Only the sound of wooden chairs rocking on the uneven deck breached the answering silence.
“Gracious!” Sadie exclaimed. “It’s not like I am gonna ask you for a liver!”
Caroline laughed nervously.
“It’s just a tiny exercise,” Sadie cajoled. “I want y’all to come up with one happy story about your mama—just one. Let’s take a minute to remember something nice about Flo!”
“The liver would be easier,” Augie declared. She raised her hand with a bit of a smirk. “Want mine?”
Caroline, Savannah and Josh all chuckled. Sadie did not. “Augusta Marie, you are still a hopeless, pain-in-the-behind little girl, eah me!”
Augie persisted. “I guess that means you won’t be wantin’ my liver?”
Sadie glared at her with an expression of righteous indignation. It was a look Caroline knew only too well. It was the you’re-in-trouble-now glower she gave them all without discrimination.
“I’ll start, Mama,” Josh offered, giving Augie a chastising glance as he leaned forward, joining his hands as though to concentrate.
Augie snickered. “Think real hard.”
Caroline lifted her hand to her mouth to stifle a smile.
Peering down defiantly at Augie, Josh lifted a brow. “When I was seven,” he began, nodding in the direction of the pier, “I was out there skipping stones at high tide and Flo came out with two fishing poles, a bucket and a bag of stinkin’ shrimp. She handed me a pole and said, ‘No man under my roof is gonna grow up not knowin’ how to catch trout!’ ”
Sadie’s black eyes glinted. “That was nice. I can eah her now.”
Caroline could picture her mother clearly, her tall, willowy figure marching out onto the pier, fishing poles and bucket in hand, bossy as ever, even when she was trying to be nice.
“Yeah . . . she showed me how to bait the hook and then sat for hours, slappin’ at mosquitoes.” He laughed and shook his head at the memory. “She was happier than I was when I caught the first damned fish.”
“What was it?” Sadie asked.
“Redfish, I think.”
Caroline remembered that day. It wasn’t long before Sammy had disappeared and their lives changed forever. “She made you clean them, too, didn’t she?”
Josh nodded and made a disgusted face.
“Of course,” Sadie said. “If you’re gonna catch ’em, you gotta eat ’em, and you are sure as hell not going to eat ’em unless you clean ’em! You just can’t go ’round killing God’s creatures for nothing, eah!”
The porch lapsed into silence again—an awkward, uncomfortable stretch that made even Sadie stop rocking. Still nobody made any attempt to leave. Like Caroline, they were probably hell-bent on holding on to what was left of the moment and what was likely the last twilight they’d ever spend on this porch together as a family.
When no one else stepped up, Caroline relented. “Okay, my turn.”
“That’s my girl!” Sadie said, and began rocking again, smiling.
“Let’s see . . . I must’ve been seven, too—Mother had the flu. You—” She pointed at Augie, trying to lighten the mood. “And you—” She pointed at Josh. “We were making breakfast to serve her in bed and between the three of us, we demolished it. Sav was in charge of the toast and it was the only thing we didn’t burn.” Caroline smiled at the memory. “Augie poured the entire saltshaker over the eggs I mangled. Then we took it up to her. I knew we’d made a mess of it all and I waited for her to hate it.” Caroline’s eyes stung, but just for an instant. “I’ll be damned if she didn’t eat it with a smile.” For a moment, she basked privately in the memory, and then added for everyone else’s benefit, “She told us all how proud she was.”
In fact, it was the only time she’d ever said those words to Caroline.
Ever.
“I don’t remember that,” Savannah said plaintively.
Inexplicably, instead of joy or warmth, the memory’s aftermath left Caroline with an empty pit in her soul. Sadness filled it with each passing second.
In the distance, the ocean lay like a black velvet blanket creeping up the banks . . . as though God himself were tucking in the earth for the night.
She didn’t know how long they remained lost in that particular reverie as the twilight sky darkened to night. Not a single star shone through the gloom that descended.
While she sat there, the same thought that had been skirting through her consciousness all day returned like a shout in her brain: there would be no more chances to build relationships with her mother. That opportunity was gone forever, stolen by a stupid, untimely slip down the stairs. Regret, like the endless chirping of crickets, was thick in the air.
“Screw this!” Augie declared suddenly, slamming her glass down on the porch. “I’m not gonna sit here and pretend she was something she wasn’t!”
Avoiding eye contact with everyone, including Josh, Augie stood and left the porch, slamming the screen door on her way into the house. The sound of it echoed into the marsh.
Deep in the salt marsh, beyond the point where the tall grass parted, a boat hull protruded from the plough mud, half turned, its sunken mass decomposing into the dark and oozing mud. The remains of innumerable boats littered Folly’s wetlands, oftentimes marooned by the fleeing tide. The wooden skeleton barely drew attention. It sat, decaying and feeding the soil surrounding it, nothing more than a reminder that “this far men should never tread.”
Only creatures that couldn’t wonder about what lay beneath wandered here.
Occasionally, seabirds swooped in to salvage a forgotten scrap, a mud-stained ribbon, a button, or a bit of tattered lace.
Today, a shiny mud-encrusted zipper tab peeked above the muck, teasing the beaks of swooping birds. It wouldn’t budge.
And then the tide rushed in, bringing with it new layers of sediment, swelling the soil with brackish water. Heavy with its burden, the backpack submerged into the mired ground.
Out of sight.
Out of mind.
Chapter Three
T
he scent of bacon teased Caroline into consciousness. She opened one eye to peek at her mother’s alarm clock: seven-thirty
A.M.
The reading of the will was at ten.
Time to time to get up and get dressed.
She supposed the bacon was Sadie’s gentle way of rousing them, and just for a moment, she waxed nostalgic over the memories the scent brought to mind. One thing was certain: mornings in the Aldridge house could be bonding. After Mother had gone to work. Before school. Sundays before church. Lazy summer days. They all began in the kitchen. They had Sadie to thank for that.
Selling the house would be a little like ripping up roots, but that was the inevitable end to it all.
Forcing herself up and out of bed, Caroline found the shorts she’d worn the night before, yanked them on temporarily and grabbed a new T-shirt out of the suitcase she hadn’t bothered unpacking. Sadie had placed her in her mother’s room, but she tried not to attach any symbolism to that fact. She was the eldest and the first to arrive. That’s all. Nor did she intend to brood over what would be lost after today, because, in fact, they didn’t need a house to bring them together.
If it really mattered to them, they would find a way.
Her mother’s photos—all lined up on the dresser—remained a blur as Caroline passed by, opening the bedroom door to find Tango, her mom’s black Lab, lying outside, nose burrowed into the gap beneath the door. “Poor baby!” she exclaimed and stooped to pet him behind the ears. “Miss Mommy?”
In answer, Tango whined, slapping his thick ebony tail against the wooden floor, looking, if possible, even more forlorn. His face showed hints of a white beard and his eyes seemed far too knowing for a dog. They reminded Caroline of a sad old man. “Come on, boy,” she coaxed, standing and patting her leg. “No more pining. Let’s go get bacon!”
Tango dragged himself up, tail wagging, and followed her down the hall. At the top of the stairs, Caroline stopped for a moment, tapping down a loose board with her toe. The oak slat was slightly warped, peeking up from its groove just enough to catch a toe. Flo had probably been medicated, or drunk, or groggy—maybe all three. Slain by a warped floorboard. How unfortunate was that?
She glanced up to study the ceiling. It was slightly discolored, but otherwise undamaged, and she made a mental note to call someone to check the roof for leaks and then headed downstairs into the kitchen. If they were going to sell the house, they would have to make all the necessary repairs—probably lots of them, since apparently, Flo’s attention to detail had deteriorated where the house was concerned.
Really, why should she have cared? In the end, no one had ever bothered to come home. She’d died alone. Caroline only hoped it had happened instantly and her mother hadn’t wakened to feel the yawning emptiness surrounding her. The thought of that brought a lump to her throat.
As expected, everyone was already in the kitchen—the one room in the house that didn’t seem to fit in the old Victorian. For Sadie, Flo had spared no modern convenience and the stainless-steel industrial kitchen was a chef ’s dream.
Sadie stood at her commercial-grade, eight-burner stove, frying eggs while Augie sat at the island, doodling with pen and paper. Savannah sat next to her, leaning on one hand with the toaster positioned in front of her. Already on the island sat a heaping plate of bacon and another piled high with thick buttered toast, but it wasn’t clear from the position of the butter and knife who exactly was doing the buttering—maybe Augusta, except that she seemed too engrossed in her doodles.
Augie peered up when she came in. “Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” she said and went back to scribbling.
“Morning.”
“Sleep okay?” Savannah inquired.
“Fine,” Caroline replied.
Tango settled at Caroline’s feet, peering up at her expectantly, and Caroline wondered if her mother had made plans for the dog. “Sadie, how old is Tango?”
Sadie turned after flipping an egg. “Maybe seven?” She went back to frying up breakfast.
“He misses Mom.”
“Life’s a bitch!” Augie remarked without looking up.
Sadie turned and waved the spatula at her. “Stop it, Augusta, eah! You don’t mean that.”
“Of course not,” Augusta replied, but kept on doodling without looking up, although maybe with a little more urgency.
They all had demons to exorcise, Caroline realized. If the rest of them were feeling even half the ambivalence she was feeling, it was bound to be messing with their heads. She let her sister’s mood go without comment and walked over to kiss Sadie on the cheek. “Thank you, Sadie. You really didn’t have to do any of this.”
Sadie turned her dark-eyed glare on Caroline. “You, too, missy! If you don’t stop it, I’m going to take this spatula to both y’all’s skinny rears, do you eah me?”
Caroline laughed at the meaningless threat. Sadie had never even spanked her own son as far as Caroline could recall. “Where’s Josh?”
“Josh has his own place,” Sadie responded peevishly. “Some things around here
have
changed.” Her tone lightened a little and even veered toward pride. “Anyway, you can’t have a man running for mayor who’s still living with his mama, can you now?”
“No kidding?” Caroline didn’t mean to sound so surprised, but Josh hadn’t even mentioned it. He’d come a long way from the skinny brat who’d hidden crickets in her bed and let a garden snake under her bathroom door. She snagged a piece of bacon, ripped it in half and tossed a piece to Tango. Tango caught it in midair, gulping without chewing.
“Josh is gonna be The Man!” Augie suggested without a trace of reverence.
Caroline was determined not to rise to Augusta’s bait. “Charleston?”
“No, ma’am!” Sadie nodded and smiled. “James Island—if they win the township appeal. He’s still with the DA’s office for now.”
“When does he have to resign? When he announces his intent to run?”
“That’s right,” Sadie answered pertly.
“That might be a while.”
Since about 1993, James Island had been fighting a legal battle for recognition of township—mostly because its residents hated the mayor of Charleston. After winning a suit in 2006, they had gone back and forth and lost again in 2011. The end result was spotty police protection as some areas were still policed by the City of Charleston, while others by the county and others barely at all.
Munching on her piece of stolen bacon, Caroline wandered to the fridge, where her mother’s grocery list was posted.
Napkins, dog food, tomatoes
. . . She reached out to snatch the list out from under the Piggly Wiggly magnet and made a mental note to buy more dog food. She’d be here long enough for that, at least, and she might even consider taking Tango back to Dallas—if Sadie didn’t want him and if Flo hadn’t already made arrangements for him. “I don’t suppose she needs this any longer.”
They all knew who “she” was.
Sadie glanced over her shoulder, her dark eyes melancholy, and then returned her attention to the eggs without a word.
Both Savannah and Augusta watched as Caroline crumpled the grocery list and tossed it into the trash.
Caroline drove her mother’s vintage Town Car into the city.
Although she’d practically had to force Augie to get in while Savannah kidnapped her cell phone to keep her from calling a cab, so far Augie hadn’t complained even though the Monday morning traffic was unusually bad. Caroline hadn’t taken her foot off the brakes for at least twenty minutes. Ahead, a battalion of police cars was slowing everything down.
Seated in the passenger seat, Augusta craned her neck out the window, trying to get a better perspective as they wended their way through King Street traffic. “Jesus! It looks like they’re at Daniel’s!”
“Why the hell does he keep his office in this part of town anyway ?” Savannah asked from the backseat.
Augie turned to glower at her. “Maybe he feels he can help folks best by staying put—doesn’t he still do pro bono work?”
“Yes,” Sadie interjected, eyeing Augusta with some exasperation. “But your sister’s right. That man’s fool-headed to keep his office up here. Anyway, seems to me you would fare so much better in life, Augusta, if you stopped picking up every torch you found layin’ ’round, eah!”
Caroline braced herself for the full brunt of Augie’s wrath, but apparently Sadie was still the only person who could speak to her sister that way and get away with it. Caroline wasn’t brave enough to do it any longer and Savannah seemed beleaguered enough defending herself.
As they neared Daniel’s law firm and could finally see past the throng of passersby, Caroline spotted Josh standing outside the doorway, talking with a few of CPD’s finest.
Augusta stared curiously as they drove past while Caroline searched for a parking space. “They
are
at Daniel’s. . . .”
Sadie sounded worried. “I wonder why.”
This part of King Street had yet to benefit completely from the new influx of tax dollars. Not far ahead, beyond Marion Square, the lower streets had been mostly renovated, but this part of town still had some boarded-up windows and metal bars on businesses. Although there were a few trendy restaurants making a go of it, the homeless walked around talking to themselves and kids not much older than nine stood smoking on street corners. The closer you got to Marion Square, the better the neighborhood.
They found a parking spot about a block up the street, where a scruffy teenager stood leaning against a telephone pole, sizing up their rims. Caroline tried not to pay him any mind. She took care of the meter and together they walked back to Daniel’s office, where Josh was still standing outside the doorway. He motioned them inside, where Daniel’s partner, George, greeted them.
Sadie’s expression was full of dread. “What on Earth happened eah?”
“Break-in,” George replied. “Maybe kids.”
Caroline remembered the teenager leaning on the telephone pole.
“Danny came in at four this morning because the alarm went off. Seems they hit him over the head with a bat, nearly cracked his skull. Luckily, they smacked him with the skinny end. They found the broken bat lying next to him on the floor.”
“Oh, no!” Sadie exclaimed. “Is he okay? Where is he now?”
“St. Francis. Banged up and lucky as hell, but mostly fine.”
Sadie’s hand went to her breast. “Thank the Lord!”
“You can visit him later,” George suggested with a wink. “He’d like that.”
Caroline wasn’t sure, but she thought Sadie ducked her head and blushed.
“We can reschedule,” Caroline told George. She looked at Augie, raising her brows, telling her without words to say nothing.
“Not necessary,” he said. “I’d already offered to walk you girls through your mother’s will. It’s pretty straightforward. So come on back,” he directed. “We’re set to go soon as Mr. Childres comes back. Sorry about your mother,” he offered to the girls, and added, “The funeral was real nice.”
“We appreciate your coming,” Caroline offered.
They passed Daniel’s office, where papers were scattered all over the floor and bookshelves were toppled.
“Wow, it’s trashed!” Savannah remarked.
George nodded and turned to wink at her. “Good thing he left the will nice and neat in my office last night before heading home.”
Once in George’s office, they lapsed into silence, watching him rifle through and organize heaps of papers sitting on his desk. Every once in a while, he peered over his bifocals at them and offered an awkward smile.
She knew George only in passing, but Daniel Greene was practically a member of their family. He handled legal business for the
Tribune
as well as Flo’s personal affairs. Throughout their childhood, he had come by the house nearly every Saturday morning for Sadie’s pancakes, and then he and Flo would disappear into her office. Sometimes George would tag along.
“Sorry,” Josh said as he came in and leaned against the far wall, ignoring the remaining seat.
“Ready?” George asked, turning to Caroline.
“Ready as we’re gonna be.”
“Alrighty, then.” George cleared his throat and stood. He walked around his desk and sat on the edge of it, facing them, his expression sober. “How long have we known each other?”
When nobody seemed inclined to answer, Caroline said, “Long time.”
George nodded. “That’s right. Long time and it’s been a shitty morning, so if you girls don’t mind, let’s make this easy on everyone and skip the formalities. We can take care of particulars later.”
Augusta was quick to chime in. “I’m all for that!”
Caroline nodded.
So did Savannah.
“Then let’s get on with it,” he said and began rifling through the stack of papers he held. He cleared his throat again. “ ‘Item four,’ ” he said, peering over his bifocals at Josh and reciting from rote, “ ‘To Josh Childres, I leave the Legare Street house that once belonged to my husband’s family. . . .’ ”
“Jesus!” Josh exclaimed, sounding surprised.
“She was a generous woman,” George acknowledged and then continued. “I’ll skip the legalese here. Read it for yourselves later if you’re so inclined.” He looked toward Sadie. “ ‘Item five: To Sadie Childres, I leave the gatehouse, its immediate surrounding property . . .
“ ‘Item six: Also to Sadie, I leave a three-percent share of the
Tribune
and a seat on the board . . . along with my eternal love and gratitude for all the years she served, not only my family, but me, as my dearest friend.’ ”
Sadie choked back a sob.
Caroline couldn’t look at her. The tears she couldn’t seem to shed at the funeral stung her eyes like angry bees.
“So on, so forth . . . ‘Item seven: Also to Sadie, I leave an annual stipend of two hundred fifty thousand dollars to be paid in monthly installments as long as she shall live.’ ”