Lessons of a Lowcountry Summer

by Rochelle Alers

  Her lush mouth softened as she smiled. “Of course.”

  She did not have to wait long, because a younger version of Theo opened the passenger side door for her, his large, dark eyes filled with curiosity. Seconds later, another young man appeared, looking enough like Theo to have been his clone.

  “I’m Brandon,” said the first one, extending his right hand to help her down.

  Her shoes touched sand-littered concrete. “Thank you, Brandon. I’m Hope Sutton.”

  “Theo told us you were coming for dinner. He also warned us if we were not on our best behavior he would jack us up.” His voice was low, as if he were telling her a secret.

  Hope’s jaw dropped slightly. “Jack you up how?”

  “Don’t know, don’t want to find out,” Brandon’s brother said.

  Theo rounded the Lexus, cradling the container with the shortcake to his chest. “Let’s go inside where we can be introduced properly.”

  Hope rolled her eyes at Theo. Didn’t he know threats and intimidation never worked with children, especially teenagers? Flanked by Brandon and his brother, she followed Theo into a rear door that led to an air-cooled modern kitchen. A petite woman with stylishly cut silver hair and sparkling blue eyes looked up from her task of shredding lettuce and flashed a friendly smile.

  “Welcome.”

  Hope returned her smile. “Thank you.”

  Theo handed Noelle the container. “Please put this in the refrigerator.”

  “What is it?”

  “Strawberry shortcake.”

  Noelle stared at Hope. “Did you make it, Miss Hope?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Cool.”

  Theo dropped an arm over his brothers’ shoulders. “Hope, I’d like for you to meet my brothers. Christian and Brandon, Miss Hope Sutton.”

  She inclined her head. “It’s nice meeting you.”

  “Everybody calls me Chris.”

  Hope noticed that Theo had tightened his grip on Christian. “Then Chris it is.” She smiled at Brandon. “How about you? Do you wish to be called something else?”

  Shyly, he dropped his head. “No. Brandon’s okay.”

  Theo removed his arms and walked over to Helen. “Helen Bryant, housekeeper, peacemaker, and all-around saint. Helen, my friend, Hope Sutton.”

  Helen wiped her hands on a towel, extending the right one. “My pleasure, Hope.”

  Hope shook her proffered hand, noticing that the intense summer sun had not been kind to the woman’s fair skin. The tip of her nose was a bright pink.

  “Same here, Miss Helen.”

  The housekeeper’s face flushed. “The Miss Helen is for the kids,” she whispered.

  “Can I help you with anything?”

  Helen waved a hand. “No. You’re a guest. The next time you come you won’t be a guest. Then you can help me—that is, only if you want to,” she added, meeting Theo’s incredulous glare.

  Shaking his head, he cupped Hope’s elbow. “Come sit and relax. As soon as the meat and fish are done, we’ll eat.”

  She followed him out of the kitchen to the rear of the house. An expansive outdoor patio with Adirondack chairs shaded by large white umbrellas faced the ocean. Four rotisserie chickens turning slowly on a commercial cart grill made her mouth water. The only thing she’d had all morning was a cup of tea.

  Theo pulled out a chair at a large round table with seating for six. She sat down. A pale-blue-flower-sprigged tablecloth, with a hole cut in the middle to accommodate the pole for the overhead umbrella, matched the stack of white plates with a narrow blue trim. Beside it, a wicker basket was filled with cloth napkins and silverware.

  He hunkered down beside the chair, smiling. “How hungry are you?”

  Hope met his gaze. “Very.”

  “Good. I was hoping you brought your appetite, because Helen was up before dawn cooking. She believes she’s feeding a small army.”

  “Cooking for three teenagers is a small army.”

  “Amen to that,” he whispered. “Is there anything you don’t eat?”

  “I’m off red meat for the summer.”

  Theo angled his head, his eyes narrowing. “Are you all right?”

  Her expression stilled and grew serious. “Yes.” The look on Theo’s face said he did not believe her. “If I eat red meat, then it must be organic.”

  His smile was dazzling. “You’re in luck. Helen only buys organic meats, fruits, and vegetables. She says foods with additives and preservatives play havoc with her hormone levels.”

  Hope wanted to tell Theo that she and his housekeeper had something in common. Averting her gaze, she stared at the beach. “The view of the ocean from this point on the island is spectacular.” Less than a quarter of a mile away was the proposed site for Palmetto Haven, a private gated community for the wealthy.

  Theo straightened. Hope had changed the subject. If she was sick, then he wondered how sick? Had she come to McKinnon to reconnect with her roots before…? His thoughts trailed off. He did not want to think of her dying.

  “I’ll be right back with something for you to nibble on.”

  Theo retreated to the house, and a minute later Brandon arrived with a platter of deviled eggs and stuffed grape leaves in one hand and a bowl of shrimp and avocado seviche in the other. Noelle followed with a bowl of crispy tortilla chips and bite-size parmesan-dusted meatballs.

  “I helped Theo make the meatballs,” she announced proudly. Noelle speared a meatball with a toothpick, put it on a small plate, and handed it to Hope.

  She took a bite, her eyes widening in surprise. “It’s delicious.” It had a Mediterranean flavor. After the second bite, the meatball was gone.

  “Theo said the recipe comes from Greece.”

  “I take it your brother cooks very well.”

  Noelle sat down next to Hope. “He cooks better than Miss Helen,” she whispered. “Please don’t tell her I said that.”

  Hope became her coconspirator when she said, “I won’t.”

  “What are you two whispering about?”

  Theo had come up on them without making a sound. “I was just telling Noelle how much I like the meatballs.” Hope hadn’t lied, but it wasn’t totally the truth either.

  “She did most of the work. All I did was measure the ingredients.” He placed two pitchers filled with icy concoctions on the table.

  “Which one is for the kids?” Noelle asked.

  Theo pulled her braids. “They’re both for the kids. The grown-folk drinks are inside.”

  Brandon and Christian came out of the house, carrying a large pot and a pan of marinated meat. The pot went on one of grill’s two range-top burners, the pan of meat on a side table. Helen finally put in her appearance, carrying a large wooden bowl filled with salad. The activity increased until the table literally groaned with food.

  Christian assumed the responsibility of manning the grill, while Brandon acted as waiter, bringing platters of cooked and steamed dishes to the table. Hope sampled a butter toasted frankfurter roll filled with lobster salad and topped with fresh chopped chives, steamed clams in a savory leek butter, and shoestring fries dusted with kosher salt. She ate sparingly, saving room for the grilled chicken, filet mignon medallions, and the salad made with an assortment of field greens and marinated vegetables.

  Their cooking and serving duties completed, Brandon and Christian sat down and began eating. The pitchers of punch disappeared quickly, and Theo got up, returned to the house, and came back with two more.

  He pointed to a pitcher filled with a pale yellow liquid. “Grown folks.”

  The three Andersons exchanged knowing glances, then nodded. All knew how their older brother felt about underage drinking.

  Christian reached for an empty platter. “I’m going to clean up now.”

  Theo frowned at him. “What’s your hurry? We still haven’t had dessert.”

  He gave his guardian a direct stare. “We can eat dessert later. It’s time we left for th
e movies, or we’re going to be late.”

  Theo returned the stare. “Then go.”

  “We… we don’t have to clear the table?” Noelle asked, her voice rising slightly in surprise.

  Theo affected a stern expression. “If you’re going to the movies, then go. Otherwise stay and clean up. No speeding,” he called out to Christian as he shot up from the table. Then the three teenagers were gone, racing in the direction of the carport.

  Helen chuckled softly. “I’ve never seen them move that fast.”

  Shaking his head slowly, Theo said, “I don’t know why they’re in such a hurry to go see a movie they’ve seen before.”

  Hope knew the answer. Going off without an adult chaperone was a show of independence, a sign that they could be trusted. She took another sip of her vodka lemonade, staring at Theo over the rim of her glass. What she saw in his gaze should have shocked her, but it didn’t, because she felt the same.

  His gaze dropped to her bared shoulders, then to her breasts. Her hand stilled, as if paralyzed. She couldn’t move, breathe. He radiated a sensuality that drew her like a magnet. Reluctantly she pulled her gaze away. Only then was she able to breathe normally.

  “I’ll help clean up.”

  “No, you won’t,” Helen argued. “You’re a guest.”

  Turning her head slowly, Hope looked at Theo, who took furtive sips of his drink. “Do you plan on inviting me back?”

  He seemed startled by her query. “Of course.”

  Placing her napkin on the table, she began to push back her chair. “Then that settles it. I’m not a guest.”

  Theo moved quickly, pulling back her chair. His left arm curved around her waist. “It’s not good to get on Helen’s bad side,” he whispered close to her ear.

  Hope shivered despite the heat. “Let me handle this, please.” He dropped his arm, and she felt his loss immediately. She liked him touching her. “Helen, I’d like to talk to you about something.”

  The bright blue eyes were suddenly alert. “What about?”

  Leaning down, she whispered, “Female stuff.”

  “Of course, dear. We’ll talk in the kitchen.” She stood up and motioned to Theo. “You stay and relax. Hope and I will clean up everything.”

  He sat back down, shaking his head. At forty years of age, he still did not understand women. In the six years he had come to know Helen Bryant, she had never permitted anyone to help her clean her kitchen, yet she hadn’t known Hope more than three hours and without warning she had reversed her hard stance.

  He was tempted to bring some of the dishes into the house but quickly changed his mind. He would do as Helen suggested—sit and relax. He moved away from the table and lay on a chaise under the protective cover of an umbrella. He was not only full but also sleepy. He doubted whether he had had more than three hours of uninterrupted sleep, because his dreams were disturbed by the images of the woman who had spent the past three hours at his table.

  There was no doubt his brothers were as intrigued by her as he was. Christian had whispered to him that Hope was hot, while Brandon surreptitiously had given him the thumbs-up sign.

  McKinnon Island was good for Noelle, Christian and Brandon. It was even good for Helen. She cooked less and did not have as much laundry. Most times the teenagers lived in swimsuits, while grilling outdoors. The only thing she complained about was their tracking sand into the house.

  Theo opened his eyes and smiled. Yes, McKinnon Island was very good for him because of Hope. It was the first time in a very long time that he wanted to see a woman not because he wanted her to share his bed. She made him laugh, and she challenged him. Letting out an audible sigh, he closed his eyes and within minutes succumbed to a gentle peace that had eluded him most of his life.

  Theo woke up, startled. He thought he’d heard voices. Raising his left arm, he stared at his watch. It was almost seven. The afternoon had sped past. Swinging his legs over the chaise, he sat up. Hope and Helen were nowhere to be seen. He pushed off the chaise and went into the kitchen. Everything had been put away.

  A shiver snaked its way up his spine. The house was too cool. He stopped to adjust the thermostat before he walked into the family room. Helen sat in a deep club chair, her bare feet on a matching ottoman. She was reading the latest James Patterson Alex Cross mystery.

  Her head came up and she smiled. “I suppose you’re looking for Hope? She’s down on the beach,” Helen continued before he could answer. “She’s very nice, Theo. A lot better than some of the others I’ve seen you with.”

  He flashed a half-smile. “So, you like her, too?”

  She stared at him with surprise. “You’re not going to tell me to mind my business?”

  “Not today, Miss Helen,” he said, grinning.

  “Invite her back tomorrow.” She wasn’t certain Theo heard her, because he was already out the door, heading in the direction of the beach.

  Seventeen

  She’s gazing at you so tenderly, drowning you in sparkling conversation.

  —Aleksandr Pushkin

  Theo spied Hope sitting on the sand. She’d taken off her shoes. Slowing his pace, he watched her as he closed the distance between them. Wisps of jet-black hair had escaped the twist at the back of her head and trailed over her nape and shoulder. She was so still she could have been a statue. Then she moved, cradling her hands in her lap. She appeared to be meditating. He stopped, prepared to retreat, when she turned her head and looked at him, smiling. He sat down beside her, close enough for their shoulders to touch.

  “I hope you’ll forgive me for not being the attentive host.”

  She turned and looked at him. “Why? Because you fell asleep?”

  She had a wonderful voice—cloaking, sensual and seductive. “Yes.”

  “I probably would’ve joined you if I’d remained on the chaise. That’s the reason I came down here. I’ve been taking in the view.”

  Theo’s gaze shifted from Hope’s face to the expanse of ocean in front of him. “It is magnificent. The first time I came down here all I thought about was how the first Africans who stepped foot on this island must have felt seeing it for the first time. Were they frightened? Did it remind them of home? Did they ever believe they would make it back across to reunite with their families?”

  Hope stared at Theo’s profile. “I used to wonder the same thing whenever I summered here as a child. My great-grandparents died before I was born. However, Grandmomma told me that there was a time when a lot of McKinnon was jungle. The trees and underbrush were so thick that sunlight never touched the ground.”

  “How old were you when you began spending summers here?”

  “My parents brought us down when we were toddlers. The first summer I remember staying without my parents was the year I turned nine. My two older brothers were involved in summer youth programs back in New Jersey, so they didn’t have to stay. And my younger sister cried so much my parents took her back with them.

  “This suited me because then I had Grandmomma and Grandpapa to myself. I’d become a regular farm girl. I got up early to gather eggs from the chicken, then eat with Grandpapa before he went out on his fishing boat. I’d help weed the vegetable garden, sit on the porch and shell peas, piece quilts, and listen to the old people tell their stories about ‘yondah’ times before I’d help my grandmother cook supper.

  “Even though we were isolated, everyone managed to keep up with events going on in the world beyond McKinnon. While the country was fighting over civil rights and the war in Vietnam, the islanders went on with their lives just like their grandparents and great-grandparents. That was when there weren’t too many whites left on McKinnon.”

  “When did most of them leave?”

  “After the Civil War.”

  “Why then?”

  “The plantation economic system had vanished. Former slave owners returned to the mainland, while the Gullah stayed.”

  “Do you understand Gullah?”

  Hope smiled. �
��Yes. But I don’t speak it well. My mother wouldn’t let any of her children speak it.”

  Theo arched an eyebrow. “Why not?”

  “She said it was too African.” Her gaze met Theo’s. “Tell me about your Gullah roots. How did you get to the West Coast?”

  “My maternal grandfather, whom I don’t remember, was from these parts. He got a job as a porter on the railroad and found himself heading west. The first time he saw California he thought he had come to the Promised Land. He quit the railroad, even though it was considered a good job in those days, and went to work in one of the newer hotels in San Francisco as a handyman. That’s when he met my grandmother.”

  “She also worked at the hotel?”

  Smiling, Theo shook his head. “No. She was a nurse. He was taken to a municipal hospital after he’d fallen down an elevator shaft, breaking his leg. She took a liking to him after he’d been placed on her ward. Once he was discharged, they began courting and married three months later.”

  “It sounds like a romance novel.”

  “She always said that a woman may love a lot of men, but will fall in love only once in her life.”

  “Is it the same for men, Theo?”

  He shook his head. “I wouldn’t know.” And he didn’t, because he’d never been in love. “Have you ever been in love, Hope?”

  Why, she thought, did he make her name sound like a caress? A cynical smile twisted her mouth. “I thought I was.”

  “What happened?” he asked after a comfortable silence.

  “He preferred someone else.” Theo’s head came around slowly, his expression mirroring incredulity.

  She smiled. “What’s the matter?”

  “I can’t believe he left you?”

  Her expression sobered as she gave him a long, penetrating look. “No. I left him.” Changing the subject, Hope asked, “How was it growing up in southern California?”

  Theo was perceptive enough to know that Hope had deftly redirected the topic of conversation away from her. And he did not have to have a doctorate in psychology to know that she had come to McKinnon to recover from a failed relationship.