Stargazey Point (42 page)

The children took an extra step back.

“Good. Okay, gentlemen, man your crowbars.”

Abbie readied Joe and the camera, hiding her smile. The first time she’d met Cab, she thought he was a charming huckster. Now she
knew
he was. And a great showman. He’d missed his calling as the ringmaster of a circus, or some other fanciful profession.

The men leaned over the box with their crowbars. Nails screeched as they were pulled through wood, then the men lifted the top and laid it aside, revealing foam packing material, which they carefully removed.

Beneath it lay a mermaid with pale yellow hair that billowed about her face. Her tail was a vibrant green with gold leaf accents. Her body curved gracefully in an elongated ess.

The men lifted her out of the crate, and everyone gasped in delight. Abbie caught Cab’s eye across the heads of the children. He smiled, she smiled, and everything else blurred for just a second.

Then Cab turned away and directed the men as they lifted the mermaid to her slot on the wall. Everyone cheered as she slid perfectly into the cradle that had been prepared for her. Then they just looked in awe at the beautiful creature who smiled down at them.

When Cab turned back to the group, his face was luminous. His eyes sparkled as if his dream had just come true. Abbie thought that it had.

“Madame Mermaid has been restored to her place of honor,” he said, grinning at his visitors. “Now out you go.” He flourished a hand toward the double doors and winked at Abbie.

“Aw, Mr. Cab. We want to see the others.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“Just one?”

“The rest is a secret.” Cab ushered them out the door and locked it behind them. It stayed locked for the next ten days.

Chapter 28

A
bbie didn’t see Millie the next morning, and she wondered if Beau had been too optimistic about her coming around. But there were other things to be optimistic about.

The carousel and the new co-op were nearly finished. The sound of hammering and sawing rang in the air. There seemed to be an army of men on ladders, women sweeping, garbage bags piled on the sidewalk, waiting to be hauled over to the Dumpster that had appeared overnight.

Wanda’s huge person was perched precariously on a stepladder, scrubbing the dirt-caked windows of the new co-op. And in the center of the tarmac, framed by a semicircle of men with paint cans, stood Ivy and Hadley nose to nose. Though Hadley had to stand on his toes to hold his own.

“I ain’t gonna paint,” Hadley told her.

“You are too, you old hunk a junk. You are not going to bring this end of town down after all the hard work everybody’s put into it. If you ain’t gonna help, then move yo’ sorry backside outta the way, ’cause one way or the other, we’re gonna paint.”

“Oh, Ivy, leave the man alone,” said one of the men.

Ivy fisted her hands on her hips. “Albertus Brown. You better not let your wife hear you; you know she’s been workin’ herself half to death gettin’ her afghans finished for the grand opening of the co-op.”

Albertus sighed and slumped, but then he gave in. “Come on, men, let’s get it over with. Sorry, Hadley.”

The men trudged past him while Hadley and Ivy glared at each other. Abbie passed by without slowing down.

The kitchen was already crowded with the publicity committee, mostly older women and a few teenagers, who were tri-folding announcements of the carousel opening to be mailed to nearby towns.

The editing of the documentary was mostly done, so Abbie organized the kids into cleaning squads. She kept busy but was randomly hit with pangs of anxiety.

What if the video was a flop? What if the kids were disappointed? What if Millie stayed angry? Then she’d remember what Beau said about what-ifs and tried to live in the moment.

But as the day wore on, Abbie’s anxiety increased. She hadn’t seen Millie since Sunday afternoon and Beau since Sunday night. She’d hardly talked to Marnie. She felt like an interloper, and it was driving her crazy. It would be better just to find out what was going on.

While the mothers served lunch, Abbie went to the carousel—and found it padlocked, as if Cab and Beau had left for the day. She listened for sounds coming from inside but heard nothing.

A hell of a time to take off,
she thought, and a hundred possibilities crowded her mind. Something had broken and they’d gone for a new part. There was trouble with a zoning issue. Millie had suffered a heart attack.

Each possibility grew worse, and she considered going to Flora’s to see if they had gone there for lunch, but a crash from the media room blew that idea out of her mind. She rushed back to the center and down the hall, wondering if they’d just lost an important piece of equipment, and praying it wasn’t her laptop with Final Cut Pro installed on it.

She reached the door to the media room just in time to see Pauli and Kyle crawling out from under the folding table they used for drawing.

“The legs collapsed,” Pauli said.

“ ’Cause you didn’t listen.”

“ ’Cause they ain’t no good.”

“As long as you weren’t hurt,” Abbie said, stepping between them. “Now help me put the table back.”

When she left the center that night, she heard men working at the carousel. That must mean that whatever happened must have been dealt with. She didn’t stop. Even though she wished Beau would go with her, she knew he had more important things to do. And since it was Marnie’s night out, that left Abbie to face Millie on her own.

As she reached Crispin House, the front door swung open. Millie came out and blocked the door. Abbie’s stomach went south.

She climbed the steps ready to face the music.

As she reached the top, Millie motioned to her with both hands. “There you are. I’ve been waiting.”

“Not to worry, I’ll pack now and be out in half an hour.”

Millie gasped in an intake of air. “Leaving? What are you talking about? You’ll do no such thing. We have too much to do for you to go gallivantin’ about.”

“What?”

Marnie stepped into the light and made a face over Millie’s shoulder.

“Well, come on in,” Millie said and took Abbie by the arm. “Time’s a-wastin’.”

Abbie only had time enough to glance at Marnie as she was propelled forward.

Marnie cast her eyes toward heaven and followed them across the foyer to the parlor.

Millie stopped at an escritoire covered with catalogs and paper of various sizes. “I know it’s going to be a public day, but we need to send formal invitations to certain members of the community. I’m leaning toward the oyster shell myself. Marnie likes the blue. What is your opinion?”

“Uh, oyster?”

Millie shot a triumphant look at her sister. “Now I need to order the tablecloths tonight from the Party Rental place. Plastic, I’m afraid, but it can’t be helped. Beau is insisting on having barbecue out on the lawn. And you know what barbecue does to linen.

“But the poor soul misses Silas’s barbecue so much, I relented, but I told him in no uncertain terms that I would not have barbecue in my ballroom. I’ll have Penny Farlowe do canapés for the ballroom.”

“Very wise,” Abbie said and cast another look toward Marnie, who was hovering at a safe distance in the archway and hiding what Abbie hoped was a grin beneath her hand.

Ballroom. Public day. Had Cab actually asked her to host the viewing? And she’d agreed?

“We’ll put chairs and the projector at one end and still have enough room for people to socialize. Once your little movie is over, I’ll get Otis and Jerome to remove the chairs to give us more room. Not everybody wants to sit elbow to elbow at picnic tables.”

Abbie didn’t know what to say. Except that she must be dreaming. So she just nodded in agreement. Marnie snorted from the doorway. Millie didn’t seem to notice. Two days ago she had stood in the driveway demanding that Abbie leave. Now she was consulting her about tablecloths?

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Didn’t Cabot tell you? Well, isn’t that just like a man. He and Beau dropped by for lunch this afternoon. And he was telling me how you’re cleaning up the community center to show your film.

“I told him not to be ridiculous. After all the work you’ve put in with those kids and the carousel, everybody would want to come and there just isn’t any room down there.”

Abbie nodded, though she bet Millie had never even been in the community center.

“I told him just to plan to have the festivities at Crispin House. Our family has always supported the endeavors of the community. This is no exception. Now, I’d better telephone to Myrtle Beach and order those tablecloths. I think a dozen of the large rectangular ones should suffice. You had better make a list of equipment and things you’ll need and let Otis know so he can pick everything up.”

She took her catalog and tottered into the hallway where the telephone sat in an alcove behind the staircase.

Marnie stepped aside and watched her go. “Damn, that was a sight.”

“I’m having a little trouble processing all this. What are you doing here?”

“Hell, I called in sick tonight just to see your face when you encountered the new and improved Millie.”

“Want to fill me in?”

“Sure, but come on back to the kitchen. I think we both need a glass of something stronger than sherry.”

I
t was a sight to behold,” Marnie said, over a double scotch. Abbie was sipping a white wine spritzer. She wanted to be on her toes in case the wind shifted.

Marnie burst out laughing. “A public day. I swear we’ve never had a public day in our lives. I think she must have gotten it out of an old movie.”

“I can’t believe it. She acts like nothing ever happened.”

“To her, nothing did. Thanks to Beau’s painting and the buyer from Charleston.”

“She accepted the money?”

“Never saw a genteel lady move so fast. Did he tell you he got paid a bundle?”

“He said it was enough to pay the taxes and give some to Millie for pin money.”

“Which reminds me, I can pay you and Celeste back.”

“Forget that for now. Tell me how it all happened.”

Marnie poured herself another scotch.

“Beau calls this morning and tells me to tell Millie that he and Cab are coming for lunch. So I haul my butt up to her room and yell through the door. All I had to say was Cab was coming to lunch, and open sesame, she’s brushing past me and headed for the kitchen.

“She called Wilson over at the market and had him deliver shrimp. I’m surprised he didn’t keel over from surprise on the spot.” She looked over the rim of her glass.

“So they get here, and Cab’s slathering on the charm and Beau’s looking shifty and I know something’s up, so I just sit back and watch.

“We’re on our way in to lunch, like it was Sunday, and I see Beau slip something into Millie’s hand. Her eyes grow the size of salad plates, then she quietly slips it into her dress pocket.

“So they all sit down to lunch and I start serving. Thank God she didn’t have time to get Ervina to come over. She would have sat down next to us and laughed herself silly to witness the goings-on in that room.

“Cab flirted outrageously, extolled the virtues of Millie’s shrimp gumbo, and told her how her abilities as a hostess were wasted. I swear that boy could sell snake oil. And then he asked if she would please host the first Annual Stargazey Carousel Picnic.

“She didn’t have a chance. She’d agreed before she realized that it meant having a barbecue on the grounds and showing the video you and the children made in the ballroom. He made moon eyes at her until I thought I’d burst a gusset from trying not to laugh. He was incorrigible.

“Once he told her he’d pay for everything, there was no going back. Because then she got to say she wouldn’t think of letting him pay, that the Crispins had always supported the ‘endeavors of the community,’ and she would be pleased to continue the tradition. Of course she has no idea how much things will cost, and I’ll have to find a way to curtail her spending, but Cab will pick up whatever goes over budget.”

“Everyone was planning to bring a dish,” Abbie said. “I’m not sure if any of them know how to make canapés.”

“No problem. We’ll say that it is an evening honoring low-country cuisine.”

“So has she forgiven me?”

“Forgiven you? You’ve made her dream come true. At least she sees it that way. You and Cab.” Marnie laughed. “I won’t even tell you what she said about you and Cab.”

“Does it involve cute?”

“Something like that. Oh, don’t look so abashed. She’s already seeing the return of the Crispin dynasty and naming your children. Let her have her fun; it will end soon enough.”

D
uring the next week, Millie was a picture of industry. She consulted Abbie whenever they passed each other, called her cell when she was working, asked her opinion on everything, and posed the same questions at least twenty times apiece.

Hadley’s store had a coat of paint, and Hadley had been heard to say he didn’t know how he’d let things go so long. He was seen every day wearing a not-quite-clean butcher’s apron, washing and scrubbing and throwing out cans of food that had probably expired years before.