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Low Country Hero

Page 21

by Lee Tobin McClain


  Anna walked behind the table and perched on a stool beside Yasmin. “I wish I had time to volunteer. Single mom...two little ones... I have to stick pretty close to home when I’m not working. If you have a job that I could do from home, I’d be glad to help. Lord knows, I believe in your cause.” Then she could have slapped herself. She wasn’t one to admit the embarrassing way she’d been treated by Beau.

  “Actually...” Yasmin tapped a pencil against her lips. “One of my big needs is someone to recruit and coordinate our hotline volunteers. You could do most of that by phone. Any interest? Being a volunteer coordinator would look great on your résumé.”

  “Are you serious?” Anna stared at Yasmin. When had anyone ever wanted Anna’s help with something so professional? “Why would you ask me to do something like that? I don’t even have a high school diploma.”

  Yasmin shrugged. “You’re smart. Good people skills, and you must be organized to be doing a good job with two special-needs kids, while setting up in a new town and working a new job.”

  Anna blinked. It was the second time today someone had said she was doing a good job at her life. “Tell me what’s involved,” she said, taking out her phone to jot down notes. “I’ll see what I can do. Next week, the girls are doing some full days at the library’s Spring Break program, so I might have a little extra time.”

  * * *

  SEAN WAS HEADED toward the exit of this not-his-type-of-party when he heard his brother call out to him. “You’re leaving for real?”

  Liam’s voice held censure and Sean really just wanted to keep walking. But he made the mistake of half turning back toward the gathering. He should have just left after that encounter with Anna and Rafael, rather than coming back to let his brothers know.

  “We made a commitment.” Liam glared at him.

  “You and Cash are handling the kids fine. Better than I can do. I scare ’em.”

  “Whose fault is that? Can you blame anyone but yourself?” Liam was winding up into full lecture mode, which would have been funny considering how Liam used to idolize Sean, except that Liam’s words were true. “You could dress nicer and smile once in a while. It wouldn’t kill you.”

  “It might,” Sean said, just to egg Liam on and dodge the real issues.

  “Miss Vi stuck her neck out for us all the time when we were kids. We owe her.”

  “I’ll do something else. Maintenance work at the library, or something. I’m no good with kids.”

  Liam cocked an eyebrow. “You seem to do okay with Anna’s twins.”

  “Leave it alone.” Sean spun and stalked out of the gated yard.

  He’d had the sense that she cared, but he’d obviously been wrong.

  You were the one who told her it couldn’t work.

  Yeah, but saying that had practically choked him, because he’d wanted it to work so bad. Because he’d grown to care for Anna and her little girls. He’d hated hurting her, hated hurting them, even if it was for their own good.

  A late-model SUV squealed to a stop at the curb, just close enough that Sean could read its BMW logo. Rich people drove like maniacs, and for what? So they could show off their suits and dresses in somebody’s back garden?

  The window lowered. “Sean O’Dwyer. I need help. Can you give me a hand here?”

  The voice belonged to Bitsy Mercer, one of Cash’s many high school girlfriends. Her school nickname, Ditsy Bitsy, wasn’t nice, but it had always fit her so well that it had stuck. “Hey, Bitsy, what’s wrong?” As he walked closer, he heard children crying from the back seat.

  Bitsy got out of the car and opened the back door. “Okay, okay, I’m getting you out. You can see Mommy in a minute.”

  When he saw Hayley climbing out of the back seat, Sean’s gut clenched. The twins shouldn’t be spending even an afternoon in Ditsy Bitsy’s care.

  “Hey, Hayley.” He approached her slowly, kneeling to her level, but she cringed back against the car. Hope emerged next, crying, and when she saw Sean, her sobs intensified.

  Their reaction made him feel about six inches tall, because he knew he’d caused it himself. “What’s going on?” he asked Bitsy.

  “Can you just take them in to their mom? I left my twelve-year-old in charge of my girls.” She lifted her hands, palms up. “They were doing fine. I thought it was going to be okay that they didn’t talk. Poor little things, they need to play with some normal kids their own age.”

  Sean frowned at her. “They understand every word you’re saying, Bitsy.”

  “Well, I don’t understand them. The kids were all playing outside, and I guess something spooked them. They freaked and ran in and were hiding. I had a terrible time getting them into the car, and I have no idea what upset them.”

  Sean looked toward the girls. “What happened?”

  They met each other’s eyes and pressed their lips together in identical silent frowns.

  “Tell Anna I’ll call her. And that I’m sorry.” Bitsy took Hope’s hand and urged her toward Sean, then followed suit with Hayley. “Thanks a bunch.”

  Then she was gone with a squeal of tires and the purr of a very fine engine.

  And he was left with two scared little girls to take care of. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go find Mom.”

  They stood frozen to the spots where Bitsy had placed them. Hope was still crying.

  It was a standoff that couldn’t be maintained forever. “Who wants to ride on my shoulders?” he asked.

  Hayley didn’t speak, but her eyes lit up, and his heart lifted. He’d been harsh to her before, or at least cold, but she had a short memory, apparently.

  Kids were so quick to forgive. Adults would do well to follow their example.

  He swung her to his shoulders. “Hold on tight,” he said, and then grimaced when she gripped onto handfuls of his hair.

  “Come on, Hope.” He held out a hand. “Let’s go find Mom.”

  She didn’t extend her hand, but her crying settled a little.

  He knelt low enough to take her hand, careful to be gentle. He gave her the slightest of tugs, and she fell into step beside him, her arm extended so that there was as much distance as possible between them.

  When they reentered the party, conversations died down and he realized people were probably wondering why Hayley was on his shoulders. Or maybe that murmur going around the crowd had to do with how cute the girls were.

  He looked around and spotted Anna, standing beside Yasmin at the women’s shelter table.

  Talking to Rafael.

  The sight jolted him, made him queasy and tense, even though he had no business being jealous.

  He tugged Hope toward the table, without thinking how it would affect her, until she resisted and cried. Remorseful, he knelt and pointed. “Your mommy’s over there.”

  Then it was Hope tugging him toward Anna.

  When they got close, he called, “Anna.” His voice was sharp—he heard it, and so did a lot of the surrounding people. She heard it, too, and looked at him, her face impatient.

  “Your girls need you.” He bit off that sentence lest he say something inflammatory to Rafael.

  Anna gasped and hurried around the table, opening her arms, pulling Hope close.

  Sean lifted Hayley from his shoulders and set her down beside her mother. “Are you sure it was a good idea,” he asked quietly, “leaving the twins with Bitsy Mercer?”

  “What happened?” She was wiping Hope’s tears, her eyes alert, examining the twins for any injuries.

  Mostly, the surrounding conversations had gone back up to normal by now.

  “She’s a little ditzy, that’s all. Not exactly responsible enough to take care of girls like yours.”

  Anna bit her lip, her face troubled. “Hayley. Are you all right? Did anything bad happen?”

  Hayley frowned and leaned into An
na’s side.

  “Hope?” she asked. “Are you all right?”

  Hope just buried her face in Anna’s other side.

  He felt like a jerk, but it was important for Anna to know how upset the girls had been.

  Anna looked up at him, visibly struggling to control herself. “Do you know what happened?”

  “Bitsy pulled up in a big hurry and handed them off to me, even though they were crying.” And it was ridiculous, but he’d gotten scared. Scared she would neglect her children for the sake of a man.

  Like his own mother had done.

  The thought surfaced and was as quickly submerged.

  “Did she even know we were...acquaintances?” Anna’s voice rose in apparent disbelief. “I can’t believe another mother would leave my girls with someone she thought was a stranger.”

  The word acquaintances echoed in Sean’s mind.

  They’d had potential to be so much more. “She said she’d call you and explain,” he forced out through a tight throat, “before she drove off.”

  Anna stood and straightened her shoulders, holding each girl by the hand, and leaned close enough that only he could hear.

  “Thank you for bringing them to me,” she said. “I’m sorry you had to deal with them. It won’t happen again.”

  “Anna...” He searched her eyes for the connection they’d had. But it was gone, and he was the one who’d destroyed it.

  For good reason, and at least partly for the sake of Anna and the twins. “Never mind,” he muttered, and stalked away from the trio and then out of the party.

  * * *

  LATER THAT DAY, when hard work hadn’t quelled the fierce hurt inside him, he got in his truck and headed for town. He needed a drink or six, and he needed not to be alone with his thoughts.

  And not to be on the same acreage as Anna and the twins, who were now back at the Sea Pine Cottages.

  He parked and got out, and saw Rita, the waitress from the diner, coming down the street with tall stoop-shouldered Abel, the cook.

  They entered an old-style souvenir shop and Sean stopped in his tracks as if some larger force were pinning him to the ground.

  He stared after them as his stomach churned.

  He hated that souvenir shop, because it was the last place he’d seen his mother before she’d abandoned him and his brothers. He always avoided it.

  Now, having seen Rita and Abel go inside, he felt oddly compelled to follow them. See what they were doing, what they were talking about.

  But that didn’t make any sense. He was through with getting involved with outsiders and trying to help solve their problems. That kind of behavior got you exactly nowhere. Take Anna’s coldness toward him this afternoon, for example.

  Coldness like yours toward her.

  He forced his feet to move past the shop, past the spot where he’d been reading a novel when he’d last seen his mother.

  He moved faster and faster. By the time he got to the bar three doors down, he was practically running.

  He felt like tearing up the place, breaking windows, doing the kind of vandalism he’d been known for as a teenager. The kind that had gotten him a sentence of doing volunteer community service, building things up rather than tearing them down. Service that had gotten him into the construction field, where he’d done all right for himself.

  Just like back then, he had to stop this racing mind and these crazy impulses. What was wrong with him? He knew he was the product of an unstable mom and a violent, impulsive, abusive father. Was all that stuff finally coming out in him, as Gabby had sometimes theorized?

  It took two shots and two beers before he finally started feeling like himself again. And before he could have one single, rational thought about the events of the day: What had happened at Bitsy’s to upset the twins so much?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  IF YOU’RE GOING to move ahead, you have to do this.

  Rita followed Abel into the little gift shop on Safe Haven’s Main Street. They made a funny pair, both of them in their working clothes, Abel tall and thin and dark, she a roundish redhead. Plus, they were being a little furtive, since they’d sneaked out on a fifteen-minute break.

  “You don’t remember this place at all?” he asked as they walked through the aisles, squeezing past tourists.

  She looked at the tacky souvenirs. “No.”

  He indicated a bin of kids’ toys, alligator heads on sticks, long water guns, pretend light sabers.

  She felt a flicker of something, but she couldn’t tell what. “Nope.”

  They reached the front of the store, where a young cashier looked up from her phone. “Can I help y’all?”

  “We’re just looking around,” Abel said. And then he held up a necklace to her. “Remember this?”

  She studied it and her heart started to pound. “I have that necklace.”

  He nodded as if he already knew it, then shoved a dollar across the counter and took a thin wrapped package from a bin. He opened it and held it out to her. “Ever taste a praline?”

  “It looks good, but no.” They stepped away from the cashier and she touched his arm. “Abel, what’s going on here? What do you know?”

  He studied her. “I’ve been praying about you,” he said. “I met you before. And I don’t want to tell you anything you don’t ask me about.”

  That set her heart to pounding harder. She wanted to ask so much, but was she ready to know the answers? “Why’d I buy that necklace?” she asked. “Why was I in the store?”

  “You didn’t buy it,” he said slowly. “I was working here at the time, and I gave it to you.”

  “Why, Abel?”

  His phone buzzed before he could answer, and he studied the screen. “Jimmy say we’re gettin’ backed up. We better go.”

  She should follow up with her question, but her stomach burned at the thought. Getting back to work sounded like a relief, a bandage over a wound, a return to her everyday reality. “Sure.”

  They left the shop and started toward the restaurant, and then Rita stopped and looked back. The storefront with the bright concrete sidewalk outside, shimmering in the noontime heat—it was like she could see shadows there.

  Abel watched her closely, but he didn’t say anything more.

  They walked the rest of the way back, sharing the praline, which should have been delicious, but instead made her feel slightly nauseous. And she thought about what Abel had said and about the necklace.

  She’d been in that store before, in another life. Abel had given her the necklace she still treasured. Memories seemed to hover just out of reach, tugging at her.

  He hadn’t wanted to tell her. Why not? What did Abel know about her?

  Inside the café, they were swept up into the dinner rush, burgers sizzling, fragrant onions frying, customers waving her down. She was glad for the distraction. Sometimes, she just needed to let things sit for a bit and she could figure out what to do.

  During a little lull, Jimmy touched her arm. “You’re not upset I asked you out?”

  She smiled at him. That, she felt sure about. “Not at all. I hope I’ll have an answer for you soon.”

  Truthfully, Jimmy’s asking her out had propelled her into trying to dig into who she was, to follow up on hints that Abel had dropped.

  But once inside the little store, with Abel looking at her in his quiet way that seemed to see deep inside her, she’d lost her nerve.

  Was it guilt? Had she done something terrible here, in this town, in this store? Or some minor, petty misdemeanor like stealing? But if it were that, why had she been beaten so badly that she’d almost died?

  T-Bone had gotten her emergency hospital care, and then driven her to his home in Maine while she was still half out of it. When she’d recovered enough to think, in a clinic in Maine, she’d been frantic. The sensation of h
aving no idea who she was or what had happened to her had disturbed her continually, day and night. Moreover, she’d had a terrible ache inside, independent of the physical injuries, that had made her feel like she needed to find something, do something, fix something.

  T-Bone had told her he’d found her on a highway in a remote part of West Virginia. She’d searched the area via GPS and online, made phone calls, but she’d gotten nowhere. There was no legal record of a woman by the side of the road in the whole state. After she’d gotten over her initial fear, she’d befriended a police officer and gotten her to run her prints, both in national and West Virginia databases. But there were no matches.

  After a while, she’d settled into a life with the kind man who’d rescued her. Started to make new friends and build new memories. For weeks at a time, she’d forgotten that she didn’t know the first twenty-some years of her life.

  And then something would remind her: talk of an old TV show or of high school days, women reminiscing about their children’s babyhood or their first dates, questions about whether she’d ever owned a pet or what was her employment record.

  And she’d be right back to the realization that she didn’t know, that the early years of her life were a blank.

  The pain had gotten less each time. Over the years, she’d admitted the truth to a few people, but mostly she kept it to herself. She’d even invented a fictional biography to use with strangers she didn’t want to discuss it all with.

  When T-Bone had finally admitted that he’d found her outside of Safe Haven, South Carolina, she’d been furious. She’d railed against him, drunk too much, complained to Norma.

  But the truth was, T-Bone had been good to her. He’d saved her life, paid for her medical expenses and treated her well.

  His motivation for secrecy hadn’t been all bad. Not knowing anything about her past or how closely she knew whoever might have done this to her, he’d given her a fresh start. He hadn’t owed her anything, and she was grateful to him.

  Jimmy took the coffeepot out of her hands, refilled cups along the counter and then came back to her. “What’s going on?” he asked.

 

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