The Beach House (47 page)

A short honk brought her out to the porch. It was Flo and Miranda and their Buick was packed to the gills. An orange tabby cat stretched out in the back window.

“Just want to say goodbye and give you our travel plans,” called Flo. “The name and number of our motel is in there. Better give me yours, too.”

Cara went to her Saab and scribbled down the name of the motel in Columbia, where she’d made a reservation, and the route she planned on taking.

“Here.” She handed her the information. “We’ll give you a call when we arrive.”

“And the nest?” Miranda asked. She leaned to clench Flo’s arm with birdlike fingers, her pale, cloudy eyes entreating.

“We’re taking care of it, Miranda. Don’t you worry.”

“Aren’t you leaving yet?”

“Almost. I’m still waiting for my mother.”

“You’re what?” asked Flo, aghast. “Don’t tell me she’s still out on the beach!”

“I’m about to go right out and fetch her.”

“Do that! And git! That wind is getting strong and they’ll be closing the bridge before long.” Flo took a last long look at her house. Cara saw the creases of worry and longing carved deep into her tired face. “I wonder if I’ll ever see it again.”

“This can still veer off and miss us,” Cara said, trying to sound reassuring.

Flo tsked loudly and released the emergency brake. “I don’t like this,” she said with a slight tremble in her voice. “Not one little bit.”

“None of us do. Off you go. Drive safe now, hear?”

Toy waited in the front seat of his car as Darryl loaded up the Mustang for the trip west. They’d spent a horrible night on an air mattress in Darryl’s empty apartment. It was so hot and muggy inland that she couldn’t breathe much less sleep. He’d sold the window air conditioner with the rest of his furniture so the only relief from the thick humidity was a creaky, rusty fan whirring back and forth. She couldn’t believe it when his hands started reaching for her. Her with a baby due! A few weeks earlier she might have gritted her teeth and tried to go along with him. But last night her belly had felt as tight as a drum and she was sticky with sweat so she slapped his hand away. Now he was banging things around like a sulking kid. Above them, the sky was swirling gray soup. If they were going to make it out of town, they had to hurry.

Suddenly she felt a pain shudder through her, straight up from her pelvis along her spine, causing her to stiffen and hold her breath. She’d had pains all night long but not like
this.
When the pain eased and her muscles relaxed, she took a deep breath and glanced at her wristwatch. She’d read that she had to time the pains. She rested her head in her palm and tried to keep her breathing steady, thinking of the ocean as it rolled in and out, in and out. She imagined she was floating under a hot sun when she was hit by another pain, every bit as hard and demanding as the last one. She began whimpering.

Darryl got in the front seat, slammed the door and wiped his brow. “Damn, it’s hot. I’ll be glad to leave this hellhole.” He swung his head around. “Are you cryin’ again?
Toy.
” He whined the name to make each vowel a syllable. “What’s the matter now?”

“I’m having these pains.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You’re not having the baby now, are you?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never had a baby before.”

“But aren’t women supposed to know?”

“I just told you, I don’t know!”

“Take it easy.” He put the key into the ignition and started up the engine. “Maybe they’ll just go away.”

She couldn’t believe he could be so stupid. “I think you should take me to the hospital.”

“Now? But we’re leaving! Shit.”

She could feel her face get red with heat and the fear that another pain was building up like the waves she’d imagined before. She shouted at him, “I’m not having this baby in a car!”

She didn’t know what gave her this maddening strength, but she’d get out of the car and walk to the hospital if he didn’t drive her.

He must have seen something in her eyes because he only muttered, “Okay,” along with a lot of other things she didn’t catch.

As he pulled away from the curb she felt a sudden burst of water leaking between her legs. It was warm and she couldn’t control it. Scared, she started to shriek.

“What? What the hell’s the matter?” Darryl shouted, turning his head and looking at her with a frightened look.

“Something’s happening. I’m leaking!” She tried dabbing at the seat between her legs with her dress but it wasn’t doing much.

Then she remembered reading about how the water always burst before the baby was born and she stilled while relief flooded her. She felt stupid but incredibly excited.

“Oh, my God. It’s really happening! The baby’s coming. Darryl—” She reached out to touch his arm.

He shook it off. “It’s about fucking time,” he said, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and dragging one out with his teeth. His hand shook so badly he could hardly light it.

Toy shrank back in her seat, dragging her hand back to cover her belly. The streets rolled by in a blur of tears and, above, the storm clouds whirled thick and ominous. But inside the smoky car, Toy saw her world with crystal clarity. She was alone in this. She couldn’t count on Cara and Miss Lovie. She couldn’t count on Darryl. The only one she could count on was herself.

Lovie crouched down in the wind and gingerly laid the last egg in the bucket. She’d been especially careful not to jostle them so late in the incubation period. She also added extra moist sand along the bottom and sides of the red bucket to form a nestlike setting. When the last egg was in place, she covered all eighty-two of them with more moist sand, up to the rim, and gently patted it down, then covered it with a towel. The bucket was heavy and her arm shook as she lifted it, but she walked with a slow, steady tread, determined not to shake her hatchlings any more than was absolutely necessary. She sang to them as she walked, songs from the nursery any mother would sing to put her babies to sleep.

The wind teased her like a naughty child, lifting her skirt and pushing her forward with a gust. She stopped to steady herself so as not to rock the bucket. At least the rain had stopped, she thought, then said, “Thank you, Lord.” She didn’t want to ask God for any more favors, though she was tempted to drop to her knees right here in the sand and howl off a litany of requests. An inner voice told her to be calm and to accept whatever came.

“Mama!”

Lovie took heart at hearing Cara’s voice and looked up to see her trotting along the path. She set the bucket down, shaking now with fatigue.

“Where have you been? You scared me to death!” Cara had to shout to be heard over the pounding surf and the wind. “Look at you. You’re soaking wet.”

“It took a long time with the waves rushing. And with all my coughing.”

“Let me take that bucket. Here, lean on me.”

“No! Don’t touch the bucket. If you do, you’ll be implicated.”

“Oh, hell, you’re in no condition to carry it. And I’ll be damned if I let you. Where are you taking them, anyway?”

“To the house.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Caretta, I don’t have time to argue. The tide has already crumbled the dunes. There’s no safe place here on the beach to put these babies and we don’t have time to go searching for another spot farther up. I have no choice.”

“Oh, hell,” Cara muttered again, bending to lift the bucket with one hand and grabbing hold of her mother’s arm with the other. As she straightened, the wind slapped her face with cold drops of rain. “Come on, Mama. It’s starting to rain again. Let’s hurry.”

They walked facedown, cutting into the gusts of wind and the sleets of rain. As they rounded the house, Cara squinted through the mist and saw a figure step away from her Saab.

Brett.
He was dressed in jeans and an olive poncho. Strips of hair lay flattened across a face grave with worry. Her heart leaped to her throat. She was so relieved to see him she wanted to drop the bucket and go running into his arms.

But his face was scowling and his heels cut into the sand as he barreled toward them. “What the hell are you still doing here?” he roared. Then his eyes spotted the bucket and his face stilled.

“We had to move it,” she shouted, her eyes glittering with challenge. “The dune was crumbling.” She shouldered past him toward the house.

“I don’t want to know about it!” he shouted back, but he bent to take Lovie’s arm as gallantly as though he were escorting her up the stairs to a ball. “You should be long gone, Miss Lovie.”

“It’s my fault,” Lovie said, leaning against him. “I was so slow and I’m the one who decided to bring the nest up to the house. Cara’s been packed and ready to go for hours.”

“You don’t have to defend her to me.”

“Don’t I?”

She looked up into his face but it was as shuttered as the house.

Back inside, the noise was thankfully muffled. “I gather Florence and Miranda are gone? I got no answer when I knocked.”

“They’ve gone,” replied Cara. She saw Brett walk from window to window, checking out the plywood and shutters. “Don’t worry. I put plenty of nails in.” Then turning to Lovie, “Mama, I’ll put these eggs in a safe place. You hurry and change. You’re soaked through.”

Brett followed Cara into the kitchen where she was moving pots and pans from a lower cabinet. Then, very carefully, she placed the bucket into a spot where it was dry, dark and warm.

“Sleep tight,” she said, closing the cabinet softly. Rising, she wiped the hair from her face and sighed. “I feel like some criminal.”

“You
are
some criminal.”

“So we broke a few rules,” she said defensively. “I don’t have time to worry about that now.”

“I’ve done nothing but worry about you since the moment I saw your car still in the driveway. No, since the moment I last saw you days ago.”

They stood a few inches apart in the small galley and she felt a greater pressure between them than from the hurricane outdoors. She looked up, uncertain. His hair was spiked where he’d pushed it off his face. Drops of rain trailed down his forehead and one hung on the tip of his long lashes.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She slumped against the counter. “Toy’s gone. With Darryl. We found a note this morning.”

Brett’s eyes shone with restraint, then a scowl formed as the situation sank in. He began to pace the narrow kitchen. “Are you certain she’s left with him? Have you called the police? How long have they been gone? Isn’t she due any day?”

Of course his instinct would be to protect.

“She wrote in her letter that she went with Darryl. They could have left any time last night or this morning. We don’t know. And there’s no point in calling the police because we don’t know anything about him, not even his last name. I’ve never even laid eyes on him for a description. All I do know is he’s twenty-four years old, in some band and he hits pregnant women.” She brought her hands to her face. “God, it’s all my fault. I’ve been so caught up with my own problems that I didn’t take the time to reassure her. Of course she went with him. She figured she had nowhere else to go.”

Brett stopped his pacing in front of her, but he didn’t touch her. “You can’t blame yourself.”

“If not me, who? I knew she was afraid. Knew she needed guidance. She tried to tell me, but I didn’t listen. I wanted her to make some decisions for her own life. Then I just got so caught up with mother, my job, the hurricane. She must have been frantic, getting closer and closer to the baby being born. I—I thought I’d have time. We’d figure something out. Wing it. But I wouldn’t have abandoned her!”

Brett’s eyes were feverish and he clenched his fists at his sides, helpless to console her.

“I’ll find her.”

Cara grabbed a paper towel, swiped the tears from her cheeks and sniffed loudly. “How can you? We don’t know where she went.”

“The traffic is backed up, and in her condition, I doubt she could have gotten far. I’ll check the shelters. I’ve got connections. I’ll make some calls. Tell me where you’ll be staying.”

She fumbled with gratitude. “Is this another of those rules of yours? A Lowcountry man never leaves a lady in distress?”

He didn’t reply for a moment, then said reluctantly, “Something like that.”

She grabbed a piece of memo paper and wrote the name of the motel they’d be staying in and the route they’d be taking. “Here, Brett,” she said, handing him the paper. “Even if you don’t find her, thank you. It means a lot that you tried.”

He took the paper. “I’m off then. Turn off the electricity and gas before you go. And
go!
Now. No more delays. I’ll call to check on you and Miss Lovie tonight.”

Then, with a final parting look, he went out into the storm.

She stared at the closed door and wondered for a fleeting moment if she was crazy or if, when she’d handed the piece of paper to him, she’d really felt the connection as his fingers took hold.

A short time later Cara finished loading the car. She’d squeezed all she could into every inch of space then, glancing at her watch, groaned. Two o’clock already, though it seemed more like night. The storm was building as quickly as her fear. They’d delayed too long, Brendan was already at their heels. The surf was pounding so loudly she could feel the percussion in her head, and fear snaked along her spine as she fought her way up the stairs.

“Mama!” she called on entering the house. “Mama, hurry!” She ran into her mother’s room to find Lovie stretched out on the bed, a blanket wrapped around her legs.

“Come on, we’ve got to go!”

Her mother shook her head and brought her knees up to her chest. “You go ahead.”

Cara stopped abruptly. “What?”

“I’m staying.”

“You’re
what?
Oh, no you don’t. This is ridiculous. We don’t have time for this. You’re going.”

“I’m not! I’m not leaving the beach house. Not ever again.” Her voice began to rise with emotion but she checked it, struggling to maintain her dignity. “But
you
have to go. So hurry. Please.” She smiled stiffly.