Read Lessons of a Lowcountry Summer Online
Authors: Rochelle Alers
Lessons of a Lowcountry Summer (22 page)
Ashlee and Kyle looked at each other and smiled.
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Your air inhaling what you exhale I'd like to be that.
âJames Laughlin
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L
ee's arrival signaled the end
of what had become a relaxed and festive gathering. New friendships had been forged between Ashlee and Kyle and the Anderson children; the outing had also changed Hope, because she had decided it was useless to fight her growing feelings for Theo.
She stood on the porch watching and waving as he backed out of the driveway. Helen lowered her window and returned her wave. The red taillights disappeared, and Hope backpedaled to the rocker, falling onto its cushioned softness. Exhaustion descended on her like a comforting blanket, and, closing her eyes, she fell asleep.
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The soft patter
of a rain shower washing the earth with its cooling, clean scent woke Hope. She peered at the dark sky, unable to discern whether it was day or night. She pushed off the rocker, went into the house, undressed, lay across her bed and went back to sleep.
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Hope woke up
totally disoriented but rested. Forcing herself to leave the bed, she walked to the bathroom to shower and brush her teeth.
The lukewarm water revived her, and as she moisturized her body and pulled on an oversized T-shirt and shorts her travel clock chimed the hour. It was already one in the afternoon. Fortifying herself with a cup of tea and a bowl of sliced peaches, watermelon, and green grapes, she settled down in the office/bedroom to read her e-mail. As soon as she signed on she remembered that she hadn't read Theo's e-mail. She perused her new mail: one from Lana, two from Marissa, one from Bill, and two from Theo.
She read Lana's first:
Jonathan and I decided we're going to try to have a baby. I know you think we're crazy to have changed our minds, but after talking to you about your endometriosis I decided to take the same advice I gave you. We been screwing like rabbits. All I can say is baby-making is big fun!
“All I can say is that you're crazy, girlfriend,” she said as she reread her friend's message.
Hope then clicked on the first of her sister's messages:
Big Sis, I had the worst fight with Trey when my acceptance letter from Fairleigh Dickinson arrived the other day. The man went buck wild! If he'd been smoking that crack shât, then I could've understood his reaction, but you know he won't touch drugs. So, I let him rave and rant about his ability to take care of his family until I got sick and tired of him beating his gums, then I leaned in real close and told him I was going to take my kids and stay with Mama and Daddy until he learned to respect my decisions. I called Junior and had him pick me up with the twins. When Trey saw Junior he knew he was going to get a serious beat-down if he said another word. He just stood there looking crushed and pitiful. The twins took drama to another level
when they held onto Trey's legs, screaming that they wanted to stay with their daddy. Of course the neighbors came out of their homes to see what was going on, so I had to put a cussin' on them, too. Miss Ruby sucked her teeth so hard that her dentures slipped out and fell in the bushes. Junior and the twins laughed so hard they couldn't stand up. Even Trey was laughing. However, that did not change anything, because I'm now at Mama's. If you need to contact me in an emergency, then call me on my cell. Hugs, Lil Sis
Hope clicked on Marissa's second message:
I didn't know that Mama and Daddy had planned to spend a few days in Atlantic City before heading down to Cape May for a week. I will be here at least until they return. Trey came by and tried to talk me into coming back home. I wouldn't even open the door. Once the clown realizes I'm serious about going back to school, then we'll talk. Smooches, Lil Sis
Hope shook her head. Marissa and Trey had more drama in their lives than a daytime soap opera. She would call her sister later that evening.
She clicked on Bill's message:
Printed out your chapter introductions. Love what you've done with them. Let me know your tentative completion date. Would like to project a late spring publication. Hope you are enjoying yourself. Bill
Theo's was next:
Your air inhaling what you exhale I'd like to be that.
âJames Laughlin.
Her smile was dazzling. That was why he'd kissed her on the beach.
She clicked again:
I lie here thinking of you.
âWilliam Carlos Williams
Hope swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. It was taking only two lines of poetry to strip away the last barrier she had erected to keep a man out of her life.
She returned his e-mails with the only line of poetry she could remember:
A sad sort of rain today, and I inside alone.
âMargaret Newlin
The next ten minutes were spent typing replies to Lana and Bill. She typed three words to Marissa:
I'll call you.
Before she signed off, an instant message appeared on the upper-left-hand screen. It was from Theo:
Flickwriter: One day I wrote her name upon the strand, but came the waves and washed it away.
âEdmund Spenser
Hope stared at what he'd typed. Was he reminding her of the day when he would leave McKinnon to return to California? Her fingers were poised on the keys.
HelpDoc: We must enjoy what we have now before the
  end of the summer.
Flickwriter: What do we have now, Hope?
HelpDoc: Friendship.
Flickwriter: Friendship is ok. Butâ¦
HelpDoc: You want more than friendship?
Flickwriter:
She smiled.
HelpDoc: What do you want?
Flickwriter: I'd have to show you.
HelpDoc: Will I like it?
Flickwriter: I'm hoping you will. I know I will like it.
HelpDoc: Show me, Theo.
Flickwriter: I'll see you around six. Bye.
HelpDoc: Bye.
She logged off and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she knew she was ready. Ready for Theo and what each would offer the other before summer's end.
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The cowbell clanged,
bringing Hope to the door. Theo stood on the other side of the screen door, grasping the handles to a picnic basket in his left hand. Instead of his customary white, he wore a long-sleeved navy blue T-shirt with a pair of jeans and running shoes. His clean-shaven jaw and close-cut hair indicated he had recently visited a barber.
Turning the latch, she opened the door. “Please come in.”
Theo shook his head. “No. Please come out. We're going to picnic out here.”
“But⦠it's raining.”
His eyes crinkled in a smile. “It's been raining all day. We will picnic on your porch.”
A steady falling rain, one hundred percent humidity, and a haze had blanketed McKinnon Island. It was on days like this that everyone and everything appeared to move in slow motion.
“Let me put on shoes and I'll be right back.” She returned to her bedroom and slipped her bare feet into a pair of black ballet-type slippers. She'd dressed for the damp weather: a loose-fitting, off-white cotton sweater over a pair of black leggings.
She returned to the porch to find Theo setting the small bistro table, reminiscent of those found in ice cream parlors, with china, silver, and stemware. “Would you like help?”
He glanced up. “No, thank you. Just sit down and relax.”
She sat on one of the two chairs at the table, watching him empty the basket. Small containers labeled with their contents crowded every available space. She smiled when he set out two votive candles and lit them.
“A little ambience,” he said in a quiet voice.
What Theo did not know was that he was all the ambience Hope needed. There was something about him that was calming and soothing. With him she did not have to pretend she was other than who she was. She wondered whether those he interacted with in California saw the same Theo Howell she had come to know on McKinnon Island, South Carolina, or an entirely different person who had learned to play the Tinseltown game so well that he was able to hide his true self.
She smiled up at him. “Would you mind if I add to the ambience?”
The light from the flickering candles flattered his dark, sun-browned face. “Not at all.”
Rising, she went over to the radio sitting atop the table between the rocker and chaise, and turned it on. The sound of light music filled the air. Theo went completely still as she closed the distance between them, his gaze following her every motion.
“Nice,” he whispered close to her ear. Curving an arm around her waist, he pulled out a chair and seated her.
Hope mumbled a soft thank you and smiled. She wasn't disappointed when he returned it with a sensual one of his own. He sat opposite her, opening the lids to containers filled with shrimp and pasta salad, guacamole and tortilla chips, cole slaw, deviled eggs with capers, and a bottle of chilled champagne.
“Very nice.”
He inclined his head. “Thank you.” He deftly popped the cork on the bottle of champagne, filled the glasses, then handed her one.
Hope raised her flute. “To McKinnon Island.”
Theo shook his head. “No, Hope. We toasted McKinnon already. This one is to us.”
She touched her flute to his. “To us,” she repeated before taking a small sip. The champagne was excellent. “Very nice.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “I'm glad you approve.”
Her expression changed, becoming sober. “Did you do all this,” she waved her hand over the table, “to get my approval?”
Theo lowered his glass and glared at her. “No. Why must you analyze everything? Can't you just accept things for what they are?”
Hope gave him a long, penetrating look, then nodded. “You're right, Theo. There are times when I don't know how to separate Hope from Dr. Hope.”
“Shouldn't it be easier for you here than in New York?”
“It should, but sometimes it isn't.”
“Why?”
Hope stared down at her plate with unseeing eyes. “Because when I'm Dr. Hope I have all the answers. But as Hope⦔ Her words trailed off.
