On Folly Beach (46 page)

He stretched, then smiled up at her, fully contented. Lulu came up the stairs and sat down on the floor next to the chair, leaning her head against Maggie’s legs as if to make sure that Maggie wasn’t going anywhere.

Maggie watched as the baby’s eyes drifted closed, the warm weight of his body against hers making her feel full like the ocean at high tide. Her heart tightened, remembering Peter’s latest note. I have a plan.

She knew parts of it, of course. They’d been discussing it for months. She’d even written to Aunt Edith asking her to come stay with Cat, saying she was going on a trip and Cat would need help with the baby. She’d also asked Edith to take Lulu back to Galveston with her, promising to come back for Lulu as soon as she could. Without telling Cat, she’d sold the house to Peter so that Cat, as his wife, could claim ownership and always have a home for herself and the baby.

Still, the pain of being separated from Lulu and the baby caused Maggie to hesitate, to question Peter’s sense of urgency. Trust me, he’d said, and she did. She had so many reasons not to, but her heart was blind to all of them. Even the untold secret, the one she’d refused to listen to that awful morning on the porch, did nothing to make her question him. He’d since told her it was too dangerous now for her to know, that he would tell her everything as soon as they were far away and safe. And that they would return for Lulu as quickly as they could.

Maggie secretly guessed he was working on a project for the government, and she felt proud and honored to be under his protection. It was a new and unexpected feeling, having somebody else have all the answers, being sheltered from unpleasant things. She reveled in it, and didn’t push against its boundaries for fear it might break.

In his sleep, the baby opened his mouth, seeking, and Maggie guided his thumb where he greedily latched onto it, the urgent sucking sounding loud in the darkened hallway. Reaching down, she rested her hand on Lulu’s head. “It’s time to go back to bed.”

Lulu nodded sleepily and stood, then waited by the bedroom door as Maggie carried the baby back to his crib, as if afraid that Maggie might not follow her into the bedroom. Maggie would have to tell Peter what Lulu had told her about Cat, and that they needed to be even more careful than before. She knew that the news would only increase his sense of urgency, and shorten the time she’d have with the baby and Lulu, and her heart squeezed again.

Maggie lowered the baby into the crib and tucked his blanket around him, watching him as he slept and sucked his thumb, and wondering if she could have loved him any more if he’d been hers. She stayed there for a long time, listening to the sleeping house and trying to remember back to when her parents were alive and life didn’t require so many compromises.

Lulu yawned, reminding Maggie that they both needed to go back to bed. She placed the backs of her fingers against the baby’s cheek, marveling at the soft roundness, the perfect innocence of his face. “Good night, Johnny,” she whispered before turning back to Lulu and heading into their bedroom, closing the door quietly on the night while the house continued to sleep.

LULU LISTENED AS HER WAGON hit another rock in the road and thudded over it, its worn rubber wheels now scraping metal against the ground. It was loaded with all kinds of tin—from cans and chewing gum wrappers to anything else the housewives she visited could give her and that hadn’t already gone to Sheila McKowskie. Lulu also had a bag of tomatoes from Mrs. Walker’s victory garden. It was the only thing the older woman had learned to grow, and she ended up supplying half of Folly with what she was able to pick before they fell off the vines. Maggie felt sorry for Mrs. Walker, and usually sent Lulu with peas or collards from their own victory garden so it would seem like more of a trade.

It was suppertime, and most of the families were sitting down to eat, so the streets were pretty deserted. She stopped suddenly on the corner of Tenth Street and East Cooper, aware of the man crossing the street two blocks ahead of her. She stayed still in the shadow of a palmetto, looking away so he wouldn’t feel her eyes on him. It was Peter. Even if she hadn’t seen his face, she could tell it was him from the stiff way he walked, like the soldiers she’d seen in the movies at the theater in Charleston, where their neighbor Mrs. McDonald would sometimes take her.

Lulu often went to Mrs. McDonald’s house to collect scrap metal. Mrs. McDonald always gave Lulu a cookie and made her sit down for a while. Mr. McDonald had died before Lulu was born, and Mrs. McDonald’s son was fighting in Europe somewhere. Mrs. McDonald hadn’t heard from him in a long time, and Maggie said that his plane had gone missing over the English Channel. Lulu figured Mrs. McDonald needed company, so she always sat for as long as she could, knowing that sometimes just being in the same room without talking could make you feel better.

When Peter was out of sight, Lulu left the noisy wagon parked on the corner and hurried to see where he was headed. He’d left early that morning, telling Cat that he was off to Washington on business and would be back in a week. So why was he still here?

Sticking to the shady side of the street, she followed about a block behind him until it became clear that he was heading toward the end of East Arctic, where the road and houses had been washed away by the last big storm. Lulu knew at low tide kids drove cars down on the beach there, making it a game not to hit any of the tall wooden pilings of the houses that had once been there. But that was at night. In the daytime not many people went there because of all the stuff still stuck on the beach that made it difficult to lie down on a towel or dig in the sand.

She waited until Peter had disappeared over the dune, then moved forward, ducking down as she approached the top. Spying through tall blades of nutgrass and watching out for sandspurs that could cut her feet, she spotted Maggie sitting on a large rock and staring out to sea. Maggie turned to Peter although Lulu was pretty sure Peter hadn’t said anything at all; then Lulu watched as Maggie’s face began to shine as she ran to Peter and let him hug her and put his mouth on hers.

Lulu ducked, and not just because she was embarrassed but because she’d just realized how close they were to her. She glanced around her and spotted a rotting wooden walkway through which the wind had poked a big hole in the sand beneath it. Lulu figured that if Peter and Maggie turned and started walking toward her, she could crawl toward the hiding place under the walkway, praying the whole time that they wouldn’t look in her direction.

“Margaret, we can’t. Somebody might see.”

Lulu took a chance to peer through the grass again, and watched as Maggie stepped back and put her hands to her sides, yet seemed to lean toward Peter like a sea oat pushed by the wind.

“There’s nobody here.”

“But we can’t take any chances. Especially not now. Not when we’re so close. Not after what you told me about Cat going to your room when you were gone.”

Maggie turned away toward the ocean, her hair blowing into her face. “I know, Peter. It’s just been weeks since we’ve been together, and now you’re going to be gone for a week. I don’t know if I can stand it.”

“You will. This will be the last time, but I have to go. I need to make arrangements for us. And when I return you need to be ready to leave with me.”

“It’s so soon, Peter. What about Johnny? And Lulu? You know Cat can’t take care of them by herself.”

“Cat’s a lot stronger than anybody really realizes—you know that, Margaret. You’ve always known that.”

Maggie looked down. “I know. But it’s not her I’m worried about. It’s the children. Aunt Edith can’t get here for another month.”

“We don’t have another month. Each day that we wait, it gets more and more dangerous for me. For you. For all of us.”

“Peter, tell me. Maybe if I understood the danger, it wouldn’t be so hard to leave. You tried to once, remember? I’m stronger now. I can face anything now because I know that you love me.”

Peter looked past Maggie to the water behind her, squinting his eyes as if he expected to see something. Facing Maggie again, he said, “I know, darling. But for now you’re safer not knowing—and so are the children. I don’t want to put anybody in jeopardy. You just need to trust me a little bit longer, all right? I promise that as soon as we are away from here, I will tell you everything.” He touched Maggie’s cheek with the backs of his fingers, then quickly dropped his hand again, almost as if he knew someone was watching.

“Promise?” she asked, her face sad even though she was smiling.

“Yes,” he said. “We’re good at making promises to each other, aren’t we? You haven’t forgotten yours, have you?”

“No, Peter. Never.” She lifted her chin and the wind blew her hair back from her face. “I will wait for you to come back for me. However long it takes.”

“Good.” He smiled. “And I promise you that as soon as it’s safe, we will come back for Lulu, and to see Johnny. I’ll miss him, too, you know.”

Maggie nodded, even though her eyebrows were wrinkled in the middle like she was frowning to herself. “I’ll talk to Martha about her moving in. With the extra cash you gave me, I think we should have enough to pay her to do that at least until Aunt Edith gets here. And then we should be back in about six months, right?”

He nodded quickly and Lulu wondered who he was trying to convince, Maggie or himself. “Yes. Ask Martha, and if she can’t, then tell her to ask her friends. We can do this, Margaret. Together. But we need to hurry.” He looked down at his wristwatch, then allowed his gaze to swiftly scan the area to make sure they were still alone. Then he put his hands on either side of Maggie’s face and pulled her closer.

“I love you, Margaret O’Shea. I always will.” Their lips touched, but this time Lulu couldn’t look away. Of all the secrets Peter kept and the lies he’d told, Lulu could look at his face and know that this wasn’t one of them.

“Come back for me. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Still holding Maggie’s face close to his, Peter rested his forehead against hers. “I’ll be back a week from Wednesday. Be ready. Leave your suitcases where we discussed. I won’t come to the house first, but I’ll write a note in Gulliver’s Travels to let you know where and when. And I’ve already put a little note in Around the World in 80 Days just to lift your spirits. Can you do this?”

Maggie was crying quietly, but she nodded.

“You’re strong. I know you can do this or I wouldn’t have asked. This isn’t forever. But if you’re not ready, I’ll have to go alone. There’s no turning back.”

He kissed Maggie on the forehead and slowly backed away from her. Ducking behind the dune again, Lulu began quickly crawling toward her hiding place and made it there by the time she heard the crunching of sand under shoes as Peter walked by. He was close enough that Lulu could have reached out her hand and touched the leg of his trousers.

Lulu waited a long time for Maggie. When it began to grow darker, she carefully emerged from her hiding place and crawled back to the spot behind the dunes and peered through the sea grass again. Maggie sat in the sand with her legs pulled up under her chin, staring at the ocean as if it was answering a question she’d asked. Lulu could tell she’d been crying because of the hair stuck to her cheeks, and the sight of her made Lulu want to cry, too.

Slowly, Lulu ducked out of sight again but stayed where she was in the sand, looking up at the sky as it turned from blue to purple then black, and the stars began to poke holes in the night, all the while knowing that if Maggie left Folly, she’d never come back. Lulu began counting the stars, numbering them with the reasons why Maggie couldn’t leave with Peter until the stars blurred above her.

She hid in the dark as Maggie walked over the dune near her and headed home. Lulu waited until Maggie was out of sight, then followed. It wasn’t until she’d reached the front door of the house that she realized she’d left her wagon behind.

CHAPTER 26

FOLLY BEACH, SOUTH CAROLINA

October 2009

Emmy stood at the farthest end of the unfinished dock, watching the marsh at dawn and marveling how still it was on the surface. The crabs were gone, searching for warmer water, and the grass, its yellow seeds long since blown away by the wind, seemed to be bent in sleep as if it, too, was waiting for the spring sun to make it bloom again.