Lindsay raced through the crowd to hurl herself at her father. “Daddy, you got here!”
“I did.” He bent, hugging her. “You were so good, sweetheart. I loved your song, and the motions were great.” “We were good, weren’t we?” Lindsay did a little
pirouette, beaming.
This was the most animated and outgoing Georgia had ever seen the child. Miz Callie had known what she was doing when she’d arranged for Lindsay to attend Vacation Bible School.
Matt straightened a butterfly wing. “It looks like a crush around the refreshments. Suppose I get drinks for all of us, so you don’t get your wings ruined.” His glance included Georgia.
“Red punch for me,” Lindsay said. “Anything but red punch for me.”
“Right.” Matt’s face relaxed in a smile. “Thank you, Georgia. I owe you.”
“It was a pleasure,” she said, and meant it.
He began to work his way to the table. Lindsay, clinging to Georgia’s hand, chattered away a mile a minute about the performance. “Someday I want to be thunder and lightning, like the big kids.”
One of the older classes had produced some very effective weather effects with a metal sheet and some foam lightning bolts.
“You’ll get to, when you’re older.” That was one of the pleasures of coming back year after year—working your way through the classes to play every part in the production.
“Next week I won’t have anything to do.” Lindsay drooped for a moment. “I wish Bible school wasn’t over.”
“There are lots of other fun things to do in the summer.” A woman with a daughter about Lindsay’s age touched Georgia’s arm. “Hi. I wanted to meet you. My Katie will be in the same grade as Lindsay when school starts. Maybe
we can get our daughters together over the summer.” Georgia opened her mouth to correct the misconcep—
tion, but she didn’t get a chance. Lindsay did it for her. “Don’t say that!” The words rang out loudly in a sudden
silence. “She’s not my mother!”
Georgia tried for an apologetic smile and a light explanation, but as she sought the words, she saw Matt a few feet away, hands filled with paper cups, his face far more thunderous than anything the fifth and sixth graders had managed to produce.
He might as well have been hit in the stomach with a two-by-four. Matt stood, the drinks he held dripping on his fingers, fighting to regain control.
It wasn’t just the assumption the woman had made.
That was tough enough to deal with.
It was Lindsay’s reaction that lent power to the punch. She hadn’t said anything about her mother in so long that he’d begun to believe she’d moved past her grief.
Obviously she hadn’t. How stupid could he get? Georgia, smiling easily, set the woman straight. “I’m
Lindsay’s neighbor and friend, Georgia Bodine.” She held out her hand.
The woman took it, flushing a little. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize…” She stopped, started again. “I’m Linda Mulvaney. This is my daughter, Katie.” Her flush deepened. “We’re new on Sullivan’s Island, you see. I was so pleased that Katie had made a friend her age.”
Georgia, one hand resting lightly on Lindsay’s shoulder, smiled at the other child. “It’s nice to meet you, Katie.
You’re going to love Sullivan’s Island Elementary School. It’s really a fun place.”
“Mommy says we’ll go and visit soon.” Katie tugged at her hand. “Do you think Lindsay could come to my house for a playdate?”
“I’ll bet your mom could arrange that with Lindsay’s dad.” She nodded toward him, then came and took the cups from his hands. “Linda Mulvaney, this is Matthew Harper.”
With half his mind caught up in worrying about his daughter, he fought to speak coherently to the woman. “I’m sure Lindsay would love to get together with Katie. Why don’t I give you my number?” He pulled out his card. “That’s great.” She tucked it into her bag. “Again, I’m
sorry about the misunderstanding.”
“Don’t be, please. How could you know?” Even as he reassured the woman, he eyed his daughter, nerves jangling. Georgia bent over Lindsay, talking to her earnestly.
Whatever she was saying seemed to wipe the strain from his daughter’s face.
Mrs. Mulvaney’s attention was distracted by another mother, and she moved off. Georgia gestured toward a pair of folding chairs, and Katie and Lindsay sat down, their legs swinging in unison, heads together.
“It’s great that Lindsay made a friend,” Georgia said cautiously to Matt.
“She seems okay now. What did you say to her?”
“I just explained that Katie’s mother didn’t know us. That it was a mistake, easily fixed.” She gazed at him, concern plain in her eyes. “I’m sorry if her comment upset you.”
“It didn’t.” He wasn’t being honest, and he suspected Georgia knew that. The incident had bothered him, upsetting his precarious view of how things were. “Katie’s mother is going to call me so we can set a time to get the girls together.”
“Life was simpler when I was a kid. Our neighborhood in Mount Pleasant had kids in every house. All you had to do to make a friend was go out the front door. Now the parents have to get involved.”
“Jennifer used to do that. Even before Lindsay started school, she’d organized a playgroup for her.” Jennifer had been so intent on doing everything right when it came to raising their daughter. “I should have picked up on that.” “It’s tough in a new place.” Georgia’s voice was warm with sympathy. “Now that Lindsay has one friend, she’ll meet others. By the time school starts, she’ll have a group
of girls to hang around with.”
That would have been what Georgia’s life was like at eight. A nice house in a nice neighborhood, lots of friends. He had no basis for comparison. But his daughter would. He’d make sure of it.
“I should have seen it sooner.” His gaze fixed on his daughter. “I should have realized that she needed help making friends.”
She patted his arm lightly, sympathy flowing through her very touch. “You’ve had plenty to deal with. If you’d stayed in Boston…” She let that trail off, as if she didn’t want to go there.
“If we’d stayed in Boston, we’d have had friends to support us.” He took a breath, remembering what it had been like. “But Lindsay couldn’t deal with that. Neither could I. Maybe the two of us are more alike than I thought.” “It bothered you, being with friends whose families were
still intact.” She seemed to understand without questions. “It did.” He glanced around, but no one was close
enough to hear. “We were rattling around in that house together, looking for Jennifer around every corner.” His voice thickened. “The grief was everywhere. I felt as if we were both drowning in it.”
“So you decided to make a fresh start here.”
“Yes.” His throat was tight. “I guess I thought we could outrun our grief, but I was wrong. We can’t.”
And now he’d complicated everything by showing Georgia the depth of his emotional failings. He hated not being in control of his feelings. He’d thought he could get over his grief, help Lindsay get over her grief, by starting fresh.
Guilt flooded him. He’d been disloyal, trying to escape the fact of Jennifer’s death. Then doubly disloyal for having feelings for Georgia.
Wouldn’t Jennifer want him to love again? The thought, coming out of nowhere, was like a punch in the heart. For an instant he was numb. The anger rushed in. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair.
A
fter yesterday’s revelation, Georgia hadn’t been sure how Matt would react to her today. But he’d picked her up right on time, and a glance had assured her that he had his game face on.
“Are you sure that this man understood why we want to talk with him?” Matt had already located one of the two men Miz Callie had identified, living just a few minutes’ drive away in North Charleston. “He must be getting up in years.” “In his eighties, but very much all there, from what I could tell.” Matt smiled. “We had to come this morning,
because he has a bocce-ball tournament this afternoon.”
Georgia glanced down at the Ashley River far below as they drove across the bridge. “That does sound pretty lively.”
“He may not know anything, but it’s worth the effort.” He was right. So far they had absolutely nothing. Even Miz Callie’s hope had begun to dim a little, she thought.
She was losing her faith that they’d ever find evidence to exonerate Ned.
She glanced at Matt, but his face didn’t give anything away. She longed to speak to him again about Lindsay.
Even an amateur like her could see that the child needed help with her grief.
Steeling herself for his reaction, she took a breath. “I want to talk to you again about Lindsay.”
He shot her a look that threatened to pin her back against the car door. “I don’t—”
“About her birthday,” she said quickly, her courage failing. “Miz Callie would like to have a little party for her. They were talking about a crab boil on the beach, and Lindsay was intrigued. So Miz Callie thought we could do that, unless you have other plans.”
His face relaxed. “That’s very kind of her, but isn’t it too much trouble? I don’t want her wearing herself out for Lindsay.”
“I don’t think she’s ever gotten tired from planning a party. It’s one of her favorite things. When we were little, she loved having our parties on the island. She put on a treasure hunt for my ninth birthday that I still remember.” “Only if she’ll let me buy the supplies and help with the
work.”
She grinned. “You can try arguing with her over that, but I wouldn’t make a bet on your winning.”
“It’s only fair—” he began.
“She loves Lindsay. She wants to do something nice for her. Besides, it’ll distract her from the information we don’t have.”
“You have a point there.” His brows drew down. “The paperwork is moving along a lot faster than I expected. You know, the further this goes, the more likely it is that Miz Callie’s plans will get out.”
She nodded, not liking the sense that time was working against them. “Can’t you slow it down a bit?”
“I’d have to reckon with your grandmother if I did that.” Matt’s navigation system beeped, and he turned onto the
street they wanted. “Let’s just hope Bennett Adams has something to say.”
She leaned forward, watching the house numbers. “If he did, you’d think he’d have come out with it before this.” The navigation system announced their arrival just as Georgia pointed to the house, and Matt pulled to the curb. “There could be a lot of reasons why he’d keep quiet,” he
said. “We’ll just have to play it by ear.”
They got out of the car. As they started up the flagstone walk toward the small cottage, Matt’s hand was at her back. She felt its warmth right through her.
The front door swung open at their approach. “Hey, there. Welcome. Y’all come in now.”
Bennett Adams was tiny, barely taller than Georgia. Bald and a bit frail-looking, he had snapping brown eyes that were full of life.
“Mr. Adams, I’m Matt Harper.” Matt extended his hand. “And this is Georgia Bodine.”
“Call me Benny. So you’re Georgia.” He took her hand, holding it for a long moment. “Little Callie’s granddaughter. You have the look of her, you know.”
“I hope so.” She warmed to him at once. Like Miz Callie, Adams seemed to be the kind of person who didn’t let age keep him from enjoying life.
“Come and sit down.” He waved his hand toward a sofa in front of the window of the crowded, minuscule living room. He sat in a threadbare recliner and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “So what’s this all about, then?”
“Miz Callie is living out at the Sullivan’s Island house now, the one that belonged to the Bodines. Do you remember it?”
“’Course I do. The Bodines pretty much held open house for their kids’ friends during the summer, even during the war years.”
“My grandmother has been thinking a lot about that time, especially the summer of 1942.” She took a breath and plunged ahead. “She wants to find out what happened to her husband’s older brother, Ned Bodine.”
His eyes grew guarded at the name. “Seems way too late for that, don’t it?”
Georgia leaned forward, hands clasped. “She’s desperate to do this. She believes Ned has been treated unjustly all these years—that he’d never have run away rather than join up. Please, if you know anything, tell us.”
“I don’t know what happened to him when he went away, if that’s what you mean.” He shook his head. “I’m right sorry to let little Callie down, but I don’t know.”
Her heart sank. That was it, then.
“You were on the island when he disappeared,” Matt said. “Anything you can remember about Ned might help.” “I don’t see how.” He leaned back, as if retreating from
them.
“Please.” She extended a hand, palm up, asking.
He shrugged. Shook his head. “I do remember he fought with his father all that summer about enlisting,” Benny said slowly. “Funny, that was. All any of us boys could talk about was how we were going to enlist, minute we were old enough.”
“Ned didn’t feel that way?” Matt put the question quietly. “At first he did. Beginning of the summer, we made a pact that we’d go enlist together. Our birthdays were only
a couple days apart, you see.” “But that changed?”