Low Country Hero

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Low Country Hero Page 16

by Lee Tobin McClain


  “I’ll take tea, and you’re changing the subject.”

  “Maybe I am.”

  Norma took the cold glass of tea and sat down at Rita’s little kitchen table. “I’m glad to see you all set up here. Place came furnished, did it?”

  “Yep. The decor’s not half-bad, and the furniture’s comfortable. That’s all I need.”

  Norma looked around thoughtfully. “It’s as nice as what you had with T-Bone.”

  “Which wasn’t really me, either.” She’d cleaned up the place from T-Bone’s bachelor days, but had never put her own decorating stamp on it.

  Hard to do when she didn’t really know her own style, nor anything else about her past.

  “Anyway, about you and men,” Norma continued, “what you had with T-Bone wasn’t really a marriage, not at the end. You were his nurse.”

  Rita didn’t deny it. “I was his wife. That’s what you do. Caring for him when he’s sick is part of it.”

  “Yeah,” Norma said, “except you weren’t his regular wife, just common law, until the very end. Yet you did more for him than a lot of wives would do. Kept him at home when everyone was telling you to put him in a convalescent center.”

  Rita pulled out a chair and leaned forward, elbows on the table. “You know why. T-Bone saved me from dying. Nursed me around the clock when I was completely out of my mind with that head injury. Changed my bandages and carried me to the bathroom and spooned chicken broth and Jell-O into my mouth. You don’t think I should have taken care of him when he got sick?”

  Norma took a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket.

  Rita glared at her.

  “I know, not in here.”

  “Not anywhere! You’re a cancer survivor.”

  “I know, I know. I’m trying to quit.”

  Rita rolled her eyes.

  “Anyway, yes, T-Bone did a lot for you, but he got plenty out of it. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, and he wasn’t exactly a looker. When he found you on the side of that road, he knew it was the best he’d ever get.”

  “Norma! T-Bone had plenty of smarts. He could fix anything with a motor, and he could grow anything, nurse any dead plant back to life. It doesn’t matter he wasn’t handsome.”

  “Maybe not, but looks were sure important to him. Your looks, I mean. He loved that you were pretty. Bragged about you all the time.”

  “He had the right. He helped to make me that way, all those plastic surgeries to fix my face. That’s half the reason he didn’t have money. He spent it on me.” She looked down at the table. “I miss the man, even though I know he’s in a better place.”

  Norma snorted. “Saint Peter had to order him a supersized robe and pair of wings. But that’s not the point.”

  “What exactly is the point?”

  “Point is you haven’t ever had a real, good-looking man you chose yourself. So grab on to this Jimmy while you can, girl!”

  “I don’t know that I never had a handsome man before. I don’t know what I had before.” Rita sighed. “When you and I worked together, I got to the place where it didn’t matter. And then T-Bone told me he’d actually found me here. Not on a deserted stretch of highway like he’d always said.”

  “Which is why I can’t swear that he had a good heart. Who keeps the facts from someone with amnesia?”

  “He said he knew I’d come back,” she said, staring down at the table. “Because I’d wonder about my child.”

  “Of course you would! And rightly so.”

  But what kind of mother doesn’t remember her own child?

  “He was afraid I’d be killed if I came back. That my abuser would find me again. That’s what he told me.”

  “Here’s what I think,” Norma said. “I think he was afraid he’d lose the best thing that ever happened to him. T-Bone took care of T-Bone. And that’s why I’ll be really happy when you jump into an affair with Mr. Tatted Restaurant Manager. It would do you good.”

  “We’ll see.” There was a part of Rita that felt the same way, but another part couldn’t stomach the notion. T-Bone and her closest friends in Maine had known about her condition. People here didn’t. An amnesiac was a freak. And if she got into a dating relationship, where you talked about your life and your history, the awful gaps in her self-knowledge would have to come out. Wouldn’t they?

  “So tell me what you’ve done to find out the truth, since you’ve been here.”

  Rita pulled cheese out of the fridge, crackers from a cupboard. “I’m scoping things out. Getting the vibe of the place.”

  Norma raised an eyebrow. “Vibes. What does that mean?”

  “I walk around town and there are spots that seem more familiar. Spots that make me feel upset, actually.” She poured more tea for Norma.

  “Thanks. What kind of spots are bringing up your memories?”

  “The women’s shelter, couple of shops on the main street.”

  Norma leaned forward. “That’s interesting. Have you talked to the people at those places? Does anyone remember you?”

  Rita shook her head. “Twenty years later, the same people aren’t going to be working there.”

  “But they might know who came before them. They could have records. And that shelter...” Norma narrowed her eyes. “Condition you were in when T-Bone found you, it would make sense if you’d turned to them.”

  “I know.” Rita took a sip of tea and then shoved it aside, opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a beer. She opened it up and took a long pull.

  “Or how about the local library?” Norma persisted. “Do they have information from back then? Old newspapers stored digitally? And your Jimmy might know some old-timers who remember those days.”

  This was why she didn’t really want Norma here. Norma was sharp, brilliant actually, and persistent. But almost as soon as Rita had arrived in Safe Haven, she’d realized that she didn’t want to think about her past. Didn’t want to know the truth.

  And that in itself could be a key, right? Deep inside, she might know something horrible about herself.

  Chiefly, that she’d had a child, but that child hadn’t been with her when T-Bone had found her.

  And although over the years she’d asked him to give her a specific location for where she was found, he hadn’t done it. Had waved a hand and told her it was out in the country, away from any town.

  Only when he was dying had he revealed that he’d found her just outside Safe Haven.

  Having Norma here might force her to bring things to a head. Which was good, but not good, when you were this afraid of what you might find.

  * * *

  AFTER THE SCARE of receiving the bears and too-intimate gift from Beau, Anna had to make sure she and her girls were safe.

  And she couldn’t involve Sean. The note that had been on top of the lingerie in the heart-shaped box had made that clear: “Remember, you’re mine, all mine.”

  She’d unintentionally pricked Beau’s jealousy before, and the results had been ugly. Now that she’d upped the ante by leaving him—no. She couldn’t put Sean at risk by getting him involved in her messed-up life.

  The first step was to get the offending package out of the cabin, which she did as soon as she’d gotten back from dropping off the girls at Ma Dixie’s. She’d had a moment’s qualm about throwing away the teddy bears, since the girls had so few toys here. But she couldn’t risk Beau somehow getting to them. What if he’d drugged the bears? Her heart raced, faster and faster. What if he’d put a camera or GPS in them, as she’d once seen done on a television show?

  And if none of those rather outlandish things had happened, she still couldn’t risk the girls starting to miss Beau and have warm feelings toward him. She wouldn’t directly bad-mouth him, since he was their father, but she wasn’t going to facilitate any kind of closeness.

  She di
dn’t even take a second look at the lacy lingerie Beau had sent her. The very notion of wearing it made her cringe inside.

  There was some brush that needed to be burned. She started the fire, and when it was going strong, she threw the bears, then the lingerie on top and watched it burn.

  She’d gotten lulled into a false sense of security having Sean there, but she couldn’t count on him. Not without putting him at risk.

  After working all afternoon and then picking up the girls from the library program, she was tempted to stay in town to eat at the little diner, knowing how dark and deserted the Sea Pine Cottages got at night. But she didn’t really have the money for meals out. And she needed to be brave.

  She hadn’t realized, until now, that the isolated resort had felt safe because Sean was there for protection. But that wasn’t good. Relying on a man was a mistake.

  They’d be fine there, she and the girls, even without Sean around. But even though the box hadn’t come directly from Beau, but from Sheila, it had spooked her. It would be better to be safe and sound inside the cabin before it got dark.

  By the time they’d stopped to get gas and groceries, darkness was falling. Her nerves tensed, but then she glanced down the row of cottages and she saw a light on in Sean’s place.

  Hope rose within her. The fact that he was still here made her feel a hundred times more safe.

  It also made her want to talk to him, be near him. He’d kissed her so tenderly, so sweetly and with such promise. She’d never felt so cherished.

  As she helped the girls bathe and get into their pajamas, she dithered about whether or not to text him. She’d insisted that he leave because she didn’t want to put him at risk from Beau’s jealousy. But how likely was it that Beau would find them here? And how likely was it that he could somehow hurt Sean—giant, competent, muscular Sean?

  Be a grown-up. You decided to back off from him.

  But what if I made a mistake?

  Before she could lose heart, she sent a note:

  Could you come over for a few? Need to talk.

  Almost immediately she got a text back:

  I’m in Columbia. Something wrong?

  Fear clamped her insides. If it wasn’t Sean in his place, then who was it? She was pretty sure she’d seen a light go off and another go on.

  She searched around and found her pepper spray—how lax she’d gotten, that she didn’t have it handy—and shoved it in her pocket. Made sure the doors were locked, the windows, too.

  Then she texted him back:

  There’s someone in your cabin.

  I asked Tony to stay.

  Oh. Relief coursed through her, to learn that it wasn’t some stranger or intruder inhabiting Sean’s cabin.

  Know you don’t like him, but he’s reliable. Texting his contact information in case you need something.

  A few seconds later the shared contact came in.

  Got it. Thanks.

  She clicked her phone off.

  Her emotions were in turmoil. She was grateful that Sean had cared enough to plant a bodyguard when he was gone, even if that bodyguard was Tony. But there was no warmth in his texts, no emotion.

  She sighed. It seemed like he’d taken her coolness to heart, when in fact it had been manufactured out of worry about him. But maybe he’d been relieved by her distance. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to stay connected.

  All her old feelings of not being enough, of being in the way, of no good man wanting her, came back to her, making her heart ache in a familiar, hollow way.

  She ignored it and read to the girls, tucked them into bed and kissed them good-night, and as always, being around them made her priorities crystal clear.

  Her own longings notwithstanding, she couldn’t focus on Sean. She had to figure out some ways to make herself and the girls safer at home, whether home was this cabin or somewhere else down the road.

  First step: she contacted her friend Sheila, again, to ask about the package. This time, she got a sheepish message back. Yes, Beau had approached her about sending gifts to them. She hadn’t seen the harm. He didn’t have the address, no way—she hadn’t given it to him.

  But he really was sorry about their last fight, and he missed them all terribly.

  Sheila, Sheila, Sheila.

  Anna reiterated that Sheila wasn’t, under any circumstances, to reveal Anna’s location. But when she clicked away from the message she was still worried.

  Beau was obviously getting to Sheila. Gaining her sympathy, and he was good at that—he had his charming side.

  And Sheila had weaknesses: she liked drinking and partying and handsome men. Beau could appeal to those tastes for his own ends.

  So she had to stay ready to move at any time. And she had to rely on herself. Just like always.

  She used her phone to search online, and once she’d scrolled past all the ads for home security alarm systems, she got into list after list of safety measures you could take on your own. Most of them were for people who owned their own homes: install lights and motion sensors, remove outdoor hidden keys, hide objects attractive to thieves. Things she couldn’t do.

  But she could install locks or bars on the windows here. And maybe, she could get a dog. Not a purebred puppy, of course—she couldn’t afford that—but a rescue who needed a home.

  The thought of that filled her with hope. She’d always liked dogs, had befriended neighborhood ones and covertly fed strays. Beau had refused her request to get a dog, but she knew his secret reason: he was afraid of them.

  She called Miss Vi and then Ma Dixie, figuring they’d know how she could get a dog on the cheap. Sure enough, both had some good leads. And then, after checking the doors and windows one more time and fielding a text from Tony, checking on her, she climbed into bed.

  And lay there hoping against hope that her fears were wrong, that Beau was getting over her, and that they’d be able to stay in Safe Haven.

  * * *

  SEAN’S WORK KEPT him away the entire week, but by Saturday morning, he’d settled back into his cabin. He needed to double down on the renovations. The owner had toured the place last weekend and gotten excited: maybe they could have a grand opening later this summer, get some business for fall.

  Which meant he had to hustle. But the good news was, it was the weekend. Anna wouldn’t be here working with him.

  He’d checked in with Tony and learned that Anna and the girls were fine. No strange visitors, no graffiti or other threatening messages, at least not that Tony could see. They all seemed fine, happy.

  It was unseasonably hot, and before long he’d stripped off his shirt and was taking satisfaction in digging out a row of heavy-rooted shrubs.

  He’d dodged a bullet with Anna. He’d been so close to getting involved. Her ex’s package had arrived at just the right moment to remind Sean of lessons he’d learned in the past.

  He’d seen his mother return to his father, time after time. He couldn’t bear to see Anna do the same, putting herself and the twins at risk.

  He was on the last shrub when he heard it: the high, happy laughter of the twins.

  He’d hoped to avoid them, still planned to, but he couldn’t resist walking over to where he could get a clear sight line to the beach where the sound had come from.

  The girls were there, playing happily in the shallow water, digging with buckets and dancing with the surf, dressed in matching red swimsuits.

  And Anna was in her swimsuit, too: a black bikini. Modest by some standards, but as she laughed down at one of the twins, and then lifted her high in the air, Sean swallowed hard.

  He’d sort of known she had a gorgeous body under the baggy clothes she wore. He just hadn’t known how gorgeous. He dropped his shovel and walked a few steps closer, drawn like a magnet.

  Any husband would be an idiot to let a woman like Anna go. No
wonder her jerk of an ex had seen sense and decided to woo her back by sending gifts.

  He forced himself to turn away from the sunshine and beauty and cuteness before him and go back to his manual labor. Got into it harder, working up a sweat. He felt good ripping things out of the earth, using his muscles.

  It kept his mind away from the question Ma Dixie had asked him earlier today: If you’re not going to let love into your life again, what exactly do you have to look forward to?

  The truth was, right now, not much. But everyone was entitled to a down stretch. Normally he looked forward to playing poker with his buddies, or, now that he was back in town, having a beer at the Pig with old friends, or breakfast at the café with Liam and Cash. Normally, he enjoyed running his business and felt satisfied turning plain wood into buildings, homes for people, new decks and porches. Taking things that were old and ugly and making them nice again, whether in Knoxville or here in Safe Haven.

  An earsplitting scream pierced the dense, humid air and he dropped his shovel and sprinted toward the ocean, toward the sound. Had her ex gotten to them, done something awful?

  When he saw the three females alone and looking unharmed, his heart rate settled, but still, he jogged toward them. Anna was holding Hope on her lap as she sobbed, while Hayley stood pointing at something on the beach and screaming.

  Anna said something sharp to Hayley and she stopped screaming—thank heavens—lapsing down instead into a sobbing heap.

  “What happened?” he asked when he got there.

  Anna jolted, her arms tightening around Hope, and looked up at him. She drew in a breath, her shoulders relaxing a little.

  “She stepped on a jellyfish and it stung her,” Anna explained, examining Hope’s foot. “I don’t know what to do about it, and I left my phone in the cabin, so I can’t google it. Do you know?”

  He knelt, examined the sting and nodded. “We got stung all the time, as kids. Most of the jellyfish around here aren’t dangerous. But it hurts, doesn’t it, honey?” He ruffled Hope’s hair.

  Hope looked up at him, teary eyed.

 

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