by Louise, Tia
When our eyes meet, her face goes white.
I put a hand on my hip. “Hello, Daisy.”
She only hesitates a moment before she starts walking again. “Hi, Tabby. Is Emberly still inside?”
“Of course.” I wait at the door until Daisy’s reaches it, wondering if she’ll try to say something for herself.
She only stands there, blinking down to her shoes. “You know…” She’s speaking carefully, as if she’s choosing her words. “Jimmy Rhodes has been my delivery boy for the last year.”
“I know.” I shift my position. “And Wyatt’s and Betty’s. What’s the point?”
“He used to always talk about how you were his girl.” She gives me a weak little smile. “He’d say, ‘That Deputy Tucker keeps trying to steal my girl!’” She imitates his voice and exhales a little laugh when she finishes.
“Did you really believe I’d date a seventeen-year-old?” I’m not buying it.
“I thought he was eighteen.” She shakes her head. “Anyway, between taking care of Melody and trying to run the shop, I don’t get out much. Deputy Tucker would stop by every day and chat for a little while. He’d hold Melody and say how big she was getting, how cute she was.”
“He stops in and chats with everybody—André, Betty, Wyatt, Emberly, Coco. He’s getting to know the community, making sure everybody knows him and feels safe.”
She nods. “I understand that now. I guess I was just feeling lonely, and he’s so handsome…”
Damn you, Daisy Sales. “Look, I get feeling lonely, and I get you don’t go out much. Stop going after my guys.”
She blinks down fast again and nods. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t know he was yours.”
My lips tighten. I guess technically he wasn’t… Still.
Our eyes meet, and hers are pleading. “Besides, Chad isn’t like Travis. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know. He doesn’t want anyone but you.”
A pain twists in the middle of my stomach at her words. Now he’s gone, and I don’t even know for how long.
“Whatever, I have to go.” I hurry down the steps to where Emberly’s bike is chained in the alley. Before she leaves, I call back, “Now you know.”
Our eyes meet, and she nods. I pull out the bike and push it towards the lane, standing in the pedals so I can pick up speed to get to Coco before her teacher charges me a dollar for being late.
* * *
It’s after six when I return with Emberly’s bike. I park it in the alley and put the chain on, carrying Coco’s little helmet under my arm as I enter the shop. Instead of sugar and vanilla, the place smells like hair spray and Shalimar.
I know what that means.
Betty Pepper is standing by Emberly’s table with a pimped-out Roxanne Philpot at her side. When Emberly sees me, she gives me a look that screams Help!
“Hey, BP, hey, Roxanne! What’s new in the world of swinging singles?”
“Tabitha,” Betty barks like a drill sergeant. “Come over here and get in on this. Roxanne has the best idea for getting more business in the store, and Emberly’s dragging her feet.”
“I don’t know if I’d call it the best idea…” Emberly’s voice sounds defeated.
“Stop being a prude, Emberly Rose. Your mother doesn’t have to know everything you do. Besides, how often does she come in here anyway?”
As much as I don’t like Marjorie Warren, BP has a point. Emberly’s mom rarely visits, and it makes me sad, considering Emberly is my best friend and all. I know not having your mother’s approval hurts. Even if your mother is the queen of all the judgy old biddies and constantly makes you feel like you’re not living up to your “full potential.” I wish Marjorie would get her head out of her ass.
At least she’s sweet to Coco.
“So what’s this great idea?” I look from Betty to Roxanne.
Roxanne Philpot stands with one hip cocked to the side. She’s wearing hot pink pants and a white shirt with matching hot pink palm trees all over it. Her platinum hair is teased into a perfect bouffant around her head, and her glasses are purple frames with rose tinted lenses.
The only thing she’s missing is a foot-long cigarette holder and a pink poodle.
“Well, as you know I just got back from my trip abroad.” She says the word like it’s code.
Betty leans in to me. “You should talk to Roxanne about getting her sex club island up on your travel site. Suggest that to your friends in Seattle.”
“Sure, I’ll suggest it.” I have no intention of suggesting it.
Roxanne flashes her sparkling white veneers at me. “Oh, yes, honey. I have pictures and everything if you need them.”
I also have no plans to mentally scar myself looking at pictures of a bunch of old people naked.
“You know, the clients really prefer to use stock photos—unless it’s something I’ve taken myself. For legal reasons. Otherwise, we’d have to track everybody down, get them all to sign releases. Or blur out their faces, which makes it seem like we’re hiding something…”
Hot pink lips twist into a frown. “Good lord, I don’t know how all that stuff works. Anyway, so I was telling Emberly here one night while we were on the island, we were celebrating Antonio’s birthday. Let me tell you, it was wild. We were all drinking champagne in our birthday suits, and when they carried out his cake, it was a giant penis!”
I almost swallow my gum. “A penis.”
“Yes!” Roxanne starts to laugh. “It was the funniest thing I’d ever seen. I mean, it was perfectly decorated and very appropriate, if you know what I’m saying.”
I’m almost afraid to ask. “So you’re suggesting Emberly should start making penis cakes… for Hedonism?”
“No! Pfft. You silly girl.” She waves her hand, rolling those heavily lashed eyes. “I’m talking about doing them here! For bachelorette parties or anniversary parties or girls’ nights. Or hell, do we have any of the gays in Oceanside? I’m sure they’d just love a penis cake. The boy ones anyway.”
Jesus, take the wheel. “You know, they always forget to wear their rainbow badges when they go out. Those silly gays.”
Emberly snorts, but I’m holding my face steady. I’ve never met anybody so utterly clueless… Okay, that’s not true. I look at the old lady salivating next to Roxanne.
“Never mind them. What do you think?” Betty Pepper is practically jumping up and down with glee.
“I think it’s up to Emberly to decide if she wants to make penis cakes. Right here in town.”
My best friend is shaking her head, and I just shake my head right back at her.
“I tell you what,” she finally says. “If I get an order for a penis cake, I’ll see if I can figure out how to make one. Until then, I’m not putting it on the regular list of options.”
“Ha ha! There you go!” Betty slaps her hand on the table. “I told you she’d be open to the idea. Now we’ll get you a little side business going, bringing in more money for you and Coco. You can charge extra for adult items.”
“Thanks.” Emberly’s voice is the opposite of grateful. “Y’all have a good night now. Thanks for stopping by.”
“Come on, Roxie, now that that’s settled, we have to hurry. We’re going to be late for church.” Betty hurries to the door, but Roxanne stays beside me.
“You know, Tabitha,” She places a manicured hand on my arm. “I’ve always thought you and I are a lot alike.”
“Is that so?” I’m not sure where this is going.
She continues unfazed by my hesitance. “We’re both independent ladies. Some might call us bad girls or Jezebels, but they’re small-minded twerps.” She leans a little closer, surrounding me with Aqua-Net and Shalimar. “If you’d ever like to tag along with me on one of my trips, just say the word. I’d love a companion.”
I can’t even imagine. “Thank you, Ms. Roxanne. I’ll remember that.”
“Call me Roxie!” She straightens and heads to the door. “Goodnight, girls. Glad I could h
elp out your business, Emberly.”
The door closes, and Emberly snorts a laugh. “Next stop, Hedonism!”
“You’d better start shopping for new cake pans. I have the feeling a rash of penis cakes is headed your way.”
“No!” Emberly’s hands fly up to her face. “Don’t say rash and penis in the same sentence.”
That makes me laugh. “You know Betty Pepper is sitting in church dreaming of hers right now. I’ve never seen that old lady’s eyes so bright.”
“I confess, I’m intrigued.” Emberly puts a hand on her hip. “I’d like to see if my skills are up to the challenge.”
“You can do anything you set your mind to!” I hand over Coco’s helmet and hug her goodnight. “See you tomorrow.”
The exercise, the time with my best friend, even the suggestion I join the over-fifty crowd at Hedonism have all lifted my spirits.
As soon as I get home, though, it all evaporates.
I walk into my lonely cottage. It’s quiet and my computer screen glows in the darkness. The Travel Time site is done, tested, debugged, and ready for its big launch tomorrow at midnight.
I have to make a decision about whether or not to take Rani and AJ’s offer. Chad’s words are on my mind. Hell, Chad is on my mind. He never leaves my mind. What is he doing?
Dropping onto my couch, I pull out my phone and stare at the blank face. Roxanne Philpot’s offer echoes in my brain, and as much as my inner travel goddess recoils at the suggestion she and I are alike, it’s kind of true.
She’s thirty years older than me, but she has a unique sense of style. She’s independent and free spirited… And she’s alone.
Is that how I want to be?
It used to be. Granted, my destination choices are a little different, but I always dreamed of taking off, seeing the world. I never cared if I did it alone. Now everything feels hollow and empty. The trips that were so exciting before feel half as exciting now. It’s like I’ve lost part of the thing that made me want to go.
Have I lost it?
Turning my wrist over, I trace my finger along the lines of my tattoo. The bruises are gone, but the word is there bold and dark. Believe.
My throat is tight, but I reach for my phone. Touching the buttons quickly, I tap out a message. Every muscle in my body is tense as I stare at the words, my thumb hovering over the blue send arrow.
Before I can change my mind, I tap it.
Twenty-Five
Chad
The Admiral’s Club is filled with Charleston’s elite, and my mother holds my arm as we circle the room. I feel like a prized stallion being taken out for a walk.
“Buffy, your eyes look amazing.” She kisses the cheek of an older woman I’ve known since I was a child.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Evelyn,” Buffy, short for Elizabeth, shakes her helmet of hair. Her newly lifted eyes turn to me. “My goodness, Charles, you look just like your father in that suit. If I’d glanced, I’d have thought you were him.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hatcher.” She leans forward to kiss my cheek, and her expensive perfume fills my nose. I do my best not to cough.
Once Buffy the Vampire Slayer was on television, Charity started calling her Mrs. Hatchett.
An older man joins us—Mr. Beau Hatchett. Yep, Buffy and Beau. It’s like that here.
He extends a hand, and I give it a firm shake. “Good to see you, son. How’s that golf game holding up?”
I smile, giving the expected reply. “Can’t seem to get below a 92.”
He slaps me on the back. “You need to join your father and I on the course. Get in more green time.”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever be up to your standards.” It’s a double entendre, and I know it. These old guys live in a different world—one I am not here to join.
I’m here for one reason only, and I haven’t seen her yet.
“What’s this I hear about you working as a sheriff’s deputy?” Beau’s voice lowers, and he catches my elbow, pulling me away from my mother’s grasp.
I feel her fingers tighten, but Buffy takes her arm. “Let the boys talk. Have you tried the pâté? It’s vegan walnut. You know Charlene is on a cruelty free food campaign. It’s actually quite delicious…”
They drift away, and Beau guides us into a more secluded area of the hall. He’s holding a tumbler of scotch, as am I, but he’s also clutching a large cigar.
“What’s all this business about?” He smiles, but I know he’s been sent to ask the questions my father never will. “Still got the urge to serve and protect? I bet we could find you something more prestigious right here at home.”
“I’m sure you could.” I take a sip of my drink. “I appreciate the offer, but I enjoy being in Oceanside.”
“Oceanside… that’s the little town on the coast. The one Randall Lockwood tried to develop.” He takes a pull off his cigar and blue smoke curls around our heads.
“From the looks of things, he did more than try. Oceanside Beach is thriving. Several celebrities have recently built mansions on the cliffs.”
“Is that what you want? A cliffside mansion?”
“No.” My eyes drift to the room, searching.
“What do you want then?” The words are just leaving his mouth when I spot her.
I look back at him, ready to end this conversation. “I want to live my life on my own terms.”
He coughs a laugh. “None of us are able to do that, Charles, it’s a fairytale. We all have roles to fill. It’s time you came back and took your place at your father’s side.”
“According to whom?” I’m too old to be intimidated by these people anymore. I have too much to lose now.
“Your father would never say it, but you broke his heart when you ran off less than a week after getting out of the service.”
“Robbie made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“Robbie Cole is an outlier. His mother was an artist, a hippie.” Beau shakes his head and takes another sip of his drink. “You’re not. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. We’d discussed grooming you for a place in the senate. Now that you’re a veteran, it’s practically a given.”
My brow furrows. This is news to me. It makes sense now that I think about it. Having me in a position with the government could yield all sorts of useful tax breaks and incentives for business in Charleston.
“I don’t have any interest in running for senate. Now if you’ll excuse me. It was… interesting to see you again, sir.”
I grip his elbow then make my way through the crowd to where a tall blonde is standing beside the champagne table.
Beau’s voice is just loud enough for me to hear him over the low murmur of voices and modern jazz. “Maybe Nan can talk some sense into you.”
My ex-fiancée is wearing a floor-length sand-colored gown with clear beads all over it. I’m sure my mother would say it’s blush or greige. Some made-up color. It’s times like these when Charity’s absence feels particularly acute.
She turns as if she feels me approaching and her slim brows rise. Her platinum hair is chin-length and curled in two perfect waves at her cheeks, and her lips are the color of her dress.
“I heard you were here.” She steps forward and places both hands on my chest, kissing my cheek. Nan always smells like vanilla or some type of pastry, and her tone is always like she’s telling a joke. “As tall, dark, and handsome as ever. What the hell are you doing back in Charleston?”
“Looking for you.” My voice is low and serious by contrast.
“Lucky me.” Her blue eyes narrow. “Only, I don’t think you mean what I hoped you meant.”
“Can we go somewhere to talk?”
“It’s too late to worry about setting off the gossip hounds. The moment I touched you, they all declared us back together and are now preparing for a December wedding. I’m sure my mother is picking out fur-lined bridal gowns as we speak.”
She takes a sip of champagne, and I remember why I stayed wi
th her for as long as I did. If I were going to be forced into marriage with one of their pedigreed young ladies, at least Nan had a biting sense of humor.
“Even so.” I take her arm and lead her to the wall of French doors separating the dining room from the balcony overlooking the grounds. “I’d rather have this conversation where I’m sure no one’s listening.”
“Someone’s always listening, Charles.” When we reach the low stone walls of the balcony, Nan sits, crossing a leg and looking up at me. “I thought you said you were never coming back here.”
“My mother came for a visit last weekend. She said some things that bothered me.”
Nan starts to laugh. “If I took a trip every time my mother said something that bothered me—”
“I’m sorry I left the way I did.” Her brow furrows with confusion. “I know you were probably expecting more from me, and I came back and ended it. I felt like I needed to apologize to you.”
She stands and steps closer, putting her hand in mine. “Is this why you came all the way back here? We talked about all that. We agreed it was the right thing to do. You weren’t in love with me, and Lord knows, I’d have just driven you crazy.”
Our eyes meet and hers are warm. She stretches up on her toes and kisses my cheek once more. “Oh, Chad,” she sighs. “Underneath that brooding façade and shield of brawn, you still have a soft heart.”
She lets me go and walks over to pick up her champagne flute. I watch her a moment, wanting to be sure. “And you’ve always been the sweetheart of Sigma Chi. Why aren’t you dating someone? Why would my mother say you’re waiting for me?”
Her head snaps up, eyes flashing. “Your mother said…” Just as fast she nods. “Right. Of course she said that. That’s how they’re spinning it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m afraid you’ve been pulled into the fiction of why I’m, quote, not seeing anyone, darling.” She moves her fingers in little curly motions.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
