“Florida may have saved us.”
“Your mouth, God’s ears, right?”
“Yeah.”
He unlocked his car and it beeped loudly. Then he stood there for a moment just looking at her.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said.
“Yeah, sure,” she said, smiling.
“Whatever,” he said.
In that exchange, a romance was born that would possibly, maybe, might lead to something more serious or not. But they were willing to give it a try after certain details were ironed out which had yet to be discussed, namely, Max Mitchell. And their deceit.
“Get some sleep,” he said.
Despite the sorrow of the family, the sun rose the next morning with the promise of a beautiful South Carolina day. The weather did not match their mood.
They were unusually quiet as they went about the business of breakfast, and dressing and gathering into their cars to return to the funeral home. There they would transfer to limousines and form a procession behind the hearse that held the remains of Sophie Hamilton.
They were solemn as the funeral director ushered them into each car, and in a moment of kindness, Susan asked Woody to ride with them. Simon, Henry, and Teensy were in the car as well. As they pulled away from the curb, Susan spoke.
“Beth? There is no good time to talk about this, but since Uncle Henry is going back to Atlanta tomorrow, we might as well do this now.”
Beth was caught off guard, but actually she knew the hammer was coming so she took a deep breath. She looked at Woody, who nodded, letting her know he was ready to defend her.
“My trust account, right?”
“Yes.”
“Momma, I am so sorry, you have no idea.”
“I am assuming you thought you had legitimate reasons, am I right?”
“Of course. But can we talk about the details when we get home?”
“It doesn’t matter now, Beth. Things are as they are. How could you deceive us like that?”
“I was in love with him.”
“Love? Beth, this was a very serious breach of trust between us, you know.”
“Oh, Momma? But what can I do now?”
“Nothing, except work hard to regain our trust, Beth.”
“Mrs. Rifkin?” Woody said.
Susan was so unaccustomed to being referred to as anything except Susan that she was startled.
“Max Mitchell was the most impressive charlatan I have ever met. He had me completely fooled and I am pretty good at assessing risk.”
“You’re the finest judge of character I have ever met, young man, which is why I am not firing you. But if anything like this ever happens again, you find me and tell me what’s happening, okay? I don’t care where I am on the planet,” Henry said.
“Yes sir. Thank you, sir.”
“Beth?” Henry said. “Your Aunt Sophie had a will and I am the executor of her estate.”
“She did?”
“Yes. A sizable one, but then you know she was a very wealthy woman. She even had more money than I do, it seems.”
“Oh, get on with it, Henry,” Susan said. “The contest is over.”
“Well, Beth, your Aunt Sophie had enough assets to bail you out of your hole and still leave an additional two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to you and all her other nieces and nephews.”
“Oh! My goodness! Is this a good thing? I mean, who’s going to pay for Aunt Allison’s care?”
“Well, that’s a very good question, and it’s especially nice that this is your first concern. The ability to maintain their business is completely truncated by this tragedy. Allison and Sophie had excellent health care, as you would expect. But we don’t know how long Allison will be hospitalized. So there are many unknowns about how to place a value on what they own, and many questions remain about how or why we should dispose of certain parts of it. There are all the studios, their house, their art collection, and Sophie’s personal effects, which she also wanted you to have.”
“Gosh.”
Beth didn’t know what to think. It was obviously complicated and beyond the experience of her years.
“What are you thinking, Beth?”
“I’m thinking that I’d rather have my Aunt Sophie back than all the money in the world.”
“And that is precisely why we are not going to kill you, sweetheart. You made a very dumb mistake, and someday, like first thing tomorrow, you can tell me why. But today, it doesn’t matter. We are all together again and eventually everything’s going to be all right.”
The funeral procession crossed the Ben Sawyer Bridge and Beth could not help but notice again that the colors were brighter and the edges of every house and leaf and the wings of all the birds were sharper and more clear than they were in Mount Pleasant, and not because her tears had washed her eyes clean. The island was putting on her Sunday best to honor one of its daughters, Sophie Hamilton. And also because the island wanted Beth and every single one of her family, indeed every single other resident and visitor, to appreciate it for all that it was and, perhaps more important, what it was not. The island was not slick and shiny, nor subject to the fads of the day. No. It truly was the land of their ancestors where their spirits still walked. Sullivans Island welcomed them and watched over them all with a mindful eye and a loving heart, one as real, as grand, and as all-encompassing as your imagination could ever be.
EPILOGUE
THE DAY AFTER the funeral, the family began to disperse. Timmy and his family to Charlotte, Henry and his to Atlanta. Only Maggie, Grant, Simon, and Woody remained.
Woody was reluctant to leave Beth, worried about how she would fare explaining herself to her mother and the others, but by five-thirty in the afternoon they said their goodbyes.
“You’ll come back, I hope?” Beth said, her hands resting on the side of his opened car window.
He reached over and covered her hand with his. “Of course I will. As fast as I can. In fact—and I never thought I’d say this—I’m sort of afraid to leave.”
“Afraid? Why?”
“I don’t know. I might miss something? In any case, this place has some kind of a magnetic pull on you.”
“Oh, just a little one, about the size of the moon.”
“Maybe it’s not just the place…”
Beth smiled at him. Life would never be the same again for either of them.
“Oh, Woody, what would I have done without you?”
“Let’s hope we don’t have to worry about that for at least a hundred years or so.”
“Woody!”
“What?”
Beth sighed hard, smiled wide, arched her eyebrow, and said, “I’m thinking that sounds like an excellent plan, Mr. Morrison.”
“Good, Miss Hayes. I’ll call you tonight.”
“Drive safely, for Pete’s sake, will you? I don’t think we could bear any more drama.”
“Don’t worry.”
He blew her a kiss and she blew one back to him.
Beth stood watching him back away from her house while Cecily watched from the kitchen window with Susan.
“He’s a really wonderful guy,” Cecily said.
“Yeah, I mean, given all the dynamics and the circumstances of the last ten days, he surely behaved like a thoroughbred, didn’t he? Amazing.”
“Yes. Yes, he did.”
“I hope she doesn’t rush into anything with him.”
“I don’t think we have to worry about her rushing into anything with anyone ever again.”
“Yeah. Just the geographic separation will help slow the pace of things.”
Maggie had wandered into the room with the morning paper.
“What are y’all talking about? What’d I miss?”
“We’re just talking about Woody and what a fine young man he is.”
“Honey? That boy’s a dreamboat, and if Beth has a brain in her head, she’s not letting him get away.”
“I don’t think she will,” Cecily said.
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“Yeah. That fish is on the hook,” Susan said, and arched her eyebrow at them.
“Y’all wanna see something? Look ’eah.”
Maggie spread the newspaper across the kitchen table to show them a picture of Max Mitchell. Then she sat a framed photograph of Beth’s deceased father Tom right next to it.
“Y’all see what I see?”
“Great jumping Jehosophat! He’s…he’s the spitting image of Tom! Max could be his little brother!”
“My goodness!” Cecily said. “Let me see that again?”
“Timmy pointed it out to me. Sorry to say, I can’t take the credit.”
“What did he say?” Susan asked.
“Just what you’d think Uncle Sigmund would say. Honey? That crook Max was nothing but a substitute daddy for her. But Timmy did say that somebody had better help her see that or it could play itself out over and over again. And heaven knows we don’t need that!”
Cecily looked at Susan and said, “Lawsa. Well, if that’s true, there’s no one who can have that conversation with her except you.”
“There are quite a few things we need to talk about. I’ll add this to the list.”
“Ssssh! She’s coming,” Cecily said.
Beth opened the screen door and came into the kitchen, where her mother, her aunt, and her friend stood in silence. She knew they had been talking about her.
“What’s going on?” Beth said. “Has the jury reached a verdict?”
“Darlin’? Don’t be so cynical,” Maggie said. “It causes wrinkles. And you know we love you. Nobody’s judging you. Now, I don’t think I would’ve done the same—”
“Maggie! You old woman! Can’t you remember what it was like to fall head over heels in love?”
“It’s been a while, I’ll admit.”
“I can,” Cecily said. “I’ve met a man. His name is Niles. Isn’t that the most beautiful name in the world? I can’t stop thinking about him morning, noon, and night. It’s like love put a spell on me. No, not a regular spell, but a cunja spell! Niles! I’m about to lose my mind. I’m not kidding, y’all. I mean, when I wake up his name is on my lips. Just last night when he brought me home, I ran and got my pillowcase and rubbed it on his neck. I know he thought I was crazy, but I wanted to smell him all night. And he just laughed when I told him why and he said no one had ever done that before. I’m going to marry him and he knows it.”
Maggie stared at her, dumbfounded. She had never heard Cecily talk about her private life beyond remembering Livvie. Susan and Beth burst into giggles and threw their arms around Cecily, saying, You’d better watch yourself! Be careful! You’d better find out all about him! What does he do for a living? Is he a good kisser? No more details, please! Who are his people? But the three of them went on, giggling like silly schoolgirls, while Maggie stood on the sidelines, still paralyzed in amazement. Cecily had a deeply important romance in full swing and she never suspected it at all. But then why would she?
“How does he know?” Maggie said
“Because we just know it. Isn’t that crazy?”
“Don’t ask me,” Beth said. “I’m no longer qualified to judge anything when it comes to love.”
“Oh yeah?” Cecily said, laughing. “What about Woody?”
“Woody? He’s completely different!”
“That’s the first sign that you’re falling, shugah,” Maggie said. “And you could do a whole lot worse than Woody.”
“I have done a whole lot worse than Woody, y’all might recall?” She hooked her thumb in the direction of the newspaper. “What’s Daddy’s picture doing here?”
“Doodle? Why don’t you come take a walk with me on the beach? It’s low tide and the beach is almost empty.”
“Why not? Should I bring Lola?”
“Sure. It’s almost six.”
“I’ll go throw on some shorts,” Beth said, and picked up her father’s picture to take it back to her room.
She ran to her room to change, smelling lemons as she passed by the living room and just a trace of her father’s cologne when she reached the hallway outside her door.
“So bizarre,” she said.
Beth’s bedroom was neat and tidy, and when she replaced the frame where it lived on her bedside table, the room seemed complete. She changed, pulled her hair up into a messy bun, and raced down the steps.
“I’m out here with the baby!” Susan called from the porch. “Ready, miss?”
“Yep, let’s go.”
“Y’all get back before too long, okay?” Maggie called out. “Cecily and I are frying fish and Grant likes his dinner before eight!”
“Okay!”
They crossed the dunes together. Beth knew her mother was going to give her a lecture about Max Mitchell and that was fine with her. But she felt sick in her heart knowing that the second part of that lecture was going to be about trust.
They walked for a while in relative silence, mentioning Lola’s remarkable sense of smell and how beautiful their beach was to them.
“Some people prefer Hawaii,” Susan said.
“Well, it’s supposed to be incredible,” Beth said. “But that’s a long way to go for a swim, isn’t it?”
“I think so. This beach is plenty for me.”
“Me too.”
Silence again and Beth could feel her mother’s disappointment swelling. Apparently she was having trouble deciding where to begin. Beth thought then that she would help her by bringing it up herself.
“I know you are very upset with me, Mom, and I don’t blame you.”
“That’s putting it mildly, Beth.”
“I’m sure. What can I do?”
“You can start by helping me understand what in the world was going on in your mind.”
Susan stopped and handed Lola’s leash to Beth, and even though it was done politely, it was as though she was renouncing some of her affection for her dog too.
“My head? To be perfectly honest, Mom, it was more about my heart. I met Max and it was like, boom! That was it. I was out of my mind in love with him from square one. If he had asked me to jump off a building, I probably would have believed that he had my best interest at heart.”
Susan searched Beth’s face and she knew that her young daughter, her beautiful daughter, the person she cherished above all others, was being completely honest with her.
“Good grief. How in the world did this happen to you? I mean, you’ve never stolen a thing in your life and along comes this guy, Max. Inside of just a few weeks, you commit fraud? Do you see why I am having a problem understanding this?”
“Yeah, of course. Mom. I’m having a problem understanding this. I’m so ashamed of myself I could die.”
“Well, don’t die. We’ve had enough of that to last us for another decade at least.”
“That’s for sure.”
“Look, Beth, your Uncle Timmy has this crazy idea that might not be so crazy after all.”
“What?”
“Well, I don’t know if you noticed this or not, but there is a really frightening resemblance between your father and Max. They could be brothers! Uncle Timmy thinks that in some way you might have fallen into this whole mess because of it. When I heard that—”
“Who did he tell this to?”
“Aunt Maggie.”
“Oh great.”
“Don’t worry about her right now. What I’m trying to say is that it left me to wonder that if Timmy’s right, how much grieving is still going on in your heart? And if you’re still grieving for your father, why don’t I know this? I mean, I am closer to you than anyone I have ever known. Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
“Mom? Did you ever get over the death of your father?”
They were stopped then, facing each other in the strong breeze that was coming in from the east.
“That’s an interesting question, because Tom was the complete opposite of my father. I think I came to accept both deaths, over time. My father’s death was a terrible s
hock to the family, you know. And, we knew Tom was dying, so it was very different. But my mother didn’t. She cried every single day for the rest of her life.”
“Even though she got married again?”
“Yep.”
“Well, that explains all the havoc in her old room, I guess. But still, you had three sisters, two brothers, and Livvie to help you handle it. Who did I have?”
“You had me and Aunt Maggie and our whole family.”
“No, I really didn’t. Everyone thought that Daddy got the punishment he deserved and y’all were divorced by then. Remember?”
“Of course I remember. But even if they thought it, no one ever said that in front of you. No one.”
“Maybe. Look, your ex-husband was dying. It was my father who was dying.”
“And you think no one gave you the support you needed.”
“That’s right, Mom. You all hung me out to dry.”
“Oh my God, Beth. It might have seemed like we did. But I certainly never meant to make you feel that way. You should know that.”
“I do know that, but it’s really hard to get past the things like there’s not a picture of him in the house except the one I have.”
“I didn’t want to make Simon feel awkward, honey.”
“Whatever. And no one ever talks about him except to say something terrible.”
“Look, Beth, he was their brother-in-law who ran around on me and that’s the truth. It would be completely weird and crazy for the family to go around singing his praises.”
“But he was my father. Look, I think about Daddy every single day and I pray for him every single night. I feel like I’m all alone in remembering him.”
“Oh, Beth. I think about him all the time! I was dead in love with him! Without him there would be no you!”
“True. Guess what? I can smell his cologne all the time.”
“You can?”
“Yeah. Especially upstairs.”
“He’s just checking on you.”
“I guess. And every time I hear somebody say something terrible about him, like Aunt Allison did before you left for Paris? I want to run away and cry my eyes out. I mean, who’s going to walk me down the aisle, that is, if I ever lose my mind and decide to get married?”
“Simon will. Or anyone you want…”