As the Tide Comes In

by Cindy Woodsmall

  She sat up slowly. The glowing green of a digital clock aggravated the excruciating pain in her head. She forced herself to push through and read the time: 1:21 p.m.

  Another look around the room. Is this…a hotel?

  With some effort she shoved back the layers of fluffy bedding. The sheets and comforter were heavy, as if weighted. She swung her feet off the side of the bed and stretched them until they touched the scratchy carpet. Pressing a palm against a temple seemed to help. Well, maybe a tiny amount. Her fingers touched…stitches?

  Oh yeah, the roof fell in and she hit her head. No wonder she had a headache.

  Tara stumbled across the floor and into a small adjoining bathroom. She rummaged around the dark room’s countertop until she found her zippered travel bag. Apparently she’d remembered to pack it. After several moments of digging, she found the Vicodin. The doctor had warned her that she might have severe headaches for a while. She unscrewed the cap, swallowed one pill along with as much water as she could force down, staggered back to the bed, and eased down on top of the duvet, closing her eyes.

  She stirred, peering at the clock. Twenty minutes had passed. Thank heavens her headache had subsided enough so she could think a little. Wherever she was, the room was dark and cool, and the white noise of the air conditioner soothed her head.

  She stood and opened the light-blocking curtains, immediately wincing at the blinding sunlight. She closed them again and struggled to place herself in the strange surroundings. This had to be the St. Simons hotel room that Sean helped her book. Where were her brothers now?

  Oh. Of course. They wouldn’t be asleep this time of day.

  A small desk with a charging station was in the corner of the room, and her white iPhone was plugged in. Had she done that, or had someone else? She walked over and picked up the device. Where had all these texts come from?

  She unlocked the phone and started opening them.

  Hadley: Love you, Tara. Haven’t heard from you in a while. Please call me when you get this message.

  Elliott: Can you give us a check-in?

  Lynn: We’re praying for you. Call soon.

  The list of texts continued. Tara touched the stitches again. Why was everyone back home so worried about her? She rubbed her temple. Where could her brothers be? Ice cream on the pier? Or maybe they’d rented bikes?

  She went back into her phone’s texts and scrolled down until she found Darryl’s name. The last text he sent read:

  I’m on the island having fun. Catch me if you can. If you can’t, I’ll come find you soon.

  Well, that didn’t tell her a lot. Her brothers and their pranks! Where on the island? Oh well. She typed back a reply.

  I’ll come meet you. What are you up to?

  The same message immediately bounced back from Darryl. He must have set up an autoreply and didn’t have his phone where he could reach it. After a minute with no additional response, she copied the message and sent a duplicate to Sean. Surely one of them had a phone with them.

  She scrolled back to Hadley’s text, asking for a call. She might as well do that to ease her friends’ minds.

  Hadley answered. “Tara?”

  “Hey, Hads. I got your message. I’m here on St. Simons. I’m okay, other than a wicked headache. But I took some medicine.”

  “I’m so glad to hear from you. Another few hours of no calls or texts, and Elliott or I would be driving your way.”

  “Sorry.” When had she seen Hadley and Elliott last? She had some vague memories of her friends in the hospital with her. Or was that part of a vivid dream, one of many she seemed to be having ever since the storm?

  Hadley cleared her throat. “You know, as it turns out, I could actually get away this week. I think only God could order my life where I can take off spur of the moment. It wouldn’t be any trouble. My girls are at camp all week, and a friend of mine could volunteer at the camp instead of me. I’d stay out of your way, I promise. But I would be nearby just in case.”

  Why were they fussing over her so much? It was a huge imposition for Hadley or Elliott to drive all this way. They needed to stay home and tend to their families. Besides, Sean and Darryl could help her if it came to that. “No, that’s okay. I’m fine, I promise. I was just sleeping in. It’s only my first day. Lots of people get jet lag, no head wound required.”

  “Tara, honey…it’s Thursday. You’ve been gone two days.”

  Thursday? How could it be Thursday? “R-Right.”

  Suddenly the dark of the hotel room closed in on her. She needed to go out and find Sean and Darryl. Then everything would be okay. “Sorry. You know, I’m just dealing with a lot.”

  “Vicodin by itself is enough to completely disorient you, but the doctor was pretty adamant that you need to continue taking it for the next few weeks. He believes the research that indicates the less pain people experience after surgery, the faster they’ll heal.”

  “Okay. Not a problem.” How long would her brain function in a fog like this? It was weird and disorienting. “But I don’t need anyone coming down. I’m okay. I think I’ll go eat something and find some strong coffee.”

  “Food would be a good idea.” Why did Hadley sound so hesitant?

  Tara rubbed her forehead. “Did someone get the roof repairs started? I’ll need a roof on my house soon.”

  Hadley sighed. “It makes me feel a little better to hear you ask about it. Yes, we have the process started, and we’ll figure out the insurance when you return.”

  “Great. I’m going to see if this hotel can extend my stay for at least another week. Might as well, with the roof and all.”

  “If that’s what you need.”

  “It seems like the best possible thing for me now. Besides the immediate need of coffee.”

  “Okay. And, Tara…”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m here for you, however and whatever you need. Elliott is too. We love you. You know that, right?”

  “Sure. Thank you.” Tara opened the curtain and looked out the window. The trees were covered in Spanish moss. Hadley was really over the top about this injury. Had she scared Hadley and Elliott that badly in the hospital?

  They said their goodbyes, and Tara ended the call. A box of granola bars and a liter-size bottle of water sat on her dresser, some of which she must have eaten and drunk the previous day while she rested. She opened a bar and took a few bites while she got the shower going.

  In no time she was dressed in the new white eyelet midi dress that Sean had purchased for her. She slipped her small leather purse across her shoulder. Thank goodness the headache was much better, although not completely gone.

  She stepped out of the room and pulled the door closed to lock and then frowned. Sean’s and Darryl’s suitcases weren’t in the hotel room. At least she hadn’t seen them. Maybe they were tucked in a closet. Or maybe they left them in the car. She’d ask them about it when she found them.

  She walked through the halls, into the hotel lobby, and out the front door into the brilliant sunlight and cringed at the shock of pain it brought. She got a pair of sunglasses out of her purse and chuckled when they fogged up after going from the air-conditioned hotel to the hot, humid air of South Georgia. She pulled out her cell and took a photo of herself with fogged-up sunglasses and then sent it to Hadley and Elliot. They were sure to appreciate it, and maybe it would put them a little more at ease about her being here.

  Tara snapped picture after picture on her phone as she walked down the village street. She loved cute, small towns, and this one was heavy on the charm, which explained why it was also heavy on the crowds.

  After calling her brothers’ cell phones again and getting no answer, she grabbed a burger and fries from the vintage-looking café near the pier. When she finished her food and walked outside to the seaside park, she noticed the lighthouse.

&
nbsp; Something fell into place.

  Sean had talked about climbing the stairs of the lighthouse. Maybe that’s where they were, waiting for her. She could imagine Sean taking lots of photos from the tower, using his nice camera.

  As soon as I find them, everything will make sense.

  8

  Luella checked the time on her watch. Despite it being an antique, it kept the time well…after several repairs. It was almost nine, and her ghost tour would start in just a few minutes.

  She loved the island at night. The strong fish smell of the pier lessened in the evenings, so the air just smelled like the sea. She turned on her battery-powered lantern, and it emitted a soft, golden glow. Later, when the group walked under the live oaks during the tour, it would be eerie and dark. They’d need her lantern to find their footing. Just as important, it added to the ambiance she was going for. She fluffed the big skirt of her maroon Civil War–era replica dress and felt her hair to make sure every strand was pinned up as it should be.

  Thankfully it wasn’t so hot at night as it was during the day with the sun blazing. The nighttime breeze was intense enough to cool the early-summer air almost to light-jacket weather. Rain was in the forecast for later in the evening, but from the radar she had just looked up, the tour should be fine. She’d met a few patrons already and chatted with some of them. There was nothing like sharing the specialness of the island with eager listeners.

  “Hey, Lu, got a minute? I just finished cleaning and straightening the shop.” Julep’s somewhat gravelly voice made Luella look up. Julep had smoked for many years but gave it up cold turkey when her late husband, Mitch, was diagnosed with lung cancer a few weeks before his accident.

  “I have about one literal minute before my tour begins.” Luella grinned at her friend. “Just joking since you’d asked that way. I have around ten. What’s up?”

  Julep let out a sigh. “I feel that it may be time to ask Sue Beth to move her art classes out of the store. I have so much pressure on me now, and every time I see her, it makes my blood boil until I feel like a kettle about to screech.”

  Luella nodded. “The two of you have had a hard go of it recently. What happened now?”

  “Well, I had some really important clients coming to the store. You probably remember the Marshalls, the family who will be renting some of our antique china and many other decorations for a fall wedding at the Historical Society building. Sue Beth was late to her own art class. Again. So all her students were waiting around in the store since she had the key to the loft, where the class would be held.”

  Wasn’t this something that could wait until later? “I don’t really see why—”

  “It was a class where they paint each other in their unmentionables. Can you believe that?”

  “Oh my. So when they were in the store, they were…” Surely adult women wouldn’t allow themselves to be in such a state in public.

  “Well, they were all wearing housecoats. But trust me, anyone walking in felt uncomfortable. Despite the robes being terry cloth, I think it was apparent they didn’t have clothes, for day or night, under those housecoats. Why would anyone think it’s okay to be in an upscale furniture store with only a housecoat over their underwear?”

  Luella nodded. She didn’t want to be in the middle of this disagreement. She needed to stay neutral. “But if I’m remembering right, Sue Beth holds those classes with only women, all of them close to our age, and the classes focus on body positivity and appreciating the forms that the Lord created. She calls what they paint ‘tasteful bikinis.’ ”

  “She gets to act so foolish when I’m the one who has to maintain the store and keep our customers and reputation.” Julep’s voice was a growl.

  “But getting that corner store unit would fix the issue of Sue Beth’s classes, right? The loft would have its own separate entrance and the students—and Sue Beth—wouldn’t have to come into the shop every day.”

  “Yeah, but she would still be right there. Right above me.”

  Luella opened and then closed her mouth. Sometimes Julep just needed to vent before getting back to herself. Although it’d been eighteen months since Mitch died, her friend was still deeply grieving his passing. Sue Beth was the easiest target for Julep’s frustrations, usually because Sue Beth didn’t think through how her actions would affect others. But…

  “Julep, what’s really going on between you and Sue Beth? Things have been weird for a while. It feels like there’s something I don’t know.”

  Julep glanced around at the gathering tour crowd and leaned in closer. “There is something, and I’m tired of keeping quiet about it. We had a get-together the day Mitch was diagnosed. Do you remember that?”

  Luella nodded, her heart beating faster. “The gathering was already planned, and you guys didn’t cancel it.”

  “That’s right. I was in a panic, and Gavin was helping me research and verify what the doctor had said. Sue Beth and Mitch were talking outside. I walked out and saw the two of them. She was hugging him in a way that you don’t hug your best friend’s spouse.”

  Luella blinked. Was Julep implying…“You think she was throwing herself at Mitch?”

  “No.” Julep made a disgusted face. “Not that. But she was stealing the moment I should have had with him. It’s what she does. Steals moments that don’t belong to her.”

  Sue Beth was known for being a flirt, although Luella wasn’t at all sure Sue Beth realized how her behavior came across. Still, whenever the Glynn Girls ran into people from Sue Beth’s middle and high school days, they told stories of her being popular and flirting with all the boys. But her personality aside, when a couple had a ticking clock, it was a betrayal for a friend to steal time from them.

  A crowd of people had started to gather around Luella and her lantern. It wasn’t the time to speak about anything sensitive with her walking-tour group waiting. She leaned close to Julep. “Let’s talk about this over a cup of coffee tomorrow morning. Now come take a walk with us. I know you’ve heard the stories before, but maybe walking will help clear your head.”

  Julep nodded, looking a bit relieved to do something more than stew in her frustration and hurt.

  Luella released her hand. “Good.” She turned to raise her lantern. “Gather ’round, everyone.” She projected her voice to get the attention of the whole group. A quick count told her there were twenty people. She studied each face for a second, deciding who she’d ask questions of on the tour. She smiled at them. “Are you ready to meet the ghosts of St. Simons Island?”

  She hit all her favorite points and stories. They walked below the Lighthouse Inn and down a dirt road. It was hard keeping her mind off the revelation Julep had shared, but she tried to focus on the tour. Every few minutes Luella stopped the group and told them a story about the island’s history and inhabitants. But her favorite stories she saved for the end.

  Luella held up the lantern and gestured for her tour group to stop. She had stories to share before they got to the lighthouse. Each path and every step they took on this island was steeped in history, sometimes beautiful and sometimes ugly.

  The group gathered around her, and she studied their faces. “How many of you have heard of St. Simons’s most famous ghost, Mary de Wanda?”

  Two people in the group raised their hands, and there was a new face in the group. It wasn’t unusual for people to start tagging along during her tour, and she really didn’t mind, as it helped spread word of mouth. The addition was a man of medium build, about her age or maybe a little younger, with gray-blond hair cut very close to his scalp. He was dressed nicely, which was a little unusual for someone walking around the island. He had his arms crossed as he was listening, frowning.

  Interesting.

  Luella focused again on the story she was going to tell. She held up her lantern and looked out over the beach, which was now at low tide. The
clouds had parted enough that moonlight shined a wavy path on the water. It was a prime night for people to make good use of their imaginations. She turned back toward the group. “This is one of my favorite stories and one that involves some of my own ancestors, the Demere family. It’s really quite romantic but also sad.

  “In 1824 Mary was a teenage ward of the Raymond Demere. You’ve probably noticed Demere Road, which is named after the family. They were wealthy planters, and young Mary acted as their house servant. But she was very beautiful, and Raymond’s teenage son fell in love with her. They met in secret to plan their marriage. One morning the son told his father that he planned to wed Mary. Not wanting his son to bind himself to a girl of lower social caliber, the father got into a heated argument with the son, which ended with the son rowing a boat away from the river landing, heading to the mainland for a few days to cool down.

  “Unfortunately, bad weather started rolling in. The wind began blowing, causing the waves to get higher and higher. Turns out, a hurricane was headed to St. Simons. Full-blown hurricanes are pretty rare for our area. Mary could hardly contain herself, and she searched and searched for the young man all day through the storm, holding her lantern in the blinding wind and rain.”

  Luella held up her battery-powered lantern for effect. “When the hurricane finally subsided, she saw it: the young man’s capsized boat. In her unbearable grief Mary flung herself into the rolling waves. Her love for that young man was so intense she was willing to join him in his early watery grave.”

  The group was silent. Luella let her words hang in the air before continuing.

  “Since that day lots of people on the island have claimed to see Mary, with her flowing long hair and white dress, holding her lantern high. She gets her name from the Geechee people who live on St. Simons and the surrounding Golden Isles. They call her Mary de Wanda. She wanders endlessly, looking for her lost love. We even have written accounts of air traffic controllers seeing her walking on the tarmac. And many respectable people, both residents and visitors, have seen her. I’ve heard tales of people seeing a woman in white walking on this very beach, but by the time the viewer reaches the bottom of the stairs to the sand, she’s gone.”