Lily of the Springs

by Carole Bellacera

  The radio began to play Chubby Checker’s “The Twist” for probably the hundredth time since I’d parked myself on my beach towel, and I put down my book and sang along, resisting the urge to stand up and do the new dance that American Bandstand had made famous. That would be cute, wouldn’t it? I’d be a spectacle for everybody on the crowded beach. Oh, wouldn’t Jake just die if I did? But he was back at the cottage, probably either taking a nap or drinking a beer in the little yard that faced the beach.

  Wonder what Chad is doing right now?

  On the late afternoon we’d arrived, I’d looked intently at each golf course as we drove down Rt. 17 on the way to our rental cottage, wondering which one Chad owned. Of course, Jake didn’t play golf, so I’d never know…never have a reason to stop by one and ask if they knew Chad.

  The Chubby Checker song ended, and Dante & the Evergreens’ “Alley-Oop” began to play. I glanced over at Kathy Kay, my brow furrowing. What on earth was so fascinating about the sand she was sifting through? It looked like she was searching for something.

  Poor little thing. She’d cried her eyes out on the day we’d left home for vacation because she hadn’t wanted to leave her best friend, Paul John, Jinx’s youngest boy. It was funny, the way those two had bonded from the time they were babies. Kathy Kay was only six months older, and since they were able to sit up and take notice of each other, they’d been like two peas in a pod. I marveled at how adorable they were together, both of them looking like little cherubs with their blond curls and guileless blue eyes.

  But I hadn’t been prepared for Kathy Kay’s sobs as we’d driven away that morning. If they were so inseparable now, what would it be like in ten years when the two of them would be hovering on the threshold of adolescence? Trouble, I suspected, with all those teenage hormones raging. It didn’t bear thinking about.

  I got to my feet, brushed the sand off the seat of my black strapless swimsuit and ambled toward the shore. As I approached Debby Ann, she looked up and grinned, revealing a gap where her right eye-tooth used to be. Her new permanent tooth was just visible. She looked adorable.

  “Like my sandcastle, Mommy?”

  “It’s beautiful, honey.” I placed a hand on top of her sun-warmed head. At seven years old, Debby had lost all her baby fat, and was pretty much all gangly arms and legs with a pixie face and big brown eyes. Her blond hair had darkened to a rich, golden-brown, and in the summer, was streaked with blond from the sun—just like Jake’s.

  I stroked her tanned shoulder. “You need to put some more Coppertone on, girl. Go on, now. It’s in my bag on the blanket. I’ll get your back in a minute, okay?”

  Debby Ann’s bottom lip poofed out. “But Mommy! I need to get a suntan!”

  “But you don’t need to get burned. Now do what I say!”

  With an exaggerated roll of the eyes, Debby got to her feet and plodded toward the beach blanket, kicking sand and muttering about how nobody—meaning Mommy--would let her get a decent tan.

  Cantankerous little squirt, I thought. It could be raining cats and dogs with thunder crashing and lightning flashing and the girl would look you in the eye and insist that the sun was shining. That was Debby Ann.

  I walked on toward Kathy Kay, the complete opposite of her older sister. There wasn’t a child on the face of the earth with a sweeter disposition than this one. And I swear, with her big blue eyes and blonde curls, she was the spitting image of my long dead little brother, Charles Alton. I sat down on the wet sand next to her, bracing as a wave washed around us. “Hey, Sweetie. What ya doing?”

  She looked up and smiled, her golden ringlets gleaming in the sun. “Lookin’ for a starfish.”

  “But honey, you’ve been sitting in that same spot all morning. Don’t you want to come help Debby Ann build a sandcastle?”

  Kathy shook her head emphatically. “No, Mommy. I told you…I got to find a starfish.”

  I ran a hand down the silk of her damp hair. “Sweetie, I don’t think starfish wash up on the beach. You probably have to go out into the deep water and dive down to find one.”

  Kathy glanced out at the waves, the expectant look on her face unchanged. “They do too wash up on the beach, Mommy,” she said. “Remember the story book you read us? The Bobbsey Twins? They found a starfish on the beach. So…I’m going to wait right here until the sea brings me a starfish. And when I find one, I’m going to give it to Paul John.”

  I sighed. “Well, honey, that’s very sweet of you, but you can’t wait here forever. We have to go in pretty soon, get washed up and changed. Maybe Daddy will take us out to supper tonight. You want to go to that restaurant with the doors that look like you’re walking into a big old shark’s mouth?”

  Kathy Kay shook her head solemnly. “No, I don’t want to go into a shark’s mouth.” She turned and fixed serious blue eyes on me. “And I can’t leave until I find my starfish. I promised Paul John I’d bring him one!”

  I thought for a moment. Kathy Kay had never thrown a fit in her life, but there was always a first time for everything.

  “You know, honey, the ocean tides work on a schedule. There’s low tide and high tide, and they both happen a few times a day. This here, I reckon, is high tide. And I’m pretty sure it’s low tide that you can find the treasures from the sea…things like sand dollars and big seashells…and starfishes.” I hoped to God I had it right, and it wasn’t the other way around. Not that it really mattered. Kathy Kay could look her little heart out and never find a starfish. “I think maybe if we come down here at low tide, you’ll have a better chance of finding one.”

  “When will that be?”

  “Well, I’m not exactly sure, but maybe later tonight. After we get back from supper.”

  Kathy Kay nodded as if that made perfect sense. She got to her feet and brushed the sand from her cute little polka-dotted bottom. “Okay, Mommy. Let’s come down here at low tide.” Her hand curled around mine.

  Debby Ann had just settled back into the pool of water in front of her sandcastle when we approached. “I don’t need no more suntan lotion on my back,” she said defiantly, removing her sand pail from a cone of wet sand to form a new wing to her castle.

  “Just as well,” I said, mentally preparing myself for World War III. “Because it’s time to go in.”

  Debby Ann’s brows lowered like the onset of a particularly violent thunderstorm. “But Mommmmmmeeeee!”

  “Don’t start, Debby Ann,” I warned.

  “Come on, Debby Ann.” Kathy Kay calmly gazed down at her big sister, for all the world like she was the big sister, not Debby. “Mommy says we can go to that big shark’s mouth for supper.”

  Debby Ann stared at Kathy, her mouth open in what I figured had been—or was going to be--a protest. It clamped shut as her gaze darted to her me. “Really, Mommy? We’re going to the big shark for supper?”

  I grinned. “I’m sure you can talk your daddy into it. But it has to come from you two, not me.”

  “Okay!” She began to gather up her sand toys, and Kathy Kay bent down to help.

  The girls raced in front of me toward our rental cottage. By the time I reached the door, my arms full with the beach bag, wet towels and blanket, they were already inside, begging their father to take them to the restaurant with the big shark’s mouth.

  “We’ll see,” he said, looking up at me as I came through the door. “Ya’all go wash up now. I’ve got to talk to your mommy.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked as the girls ran off to the bathroom, Debby Ann shouting that she had first dibs on the shower.

  “I just got off the telephone with Jinx,” he said, his expression unreadable.

  “Nothing’s wrong with Debby Ann Kitty, I hope.”

  Jinx had offered to come over to the house to feed the cat and clean out the litter box while we were gone. Even though Debby Ann Kitty was an outside cat, I’d thought it best to keep her in the house while we were gone for the week. She might not like it, but at least she’d be saf
e.

  “No, it’s not the cat,” Jake said. “It’s Paul John. He’s in the hospital.”

  I drew in a sharp breath. “Oh, no! What happened?”

  Jake shook his head. “They don’t know what’s wrong with him. He’s running a high fever, and they’re doing all kinds of tests.”

  “Oh, poor Jinx. She must be beside herself.” I placed the beach bag on the floor and stepped back outside to drape the wet beach towels on the squat stone barrier separating our cottage from the one next door.

  Paul John had been born just six months after Kathy Kay, the last legacy of poor old Lonnie. It was just Jinx and her “men” now—the twins, David Lee and Douglas Dean, and little Paul John. Since Lonnie died, they were pretty much all Jinx lived for. And now, to have her youngest in the hospital, not knowing what was wrong with him, must be worrying her to death.

  I went back into the cottage. “Well, I sure hope it’s not serious. Poor Jinx! It’s always something, isn’t it? I think we should be careful about what we say to Kathy Kay about Paul John. You know how she is. She’ll worry herself sick about that boy.” When Jake didn’t say anything, I went on, “So…what do you think about the girls’ idea? Going to that Calabash seafood place?”

  “I reckon we could do that.” He stood at the picture window, staring out at the ocean.

  “Great!” I smiled, relieved at how easy that had been. “I’ll go make sure the girls are getting ready. You’ve already showered, I see. It’ll only take me a few minutes. I’ll just leave my hair wet, and pull it up in a pony-tail. Hey, should I wear the new pink-flowered sundress I bought in that beach shop the other day?”

  “Yeah, why not? But wait a minute, Lil.”

  Already half-way down the hallway, I hesitated. “Yeah, what?”

  He turned away from the window. “I think we should head back tomorrow.”

  “What?” As his meaning hit me, my heart dropped. I returned to the living room. “But Jake, we’ve got two more days here.”

  “Jinx needs us, Lily Rae,” he said quietly. “She’s worried sick about Paul John, and she’s got them twins to deal with. She told me she’s paying a babysitter fifty cents an hour to watch them so she can go to the hospital. And you know she can’t afford that. I think the decent thing to do would be to go home and help her out.”

  My mouth dropped open, and I spoke without thinking, “Well, can’t she just take the twins to her mother’s in Russell Springs? For the life of me, I don’t understand why she doesn’t just move on back there, anyway!”

  He frowned. “Now, you know damn well why she doesn’t. She’s got that job in the front office at the iron factory, and she needs it. Lonnie’s pension doesn’t pay for jack-shit, and you know it.”

  “Well, I know for a fact that the sewing factory in Russell Springs is hiring because Norry has been working there for the summer. So, it seems to me it would make sense for Jinx to move where she has family, and that way, she doesn’t always have to depend on us, and maybe then we could have a decent week’s vacation to ourselves.” Even as I spoke, I knew how mean and selfish it sounded. But I just couldn’t help it.

  Jake’s face had turned to stone. “Well, I reckon it’s too much to ask for you to stop thinking about yourself for a minute, and instead, concentrate on that poor sick baby in the hospital. But hell! It’s not one of yours, is it? You know what? Forget it.” He turned back to the window. “We’ll stay here until Saturday just as we planned. Have ourselves a fun old time here in Myrtle Beach, and just let Jinx fend for herself. And maybe we’ll get lucky, and Paul John won’t up and die while we’re gone.”

  I knew he was manipulating me, but even as I realized it, my cheeks burned with shame. I thought of that poor little boy in a strange hospital bed, burning up with fever. It reminded me of Charles Alton, and the anguished look on Mother’s face that sweltering May night as she rocked his lifeless body in her arms.

  I stood there a moment, staring at Jake’s broad shoulders covered in blue cotton. He’d joined the factory boxing team last winter, and his body showed the effects of daily work-outs in the company gym. But his body wasn’t the only thing about him that had changed in the past few years. A dramatic change had come over him after Lonnie Foley’s death. He’d cut down on the drinking, limiting himself to a beer or two on the weekends. He’d become a decent husband and father. He’d learned to think about others and what they needed, rather than his own needs. In short, my husband had finally grown up.

  This vacation, for example. He’d saved for two years for it, faithfully putting money aside so we could really treat ourselves. And he’d actually been having a good time, playing in the ocean with the kids. Taking them to the miniature golf course nearby in the evenings. Paying attention to me, too. We’d made love almost every night here, and he’d been unbelievably sweet and romantic.

  And now, here I was, acting like a spoiled brat because we had to end our vacation a couple of days early.

  I approached him quietly and slipped my arms around his waist, resting my head on his back. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “You’re right, Jake. We’ll go home tomorrow.”

  ***

  As Jake checked the oil, I put the last bag into the car and went back into the cottage to tell the girls to go to the bathroom so we could get on the road. It was then that I realized Kathy Kay wasn’t in the cottage.

  I stood in front of Debby Ann, my heart pounding. “Where’s your sister?”

  Debby Ann shrugged and didn’t answer. She was still sulking because we were leaving early, having parked herself on the couch while me and Jake packed up, and there she still sat with her arms folded, an expression on her face like a mule eating briars.

  I lost my temper. “Damn it, Debby Ann, you’d better wipe that frown off your face before I do it for you! Answer me! Do you know where your sister went?”

  “Down to the beach,” Debby snarled, eyes shooting daggers. “What do you care? You hate us anyway!”

  I ran out the door. “Kathy Kay!”

  Oh, Lord! What if she went into the water and a big wave washed her out to sea? That child wasn’t afraid of anything. Why, it was even possible she’d wandered toward the highway. Oh, God!

  On the edge of panic, I stumbled past the swaying sea grass on the dunes, my gaze sweeping the crowded beach for a tow-headed little girl. Oh, God, oh, God, oh God…

  And then I heard it.

  “Mommy, Mommy!”

  I turned to my left. And there she was, Kathy Kay, running toward me, as fast as she possibly could in the sand, blond curls streaming behind her like a mermaid in a fairy-tale. Her little face was as bright as the orb of sun beaming down out of a crystal blue sky.

  “Look, Mommy! I found it!” she shouted gleefully. “I found my starfish!”

  I ran to her, fell to the sand and pulled her into my arms. Thankfully, I buried my face in her silky, sunshine-scented hair. “Oh, honey, you scared me to death. Don’t you ever do that to me again!” I pulled away to look into her eyes. “You hear me? You don’t run off like that again.”

  “I’m sorry, Mommy.” She looked contrite, yet, still excited. “But I couldn’t leave ‘til I found my starfish for Paul John. And look! Here it is!”

  She held out a small hand and uncurled her fingers.

  It was tiny, not more than an inch wide—but Kathy Kay had found her starfish.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  August 1962

  “Katydid, would you look at who’s getting out of that fancy Cadillac? If that’s not Jewell May Foley, I’ll eat my hat.” I stared at a gangly plain-faced woman in an expensive-looking tailored suit.

  Katydid pulled into a parking space at the Holiday Inn in Somerset. She turned off the ignition and tossed me an amused grin. “Eat your Jackie pillbox? I think not! And yes, that is Jewell. She’s a high-end lawyer in Louisville, I hear. Still single and proud of it, I bet.”

  “Well, that doesn’t surprise me at all—not the high-end lawyer part—t
he fact that she’s still single.” I adjusted the rearview mirror so I could re-apply my lipstick. “Didn’t the boys call her Mud Fence back in high school?”

  “Yeah.” Katydid reached for her pocketbook on the seat between us. “And it looks like she’s still crying all the way to the bank. You ready?”

  I smoothed a hand over my new hair-cut. It had cost me $20 to get it cut in a bob like Jackie Kennedy’s—and Jake would just die if he ever found out I’d skimmed off the grocery money to pay for it. But it wasn’t every day a girl went to her 10-year high school reunion, and I wanted to knock Chad’s socks off when he saw me. If he was even here.

  “Do I look okay?” I asked Katydid, adjusting the bow on my sage-green hip-banded dress.

  “Honey, you look like you just stepped out of Vogue.” Katydid opened the car door. “Come on. Let’s go in.”

  My heart raced with anticipation as we walked across the parking lot toward the hotel lobby. The flared hem of my dress swirled playfully just at my knees, and despite the heat of the afternoon, I was glad I’d worn pantyhose. Not only did they make my legs look nicely tanned and trim, I could walk in my black leather stilettos without looking like I was in agony—which I was, but not as bad as I’d be if I were in them bare-footed.

  Jake had refused to come with me to the reunion. Not that I’d been surprised about that. And to tell the truth, I was glad he hadn’t. How else would I get a chance to get a few minutes alone with Chad?

  If he was here.

  “I just can’t believe Jinx isn’t going to be here,” I said as we stepped into the lobby, then immediately wanted to bite my tongue. I’d seen the tightening of Katydid’s mouth at the mention of Jinx.

  My two friends had had some kind of falling-out this summer, but neither one would talk to me about it. I’d tried my best to get them to work it out, whatever the problem was, but neither one would budge. So, I tried to just leave it alone, hoping that sooner or later, they’d patch up their quarrel. Meanwhile, I sure hated being caught in the middle of them. And having to be careful about bringing up one of their names in front of the other.