Undertow (2 page)

Breathless with anticipation, I slid the first one off the bed and slowly opened the cover. It belonged to Margaret Weaver Kyser, Meg for short. She was Will, Jack, and Lucy’s mom, and she died in a car crash when they were babies.

My fingers trembled as I gently turned the pages. There were gaps in the timeline, I noticed, and I wasn’t sure what I would discover here.

But I was ready to know.

Book 1 – Meg

May 31, 19—

Margaret Louise Kyser. Mrs. William S. Kyser. William and Margaret Kyser. Bill and Meg. Bill and Meg Kyser. Bill and Meg Kyser cordially invite you to their estate on Hammond Island…

Nothing’s more exciting than a new journal. The blank pages just waiting to be filled with all the interesting and amazing things about to happen to me. I’m starting a new life. It’s almost as fun as planning a wedding. And planning a wedding is
so
much more fun than going to high school.

I’ve actually been planning my wedding since I was a little girl dressed up in my grandmother’s chiffon nightgowns and scarves. Meeting Billy provided the face to my mystery groom, and what a perfect face. I knew the minute I saw him our first day at Fairview High School that he was the one. Tall and slim with soft brown hair and beautiful blue eyes—it was love at first sight.

We’ll be together forever, of course, with little Will, John, Lucy, and Megan. Will will be named after Billy and John for my daddy. Lucy is for my best friend Alexandra Marie LaSalle, who has the coolest name ever. We all call her Lexy for short, and I know, Lucy’s not the same as Lexy. But it reminds me of Lexy, and I want my little girl to be just like her—creative, beautiful, full of flair, and loyal to the end.

Megan’s for me, but that’s just my safety. Billy hasn’t said if he wants four babies, but I can probably change his mind. And I know, my given name is Margaret. But everybody calls me Meg. That’s why I chose Megan. It’s a cute little variation and will give her her own personal style.

Our wedding is set for June 15. The perfect date for the most perfect day of our lives. We’ll be married on the beach, of course. The beach Billy is always talking about filling with high rises. I don’t want to be disloyal, but I think blocking up the East End Beach skyline is a terrible idea. Of course, Billy knows best.

He and his best friend Bryant Brennan have a plan for taking the barren landscape of South County and turning it into a high-end tourist destination. I don’t care about that. I’m only interested in our perfect house and our three (or four) perfect children. He can take care of the rest.

Lexy is my maid of honor. We’ve been best friends since she moved to Port Hogan to live with Mrs. Stella Walker and go to the Magnolia School with me. Miss Stella has a big old Victorian home down on Port Hogan Road, and she’s famous for helping the Sisters of St. Joseph with their orphans. Before she lived here, Lexy lived with the sisters at the Little Flower Convent in Sterling. Her mother’s mentally ill and can’t take care of herself, much less a baby.

I think growing up in a place called Little Flower must’ve had some influence on how artistic and imaginative she is. But we don’t ever talk about that. I’m sensitive to Lexy’s feelings.

When we started kindergarten, she had the biggest brown eyes of any little girl I’d ever seen. She was very shy, but she was certainly eye-catching with her long dark hair and olive skin. I knew immediately we’d be best friends. With my long blonde hair and blue eyes we were like night and day together. The complete set.

Lexy is the most talented artist I’ve ever met, which I guess isn’t saying much because I don’t know any other artists. Still, her brilliant oil paintings fill a room, just like her personality now that we’re grown up, and she’s already been accepted to the Savannah College of Art and Design. That’s the best art school around.

Everybody calls it SCAD, which I think is crazy because it sounds like SCAB, but whatever. I told her she’d get in. Gallery owners all over Newhope and East End Beach have been carrying her works since she set up an easel outside the marina where Billy keeps his boat. She would sit out there and slap brilliantly colored paints on huge canvasses and in a few hours she’d be signing off on massive images of sailboats waiting to go out, brown pelicans sitting atop pier posts, even piles of blue crabs stacked after emptying a day’s trap. Tourists and locals would wait for hours to pay her for a finished piece, and she was only in high school.

In a month she’ll move to Savannah, but before she leaves, she’s going to walk down the aisle in front of me to celebrate the most perfect day of my life.

My mother, Mrs. Georgiana Weaver, is on practically every volunteer board and committee in South County. That’s because my daddy, Dr. John Weaver, is the best surgeon at the hospital in Fairview, and he’s a founding member of the hospital expansion committee.

When the county commissioner’s wife had to have her gall bladder removed, she insisted on having my daddy perform the surgery. It means we have a lot of money, and it tends to make people take notice of us.

Anyway, my mother wasn’t too keen on the idea of me getting married right out of high school. Those were her exact words, “not too keen.” But once I explained to her the only thing I wanted to do was marry Billy and start having the most beautiful children this county’s ever seen, she laughed and said I should follow my dreams.

Everyone acts like your dreams should be something earth-shaking and huge. When I was South County’s contestant for the State Junior Miss competition in Sterling, all the other contestants would talk about how they were going to be ambassadors or newswomen or actresses—things that would take them far away from their homes and families.

I’m glad I didn’t win. I can’t imagine living anywhere besides here. I know everyone in South County. I know where everything is and who owns what, and once Billy sets his plan in motion, he’s going to put East End Beach on the map, and we’ll be rich. He’s told me that a hundred times, and if anybody does what they say they will, it’s Billy.

We’re perfect for each other, Billy and me, because I’ll be his patient, loving wife making his home and taking care of our beautiful children while he’s out conquering the world. I’m used to husbands who work a lot from my daddy. He’s always on call or at the hospital late or on Saturdays and Sundays. Billy’s working won’t bother me a bit because in the end we’ll just be two old people sitting on our front porch surrounded by our grandbabies. And we’ll smile and pat each others’ hands and reminisce about how hard we had to struggle and how happy we are together.

It also helps that Billy’s daddy owns a good-sized horse ranch in Midlind, so even if my future husband’s master plan doesn’t pan out, we’ll still land on our feet.

Lexy’s coming over to try on her maid of honor dress in a few hours, and I can’t wait. Miss Sensory Ocean-Mystic “You shouldn’t be getting married so young” is going to flip when she sees it—dark maroon strapless bodice with a white tulle skirt. She’ll look amazing next to me in my all-white, strapless dress with matching tulle skirt.

I went with all-white even though I’ve got a secret that only Billy and I know. I’m expecting little Will before Christmas.

We’ll tell everyone just as soon as the honeymoon’s over. And after that, we’ll be on our way to living happily ever after.

June 10, 19--

Of course Lexy loved her bridesmaid’s dress. My wedding is going to be perfect, and it’s only five days away. I’m having trouble eating, sleeping, concentrating on anything. I’m so excited. A cruise this evening was the perfect idea. Billy’s so clever.

Going out on Billy’s boat is one of my all-time favorite things in the world. It’s so perfectly Gulf Coast. We load up in the marina at East End Beach and set out to feel the breeze on our faces and watch the sun set. Speaking of watching, watching my future husband batten the hatches and tighten the lines as he puts us out to sea is almost as exhilarating as the sunset. He’s typically shirtless, and Billy has a perfect physique. I expect all of our sons to inherit their daddy’s good looks. Of course, the girls will all look just like me. The model family.

Lexy arrived just a few minutes after us. She drives a funny Jeep-like vehicle, a sidekick or something. I’m pretty sure it was recalled by the manufacturer a few years ago, which is the only way she could buy it. Miss Stella is good to her orphans, but she can’t afford many luxuries. Lexy was able to use her painting money to lift this heap off some old-timer. God, how I love our group. How I hate that we’ll all be separated soon.

Bryant is bringing Donna Albriton with him. She’s a nice girl. A little thick around the ankles, but she has a sweet face. And anyone who can put up with Bryant’s boisterous personality deserves a medal. He’s as loud as a yard hand. I’m just glad my beautiful, artistic friend agreed to join us. Donna’s sweet, but she can be dreadfully dull.

“Lexy! Over here!” I called. I was so excited when I saw her on the pier. “Billy’s getting the boat, so we can hop on in just a minute.”

“I guess it’s a good evening for sailing,” she said frowning. Lexy hates boats. “Where we headed?”

“The boys want to inspect some land around Terry Cove. Near Hammond Island.”

“Planning their future homes?”

We giggled and hugged each other. Lexy knows the guys as well as I do. Bryant isn’t quite as ambitious as Billy, but he’ll go with him as far as Billy’s dreams will take them. I’m just happy my future’s settled.

“Hey, Lex.” Billy was back with his shirt unbuttoned, maneuvering the small craft for us to climb aboard.

I took his hand, and as he gently helped me across (Baby on board!), he gave me a kiss. He’s terribly sexy. Next he helped Lexy across, and she pretended not to notice him. I rolled my eyes.

If only she didn’t try so hard to hate him, they might actually be good friends. I know Billy’s willing to give her a chance, but she’s so determined I’m making a mistake getting married now.

“Bill,” Lexy said, very formal. “I see you’re at least willing to enjoy the beauty of our hometown even though you’re bent on destroying it.”

“I’m not planning to destroy the beauty of our hometown, Lex,” he said patiently. “I just want to share it with others.”

“And get filthy rich while you’re at it.”

“Yes. That is definitely in the plan,” he laughed.

“You two don’t start,” I said.

Lexy scooted in next to me and gave me a squeeze. How I loved my dear friend. “After next week, you will never hear me argue with Bill again.” She pushed a lock of my hair behind my ear. “I will have nothing but best wishes for you and your little family.”

She must’ve felt me jump because Lexy was onto us in an instant. She’s pretty clever herself. “Okay, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But I was blushing.

Her big dark eyes narrowed. “This sudden wedding couldn’t be because you’re expecting anything?”

Billy looked uncomfortable.

“You’ve got to swear not to tell anyone, Lexy,” I pleaded, holding her arm. “It’s only for a little while longer.”

“You’re not.” But the annoyance in her voice had softened, and the light glistened on her now-misty eyes.

I smiled huge at that. “I am!”

We both screamed, and I threw my arms around her. Naturally, she had a million questions, but then Bryant and Donna walked up. I immediately changed the subject and welcomed them onboard.

After cruising a good ways down the sound and around the peninsula into Terry Cove, Billy pulled out the surprise—a bottle of champagne he slipped out of the marina bar.

“To us and our future,” he said, popping the cork.

We all shared a glass, and I don’t think anyone noticed that I only took one tiny sip from mine. It was sad that Lexy was leaving, but it was going to be amazing watching Billy and Bryant conquer the coast.

June 15, 19--

As predicted, my wedding was the event of the season in South County. There must’ve been 300 people come out to Romar Beach to see us tie the knot. Both papers sent photographers to take pictures for the Tuesday edition.

We were married on the future site of Phoenician I, and coming down the aisle, I took a mental picture of the scene. Dr. Gatts in the middle with my beautiful best friend to the left, long dark hair waving in the breeze, tulle skirt swishing around her like sea foam. My gorgeous husband to the right, loose white shirt fluttering in the wind, smiling in approval. I wore my hair wrapped in a tight French twist, and I could feel my veil streaming around me like a cloud.

After the wedding, we danced and visited with our friends for hours until it was time to board Daddy’s yacht and head south. The reception was all catered by the best local caterer and the flowers were all native plants, magnolias and confederate roses, calla lilies, and hydrangeas.

We’d ordered individual plates of shrimp and grits for everyone, but of course there were tables piled high with finger foods and desserts. The champagne fountain and fondue station were where most people hung out, and all our silly teenage-boy friends were busy dipping everything in the flowing chocolate.

But I loved seeing people having a good time. And I loved knowing they’d just go on and on about our wedding for at least six months. Good luck to the next local girl attempting to top my gala event.