“This many people can’t have come to hear me.” Tara pulled her phone out and texted someone. A moment later her phone pinged. “Pastor Mike said he hadn’t expected this kind of turnout either.” Tara opened and closed the snap on her leather binder. “What was I thinking? Oh, he said they have a parking space reserved for us with orange cones. My guess is it’ll be in that area.” She pointed. “Near where his office is.”
“Okay.” Luella slowed, looking for a set of cones.
Tara fiddled with her phone. Was she texting someone else? A moment later she put it to her ear.
“Hey, Tara.” It was Gavin’s voice. “What’s up?”
There was no such thing as a private phone call in a shared vehicle. The person on the other phone was easily heard. Luella broke into a big smile. Was their friendship deepening? Luella had spent enough time with Tara to believe with her whole heart that Gavin and Tara could have a great and lasting friendship, one that met emotional needs for each of them. If Julep had a clue these two were texting and talking the way they were, she’d be beside herself with hopes and dreams for Gavin, Tara, and future grandchildren. But Luella knew most guy-girl relationships weren’t destined to end in marriage.
She spotted the orange cones and Pastor Mike and his wife on the sidewalk waving at her. He removed the cones and gestured for her to pull in.
“I’m a basket case.” Tara’s voice trembled. “The parking lot is full twenty minutes before start time, and…” She trailed off.
Luella pulled in and then reached over and squeezed Tara’s hand. As Luella got out, she smiled at them. “Hey, good to see you again.”
“How goes the research?” He glanced through the windshield at Tara. “Everything okay?”
“Some jitters, but she’ll be fine.” Luella hoped that was true. Tara got out, a huge grin on her face. She spoke to Mike and Patti, and soon Luella and Tara were walking behind them down the sidewalk.
“You look better,” Luella whispered.
“Gavin said I should run like the wind and never look back.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s a mess. He offered to head my way and find me and said we’d putter off into the sunset, never to be heard from again.” Tara chuckled.
“There’s a reason he has four mamas.”
“Yeah?” They went inside and down a long hallway.
“I didn’t pseudoadopt any of Dell’s or Sue Beth’s children. And they didn’t adopt each other’s either, but at one time or another when Gavin was young, we each adopted him. He’s different—vulnerable, tender, tough as nails.”
“Is this a sales pitch?”
“No, honey. Not from me. I believe in staying single if that’s what you want. I’m simply saying I’m proud of him and telling you why he has four mamas.”
“I need to get the microphone headsets.” Pastor Mike and his wife went into his office.
Luella stopped and turned Tara by the shoulders to look her in the eyes. “When you’re behind the pulpit, remember that these people love you. Many are weary of the battle. Others are scared of what life could bring their way. But you’ve survived their worst nightmares, and they’re hoping you tell them they can too. That’s all. It doesn’t have to be perfect, only real and honest.”
“You’re pretty good at this Mom stuff.” Tara smiled. “Thanks.”
There was shuffling in the hallway ahead of them, and soon Hadley and Elliott were engulfing Tara.
“I think all twenty of your mountain-hiking and rock-climbing crew are here.” Hadley removed a hair from Tara’s dress.
“James too?”
“The leader of the pack,” Elliott said.
“Good. I need to talk to him.” Tara turned to Luella. “I don’t see him a lot, but he gives good dad-type advice, and I need a bit of that. I’ll invite him, his wife, and the rock-climbing gang to the cabin, and we’ll get the fire pit roaring and make an afternoon of it. You mind?”
“Sounds perfect, but we’re not prepared to feed a crowd.”
“It’ll be easy. I’ve pulled these things off last minute a dozen times over the years.”
Tara focused on her friends and opened her hand. The small rock she kept with her rested in her palm. “Was this in my hand when I woke in the hospital?”
Hadley and Elliott glanced at each other. Hadley nodded. “Yeah.”
“It was missing before the house was hit with the storm. Who found it and brought it to me?”
Hadley put one hand under Tara’s and one over the rock. “We don’t know how it got in your hand, Tara. One of us was with you around the clock. It makes no sense that you had it in your hand.”
Tara stumbled backward until she was against the wall. A broad, beautiful smile spread across her face. She clutched the rock tight, her eyes closed as if she was praying. She hugged her friends, but no one said another word about the incident, as if it was too precious to question or analyze or gab about.
Pastor Mike and Patti came out of the office.
“Let me help you get this on and show you how it works.” Patti held up a headset and body pack.
Pastor Mike put his set on. “Tara, you sit on a pew in the front, and I’ll invite you up when it’s time.”
“Sure.”
“We have a seat for you.” Hadley motioned to Luella, and she followed them. Luella had been to this church a few times since leaving St. Simons, but it’d never been this full.
When Tara stepped onto the platform, she looked calm and comfortable. She told several funny stories about Sean, Darryl, and her. People laughed, some while wiping tears. She was hitting hearts, and Luella knew most of the people here would never be the same, not because Tara’s words were more profound than anything they’d heard before, but because most knew her or knew of her. She was a part of them, and she was sharing from a vulnerable place, not quite three months after her brothers died.
She quickly recapped going to St. Simons Island, falling asleep on the plane, and dreaming and believing that Sean and Darryl were still alive. She shared about the text messages from Darryl, the day her time at the hotel was up, and her losing her phone, credit cards, and cash in the rising tide. The crowd was clearly mesmerized.
Walking to the other side of the platform, she began again. “You all look horrified, but you shouldn’t, because while I was in the state of Georgia, I found my cabin. You know the one that sits not too far from here in the mountains of North Carolina. Yeah, I found it there, so in my thinking I had only two problems at that time. I couldn’t manage to connect with Sean and Darryl, and there was this roofer guy who kept coming inside my house and taking it apart.”
Her delivery of the sentences and her vivacious animations were perfect. People laughed despite the subject matter. She didn’t mention Gavin’s name, but she described him as a really bad guy, a force of evil, and she continued to add humor and make faces as she told of their various encounters. The crowd could see the scenario from Gavin’s point of view, and they laughed at her insistence of what a horrible person he was.
She paused and took a drink from a water bottle sitting on the podium. “So let’s circle back and talk about God. Sometimes our view of life and God are similar to the view I had of my St. Simons house and roofer guy—distorted and incomplete. I kept trying to squeeze what I needed to be true into my reality. It didn’t fit. I told roofer guy he was the worst repairman ever. He didn’t tell me the truth—that I was mentally incapable of grasping his level of understanding.
“When I think of how he handled that situation, I’m reminded of God—silent when we say ridiculous things that He knows aren’t true. Patient. Kind. And protective.
“A friend helped me see that we are all vessels. We will carry something to everyone we come in contact with. Let’s choose to be vessels of love, patience, hope, and faith. When it’s all said and done, whether you’re the one
in the ground or a loved one is, the times you won’t regret are the times you loved deeply with patience and kindness and sacrifice.”
She paused, scanning the listeners. “And love never dies…”
Luella couldn’t stop thinking about Tara back when she was called Siobhan. What a journey she’d been on.
How could she embrace what Tara was saying and be a vessel of love in her own life? Her heart turned a little flip, and butterflies settled in her stomach. It was time to go home. And time to stop running from her feelings for Chuck.
37
Tara drove up the long gravel driveway toward home. Loneliness clung tight, making her chest ache. Luella had gone home three days ago. Tara stopped in front of the cabin, turned off the car, and got out. She wriggled Darryl’s rock out of her jeans pocket and eased into the rocking chair on the porch. The now familiar sentiments of grief and gratefulness wrapped around her anew. “Ah…home.”
The quietness settled over her. Green leaves swayed, ducks on the pond quacked, and she longed to go back to the time when Sean and Darryl would be home soon, hungry and with smelly gym clothes and a need to talk and laugh and watch a show together.
Coming home was a mixed bag. “I miss you.”
Nothing.
The breeze didn’t pick up. The ducks didn’t flap about.
Nothing.
They had a life, and so did she, and the two wouldn’t meet again until she died. But she’d been given a sign to last her a lifetime. She clutched the rock tightly. God loved her. The air around her teemed with the feeling of their presence, but maybe that was because they were in her mind and heart. She cried a lot at night, but morning never failed to come, and she showered, dressed, and focused on making Sean’s and Darryl’s lives matter now and hopefully a hundred years from now.
She’d applied for nonprofit status, but until it came through, probably in the next three to six months, all her time was spent on preliminary work—getting the plan out there for store owners and managers of outfitter stores, making contact with potential contributors, setting up protocols for how families could get training and equipment for outings, and starting all sorts of social media landing pages.
She was also writing a nonfiction book. Luella suggested she write the first five chapters and a cover letter and pitch it to a few agents. Maybe she’d get a contract. Maybe not. But she needed to write. In many ways writing from her life experiences felt like talking directly to Sean and Darryl.
Her phone beeped with Julep’s tune. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and glanced at the list of texts from each Glynn Girl, asking if she’d eaten, slept, was home yet, had plans for the evening, remembered to put gas in her car.
Good grief, I’ve inherited four mamas.
She sent quick answers and went into the cabin. When she turned on the lights, a light bulb flickered, and she looked up, once again noticing the new paneled ceiling. She took a picture of it and sent it to Gavin.
A few seconds later she received a response.
Hey, T. What am I looking at?
This was their first text for the day, but they texted and talked a few times each week.
You’re looking at the ceiling in the cabin, the end results when a man knows how to repair a roof.
Ha! I have no apologies to give. You got in front of your church and said…
She chuckled. He’d texted those same lines earlier in the week, never saying anything after the word said. Did he mean that she’d told everyone he was a horrible roofer so he had nothing left to apologize for or that she’d said his responses reminded her of God—patient, kind, and protective?
The social media guy at the church had uploaded her talk, and apparently Gavin had watched it—he and about two thousand other people, which seemed a lot to her since she’d spoken less than two weeks ago.
She’d shared a lot that Sunday morning, maybe too much. On the other hand, being vulnerable, encouraging, and honest had freed and strengthened her in ways she’d never imagined.
Ready to hear Gavin’s voice, she navigated to Favorites and touched his name.
“Hey.” He sounded out of breath. “I had something I needed to tell you, but, first, how was your last meeting?”
What were they doing? Even if there was a spark between them, and she was beginning to think there was, it was too soon. Years too soon. She was an emotional wreck, and he wasn’t a first-aid kit. That wouldn’t be good or healthy for either of them.
“Good.” She went to the car to get her suitcase. “Another store is on board.”
“You must be an incredible salesperson.”
“The people I’ve met are the incredible ones, so very ready to give a hand to help children and families bond and have fun. I never imagined strangers having hearts this big.”
“You have to be wiped out. How much sleep have you had since Elliott had the baby Monday?”
“After being there for the birth, I ran most of the week on sheer adrenaline. But I’ve not had a lot of sleep, and I’m starting to feel it.” She’d been in the room when Aiden was born, and she’d never experienced anything like it. She’d had appointments Tuesday through today, and then she kept Aiden half the night, giving the new parents a bit of sleep, although Elliott got up twice to nurse him. “Elliott and Trent are so in love they literally glow.”
“Since no one is sleeping at night anyway”—he groaned and huffed—“it’s bound to make for two good night-lights.”
She used to like the idea of marriage and babies. She’d hoped that one day she’d fall in love and the rest would follow, but now the whole concept made her feel overwhelmed and nauseated. “What are you doing?”
“Ah, just another project around the house.”
“I should let you go.”
“No.” He sounded forceful. “Uh, I mean, please don’t.”
Maybe he felt sorry for her, or maybe he liked the friendship as much as she did. How could she know?
“Okay.”
Once in a while the desire crept into her heart to go to St. Simons Island and spend time with Gavin. How would she and Gavin know if there could be more between them if they didn’t date? But that sounded like a really bad idea. If she and Gavin dated and it didn’t work out, everything would be awkward between her and the Glynn Girls—and they were like family now, especially Luella.
“Oh, Tara…” Gavin sang her name. “Did you get caught up reading an email?”
“Sorry. The thing I got caught up in was my own thoughts.” She couldn’t tell him what was on her mind, so she searched for something they could talk about. “I heard on the news today there’s a chance that a Category Five hurricane in the Caribbean could turn east. Any chance it’ll affect St. Simons?”
“It’s too soon to tell. We’ll probably know in a few days, maybe a week, but if it comes this way, we’ll get as prepared for it as possible.”
Her heart clenched. “That doesn’t sound promising or safe.” The line was quiet for a bit. “Gavin?”
“I’m a rescue worker, T.” He paused. “We’ll make sure our family and friends pack up and go two or three hours inland days before it hits. But a lot of people will refuse to go until the last minute, and public safety workers will continue helping people evacuate until we’re made to pull out. Even then we won’t go far. When the worst is over, we’ll begin search and rescue.”
She couldn’t really imagine what all he did to help people year in and year out. Her heart warmed at the thought.
“Tara, you got quiet again.”
“Your job suits you, Gavin.”
“I agree. Does it bother you—my job?”
“It’s disconcerting. How could it not be? But it seems as if we’re on this planet to help those in our path the best way we know how. It’s what we do. What I hope we always do.”
He released a dee
p breath. “I like that answer, a lot.”
“You sound relieved.” Had she missed something?
“Yeah, well, sometimes people can’t handle an aspect of a friend’s life, and they pull away.”
“Makes sense.”
Regardless of her stray thoughts about being attracted to Gavin—and apparently he had them for her too—she would take Pastor Mike’s advice and not do anything but heal for a full year: no dating, no selling the cabin, no making expensive purchases, no skydiving, no swimming with sharks, or anything similar.
If Gavin wasn’t seeing anyone else in a year or so, and if she still had an ounce or two of romantic notions about him after traveling the US and getting the nonprofit set up, then she’d consider returning to St. Simons. What if her interest in Gavin was connected to her grief and maybe her gratefulness to him for helping her when she was so broken? Maybe she should stop texting and calling so often and let him return to his normal life.
“You rethinking your answer, Tara?”
“Huh?” She gathered her thoughts. “No, not that. Other things.”
“About?”
“Uh, well.” Should she tell him? She told him everything else. “Us.”
“Oh.” He coughed as if he’d been drinking something and choked. “Is there something you want to cover about us?”
“No…yes…maybe.”
He chuckled. “Well now that we’ve cleared that up, what else can I help you with?”
She smiled, and it felt odd to smile when one’s chest throbbed with grief. “I think that’s everything.”
“Tara?” Gavin cleared his throat. “Don’t overthink us, okay? There is no need to ‘get in’ or ‘get out.’ You save all that superpower thinking for the nonprofit and the book.”
She’d been given an out for this conversation, and since she didn’t know what to say to him, she’d take it. “Yeah, you’re right.”
It seemed as if they were clearing the air without admitting to it. She should tell him her yearlong plans. “I’m thinking of working with a mentor who’s had success helping other nonprofits get a solid start. The process is daunting.”
As the Tide Comes In Page 31
