Twice in a Lifetime (19 page)

He nodded. “That was what all the fighting with his daddy was about. Seemed like Ned was changing his mind, delaying in a way. Old Mr. Bodine was a real fire-eater. He’d have gone off to fight himself if they’d have taken him.”

“Do you know why Ned changed his mind?”

“Not because he was scared, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Brown eyes locked on to them. “Mind, Ned wasn’t foolish daring, like some of us were, but he never backed away from anything or anybody.”

“Then why did he change his mind about enlisting?”

Benny’s gaze slid away, and he picked at a loose thread on the arm of the recliner. “Don’t know as I know. I wouldn’t want to guess.”

She exchanged a look with Matt. The man knew something. Whether they could get it out of him…

Matt nodded, as if telling her to pursue it, probably thinking the man was more likely to tell her. He had good insight into what made people tick—no doubt an asset to an attorney.

“Mr. Adams—Benny, please. If you know something, even guess something, please tell us. My grandmother is so set on finding out the truth. It will hurt her terribly to never know. And hurt me, too, if I can’t do this thing for her.”

“Well, now, young lady, you know how to make it hard on a person. If I had a granddaughter like you…” He shook his head. “Suppose I told you something about Ned that…well, some folks might think was a slur on his character. Don’t you think your grandmother would rather remember him the way she does?”

She straightened. “If you still knew Callie Bodine, you wouldn’t ask that. She’d rather have the truth, every time.”

He studied her face for a long moment, as if assessing her determination. Finally he nodded.

“All right then. I’ll tell you what I thought, but mind, Ned never confided in me about it. I’m just saying what I thought.” Her fingers twined tightly. Were they finally going to get some insight? She could sense Matt’s tension, his

yearning to find answers at last.

Benny frowned, gazing back into the past. “There was

a couple from Charleston rented a place out on the island that summer. Can’t say anybody really took to him—big, blustery kind of guy, wore flashy clothes and talked loud all the time. Gossip said he was into the black market, but I don’t know if that was true.”

He surely wasn’t going to imply that Ned was involved in anything like that—was he?

“Now, his wife was something different altogether. A lady. Pretty, too. Why she wanted to take up with a fella like that, nobody could figure.” He shook his head. “It wasn’t a very happy marriage, by all accounts.” He stopped, as if reluctant to go on.

“Please…”

“You’re thinking Ned was involved with the wife,” Matt said, quicker than she was to reach the conclusion.

“I’m not saying that.” He held up his hands in denial. “But she was an awful pretty woman. She’d be out on the beach lots of times when us kids were out, and seemed like she enjoyed our company.”

“How did Ned react?” Matt asked.

Benny shrugged. “Didn’t talk about it much. I remember one time when the husband had been drinking too much and making a fool of himself, Ned said that it was a pity with all the good men getting killed, a skunk like that was still walking around.”

“Do you remember what their name was?” She held her breath, hoping they weren’t going to have to track down every summer visitor to the island in 1942.

He frowned. “Malloy, that was it. Don’t recall first names, but the last name was Malloy.”

“Do you know which house they rented?” Some of the rental agents could have records.

“It’s not there anymore, is it?” He shook his head, as if regretting all that was gone. “Tore it down like they did a

lot of places, but it was the second place down island from the Bodine house. That’s how we come to see her on the beach so often, you see.”

He shook his head, some of the spirit seeming to go out of him. “Ah, it’s a long time ago now. We were all close as could be that summer, but come Labor Day, folks started to leave. I enlisted—infantry. Got over to Europe in time to do my share. Most of those folks I lost track of by the time I finally come home again. You know how it is.”

She didn’t, but she could imagine. The world had been turned upside down, and they’d all been part of it.

“Thank you.” She took his hand, clasping it firmly in hers. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me to hear your story.” He put his other hand over hers. “Mind, I can’t say anything for sure. It’s just my idea of what was going on.”

“I know.” She rose, bending to kiss his cheek. He flushed. “I hope it does some good.”

Matt shook his hand. “Thanks for letting us impose on you this morning.”

“Impose nothing.” He rose to walk with them to the door. “It’s rare enough when I get company, and even rarer when somebody wants to talk about the old days. Now, you give my respects to your grandmother, y’heah?”

“I will. I’m sure she’ll be grateful, too.”

But doubt assailed her as they stepped off the narrow porch. She glanced up at Matt. “At least, she will if we tell her.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Afraid Miz Callie wouldn’t like having her hero’s image clouded?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

He opened the gate, holding it for her. “Miz Callie always struck me as being wise in the ways of the heart. I doubt she’s going to be shocked by this.”

She thought of her grandmother’s calm comfort over her broken engagement. “Maybe you’re right.”

Matt squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry so much. Miz Callie wants the truth, no matter where it takes us.”

She managed a nod, despite the fact that she felt as if he’d squeezed her heart instead of her hand. A wave of panic swept through her. She was getting in way over her head with Matt. What would Miz Callie have to say about that?

“Exactly how many people have you invited to this party?” Georgia paused while cutting up cantaloupe for the fruit salad, assessing the size of the bowl—Miz Callie’s largest, she felt sure.

Her grandmother evaded her gaze. “Oh, I don’t know exactly. Folks just hear about it. You know how it is.”

She did indeed know how it was. Miz Callie’s beach parties always started out small. They never ended up that way. An unpleasant sensation crawled across her skin at the memory of how one particular crab boil had ended up. “Does it still bother you?” Miz Callie, exhibiting her uncanny ability to read one’s thoughts through the smallest reaction, stopped stirring a pitcher of lemonade to cast a look of concern at Georgia. “What happened with Cole’s

roommate, I mean.”

“No, of course not.” She forced a smile she didn’t feel. “I didn’t even think you knew. How silly would that be, to brood about something that happened ages ago?”

She didn’t think Miz Callie bought that, but she didn’t push, either, thank goodness.

Georgia didn’t want to remember that incident. She’d been young for her years, inexperienced, and she’d acted like an idiot. End of story.

“If you think the crowd is going to be bigger than expected, maybe I ought to pick up more crabs and

shrimp.” She looked down at her fruit-stained T-shirt. “But I’d have to change clothes first.”

“No need,” she said. “Adam’s taking care of it.” “Adam. As in my brother Adam? But he doesn’t even

know Lindsay.”

“Well, now he will.” Miz Callie shut the refrigerator door firmly on the lemonade.

A sinking feeling gripped her stomach. “Just how many Bodines are going to show up tonight?”

“Anybody who wants to. Now, Georgia, you stop worrying. Things are going to turn out fine. Look how much progress you and Matt have made already.”

She wasn’t sure she’d define what they found out as progress. On Sunday, sitting in the simple, airy sanctuary of the church Ned must have attended, she’d found herself wondering what it would have been like for him. Had he looked up at the plain wooden cross and wrestled with God over his feelings for a married woman? Had he begged for forgiveness and then run away with her?

“Matt’s trying to trace the woman, but I don’t know how easy it will be.” She hesitated, not sure she should bring up the thing that bothered her most. But someone had to. “Suppose we do find her. Suppose we find that Ned left everything behind—his family, his duty—and ran off with her. Can you forgive that?”

The sorrow in Miz Callie’s eyes told Georgia that she had already considered that. “Forgiveness wouldn’t be up to me. That would be between Ned and God.”

“I know. But…” She frowned down at the bowl of fruit and tried to find the words to express what she felt. “When you let somebody love you, it seems to me you become responsible. You can’t turn your back on them without hurting them and losing a little bit of yourself.”

That was as good an explanation as any for what had

been wrong between her and James. He’d turned his back on her, and it hadn’t, as far as she could tell, cost him anything. His heart had remained perfectly intact, which must mean that it hadn’t been engaged at all.

“You have something there.” Her grandmother’s voice was soft. “Love costs. How did you get so smart?”

She smiled, despite the tears that stung her eyes. “From watching my grandmother.”

Miz Callie shook her head. “Took me a lot longer to figure out how people work, it seems to me. But I know that forgiveness isn’t up to us. We’ve all done things—” She stopped suddenly, hands tightening around a dish towel, staring out the window at the dunes.

“What’s wrong?” Georgia peered through the window, seeing nothing unusual.

Miz Callie planted her hands on the table. “We were talkin’, and all of a sudden it was like a door opened in my mind and a memory fell out.”

“A memory of what?” For a moment she’d been alarmed, but Miz Callie seemed all right. It was what Aunt Lizbet had said, too, when a memory from the distant past emerged.

“Your granddad and I, out way later than we should have been, I’m sure, ’cause it was already getting dark. Enough moonlight to see where we were going, though, and Richmond—well, he could have found his way home blind-folded from anywhere on the island. We were coming by one of the cottages, and we could hear somebody inside.” She shivered, as if she were that child again, standing out in the dunes on a summer night. “Not that we never heard folks yelling—our folks yelled at us when we needed it. But this was different—a man’s voice, mean. We stood there, holding hands, scared and not knowing what to do. And then there was the sound of a slap, and a woman crying.”

Georgia didn’t need to ask whose house it had been. It fit only too clearly with what Benny had said.

Miz Callie’s hand was extended, as if she still clasped the hand of her Richmond. “Then we saw we weren’t alone. Ned stood there in the dunes, stiff as a statue, staring at that house. Only thing that moved was his hands, working like he wanted to tear something. I’d never seen him like that—never even dreamed he could look that way.”

Miz Callie stopped, seeming stuck at that image. “Did he see you?”

“He did, and then he was himself again. Told us to cut along home. Richmond wanted him to come with us, but he said he wasn’t ready to go in yet.” She rubbed her hands on her apron. “Funny. I thought we’d ask him about what happened. Ned was good at explaining things grown-ups might not want to talk about. But Richmond said better not, so we never did. Guess it doesn’t mean much.”

Georgia wouldn’t soon get that image out of her mind of a young Ned, standing out in the dunes, unable to help the woman he loved.

Love costs, Miz Callie had said. What had it cost Ned? “Miz Callie! Georgia! I’m here. Can I help?”

Lindsay slid the glass door back and burst into the kitchen, shattering the silence.

“If it isn’t the birthday girl.” Miz Callie grabbed her and kissed her. “You best get used to being kissed, child, ’cause we give lots of kisses on your birthday.”

“I’m eight. That’s getting pretty grown-up, isn’t it?” She came to Georgia, lifting her face for a kiss.

Georgia kissed her and held her close for a moment. “Almost old enough to vote,” she said. “Happy birthday, sugar. Where’s your daddy?”

“He’s on the beach, helping the men. What can I do?”

On the beach, helping the men. What men? Georgia stepped out to the deck and looked down. She spotted Matt instantly among the group stacking driftwood for a fire. Matt was being exposed to way too many Bodine males at once—her father, Adam, a couple of cousins— and there wasn’t a thing she could do to help him.

She turned back to Lindsay. Maybe she and Lindsay should go out and dilute all that testosterone.

“How about if you help me carry things out, okay?” “Okay.” Lindsay danced in place while Georgia

loaded a basket for her with paper plates, napkins and cups. “Did you know that a bunch of my friends from Bible school are going to be here? And Miz Candy, my teacher, too.”

“That’ll be great.” Georgia grabbed a roll of plastic tablecover, scissors and tape, and a thermos of sweet tea. “Okay, let’s go.”

Lindsay hurried out ahead of her, but her steps slowed as she started down toward the dunes. Georgia caught up with her, and they went side by side.

“Last year I had a party at the bouncy place,” she said. “And the year before at the gym.”

“I’ll bet those were fun,” Georgia said, noticing the sudden frown on Lindsay’s face.

“They were.” She emphasized the words. “My mommy did them, and she invited all my friends and decorated and had my favorite kind of cake and pizza and everything.”

Georgia’s heart twisted. Poor child. She felt disloyal enjoying a party that was so different from what her mother would have done.

She fought to keep emotion out of her voice. “Your mommy gave you really special parties.”

Lindsay nodded.

“This year Daddy and Miz Callie are giving you an island-girl party, because you’re an island girl now. That’s different, but it’s okay to like different things.”

Lindsay didn’t say anything for a moment.

Had she said the right thing?
Don’t let me make a mistake when it comes to this child, Lord. She’s had too many hurts already.

She’d been praying for Lindsay since the day they’d met, but a little extra prayer for help never went amiss.