her heart fall from her chest as she watched Bud turn and walk off down Pinckney Street. Lee’s arm slipped down to her waist.

  There were times in her life when Carolina, like most people, could be persuaded to take the polite course and go along, even against her wishes. And there were times when something snapped and she reared up, bucking. This was one of those moments. Carolina knew what she wanted and saw him walking away from her. She slipped out of Lee’s grip.

  “Bud!” she called out.

  He stopped and turned, a questioning look on his face.

  “Wait up!” She began trotting down the road, turning to wave back at Lee. “Thanks for the dance!”

  Lee’s face reddened. “Carolina, wait!”

  But she kept running, cursing her ridiculous platform shoes, till she reached Bud. “You’re going my way,” she said breathlessly. “Do you mind walking me home?”

  Bud’s brows furrowed, and he looked over at Lee still standing under the light by the warehouse, hands on his hips, watching them, and then back at Carolina. “I thought you were with Lee.”

  Carolina shook her head, not breaking eye contact. This was, she knew, a defining moment. “No. I’m with you.”

  He looked at her a moment longer, putting things right in his mind. Then he released a slow smile. “Well, then, I’d be pleased to walk you home.”

  He put out his arm and she slipped hers through it, holding tight, never looking back.

  September 21, 2008

  White Gables

  That night seemed a lifetime ago, Carolina thought as she leaned her elbows against her knees and plucked off her garden gloves. She slapped the gloves against her leg, bits of dirt flung from them. A wry smile curved her lips. It was a lifetime ago. By the end of that year, she and Bud were engaged to be married, and at their wedding the following June, Odelle and Lee had announced their engagement.

  The school bell from down the road began tolling. Eight o’clock already! Carolina thought, jolting upright. The morning was flying by, and here she was, daydreaming. She rose and brushed the soil from her jeans, then went indoors to the phone. She had to call the dentist. She didn’t think she could bear any more pain today.

  5

  September 21, 2008, 10:00 a.m.

  McClellanville

  The breakfast shift was over at T. W. Graham’s Restaurant. An elderly couple made their way out the front door. Toomer pulled off his chef’s hat and went out back for a smoke. Only Mr. Hill remained at his usual table, drinking coffee from a heavy white mug and reading the newspaper. Lizzy was wiping the tables. Behind the counter, Nancy was putting fresh pastries on the glass-covered tiered stand, muttering under her breath. It had been another slow morning.

  T. W. Graham’s was an institution in McClellanville—the real deal. Converted from a grocery store to a restaurant back in the 1950s, it had wood tables painted with a local map, vinyl-covered chairs and booths, and wood shelving filled with old books—all original, lending an old-fashioned air that reproductions could not imitate. The colorful history of the town literally hung from the walls in the form of shrimp
nets, photographs, and paintings by local artists. One had created an enormous wooden mechanical shrimp that hung from the ceiling. Outside on Pinckney Street, a chalkboard advertised daily specials beneath a big arrow pointing inside, emblazoned with the word EAT.

  Unfortunately, these days, few people were following the arrow.

  “Hardly needs nothing,” Nancy said as she stared at the tower of pastries. A cake doughnut was clutched in her metal tongs. Nancy was about the same age as Lizzy’s mother and, like Carolina, lean and fit. Her hair, though white, was cut in a youthful, spiky style.

  “Such a waste…. Want one? You might as well. They’ll go stale.”

  Lizzy shook her head. “No, thanks.” She saw the worry etched on Nancy’s face. “Maybe we’ll get a good lunch crowd.”

  Nancy sighed as she replaced the glass bell over the stand. “I sure hope so.”

  Her sentence was punctuated by the ringing of the small bell over the front door. A man in an olive green uniform entered the restaurant.

  “Here comes the pickle guy,” Nancy said, using her derogatory name for a conservation officer.

  “Shhh,” Lizzy hissed, then looked up with a smile on her face. “Hey, Ben!” she greeted him as he came to the counter. He was about her height but so slender she always felt bigger standing next to him. “What brings you in so early today?”

  Ben Mitchell’s face eased into a grin. “You, pretty lady.”

  Lizzy blushed, aware of how carelessly she’d tied back her hair and how her pale Scottish-English skin could look washed-out with lack of sleep. Her hand darted up to smooth her hair.

  “No, really,” she replied demurely, walking to one of the small tables and setting down a menu.

  Ben slid onto a chair, then brought his hands up to rub his eyes. His heavy-framed glasses bobbed as they bumped against his knuckles. He opened his eyes and smiled, folding his hands on the table. “I was nearby, working on a case.”