Lessons of a Lowcountry Summer (12 page)

“That sounds like fun, all except for the cute boys.”

“You can't expect us to talk about cute girls, can you?”

Throwing back his head, Theo laughed. “No, but I can.”

What he wanted to tell Hope was that he thought she was more than cute. She was pretty and very sexy. And he found himself drawn to her. And not because he had been celibate for six months but because her looks matched her intelligence. A combination he had not found in all of the women he had ever dated.

His smile faded. “What brings you to McKinnon Island?”

Hope wanted to say a medical dilemma and the shocking revelation that the man she'd planned to marry was bisexual. “I used to spend my summers here as a child,” she said instead.

“You have family on the island?”

She shook her head. “I used to. I inherited this house after my grandparents passed away. My mother and her brother didn't want it, and neither did any of my siblings, so it was willed to me. How about yourself? Why have you come to McKinnon?”

“My friend is loaning me his place for the summer so I can complete a few scripts.”

“How much is a few?”

“Six.”

Hope stared at Theo, complete surprise on her face. “Six movie scripts?”

He shook his head. “No. Television.”

Her smile was dazzling. “Good for you. When do you have to submit them?”

“The last one must be completed by the end of September.”

“You only have four months.” It was already the first week in June.

“That's plenty of time.” And it was. Once he completed the pilot, Theo knew he could realistically complete one script every two weeks. “If you're not doing anything Sunday afternoon, I'd like to invite you over to the house for dinner…” His words trailed off. “And, of course, to meet the rest of my family,” he added, as if an afterthought.

She thought about turning down the invitation, then thought about Noelle. She wanted to see her again. Smiling, she said, “I'd like very much to meet them.”

“I'll pick you up at two.”

Hope felt the intensity of Theo's stare. It was as if he were photographing her with his eyes. To say he was handsome was an understatement, and it was obvious women were drawn to him for more than his ability to write award-winning scripts.

It wasn't vanity that told her that Theodore Howell was interested in her for more than her help with his sister. But right now she did not want him or any man to become interested in her. Not while the image of Kendall with another man still lingered along the fringes of her mind, resurfacing in her dreams.

“There's no need to pick me up.” She did not want the dinner to be misconstrued as a date.

Theo's nostrils flared slightly. “I'd rather bring you than have you come on your own. My brothers and sister have never seen me with a woman since they've come to live with me. I believe it would be more comfortable for them if they see us together when I make the introductions.”

“Are you saying they're going to reject me outright?”

“I don't know how they'll react,” he said honestly. “After all, they do have problems with boundaries.”

What he did not say was that he did not know his siblings well enough to predict their reactions to anything. He was almost certain Noelle would welcome Hope, but he had his doubts about Christian.

Hope nodded, her curiosity aroused. “I'll be ready at two.”

Theo stood up and smiled. The gesture was as intimate as a kiss. “Thank you, Hope.”

“You're welcome, Theo.”

She did not move off the chaise for another hour—long after Theo had disappeared beyond the beach. The sound of an approaching car signaled Rebecca's return. Hope glanced at her watch. It was almost three o'clock. Waiting until after she'd heard the solid slam of the door to Rebecca's Mercedes-Benz sedan, she got up and went into the house. It was time to prepare for their afternoon tea.

 

 

R
ebecca walked
into the cottage, grimacing against the wave of heat rushing at her. She had left all the windows open. Not even the cooling breeze coming off the water could counter the buildup of heat. She had become too accustomed to central air-conditioning.

Making her way to the tiny kitchen, she opened the refrigerator and placed a decorative airtight container filled with vanilla meringue kisses on a shelf. She kicked off her sandals, retrieved her cell phone from her purse, and pressed the speed-dial number to her home.

“Hello.”

Rebecca recognized her mother's voice immediately. Felicia Leighton's New England inflection sounded strange, because after living in South Carolina for more than half her life, Rebecca had become so used to the drawling cadence of Southerners.

“Hello, Mom. What's going on?”

“Not much since your last call, and that was just about twenty-four hours ago.”

She ignored her mother's retort. “Where are Ashlee and Kyle?”

“Georgina took them out with her. She said something about having them volunteer at a summer camp for the next month—”

“What summer camp!” Rebecca exclaimed, interrupting Felicia.

“I don't know the name of it. She said something about them becoming CITs.”

“Counselors-in-training.”

“Yes, dear, that's it.”

The tight ball forming in her stomach forced Rebecca to sit down. “The sneaky, manipulative witch! She waited for me to go away…” Her words trailed off.

“What's the matter, Rebecca?”

“Georgina only orchestrated this subterfuge so you and Dad won't be able to spend time with your grandchildren. Does Lee know about this?”

“Of course he does.”

She glanced at her watch, wanting to talk to her husband before he left work. “Look, Mom, I'll talk to you later.”

“Rebecca, please take care of yourself.”

“I will.” She pressed the End button, then dialed Lee's private line. His secretary answered, then connected her to Lee.

“Hi, baby.”

“Don't you dare freakin' ‘baby' me, Lee Owens. What the hell does your mother think she's doing?”

“What's the matter, Becky?”

“She's sabotaging my plans for my children.”

“Your children? Am I not their father?”

“I don't know. There are times when you don't act like their father. You knew my parents were going to take care of Kyle and Ashlee for the summer, yet you let your mother woo them away with a volunteer summer job.”

“They said they wanted to do it.”

“When did this all come about? It certainly wasn't yesterday, when I spoke to them.”

There was a pause, then Lee said, “I'm not going to get into it with you now, Rebecca. But let me remind you that it was you who decided to leave your children because you
need
to find yourself. So, whatever it is they want to do during your absence should not concern you as long as I approve it.”

She bit down on her lower lip to cut off the words threatening to explode from her mouth. Words she knew she would regret later. Lee was as manipulative as his mother.

“You're right, Lee. I'm not the first Owens woman to leave Charleston and not come back, and I'm certain I won't be the last.” Her forefinger hit the End button, terminating the call.

Lee's younger sister Phyllis had left Charleston to attend college in California. She'd sent her parents a letter in the middle of her second year, telling them she'd dropped out because she was pregnant and was living with a former classmate of whom, she was certain, they would never have approved. Phyllis had not indicated a forwarding address, so her family had never known if she'd married, or the sex of the baby. That had been sixteen years ago. Phyllis was past the manipulation, and Rebecca was quickly getting to that point. And if she returned to Charleston it would be to get her children, then leave—for good.

 

Hope sat across
the linen-covered table on the porch, staring at Rebecca's trembling hands. “Are you all right?” Rebecca was attempting to pour the pitcher of ice tea into tall glasses but couldn't.

Rebecca placed the pitcher on the table, shaking her head. “No.”

Reaching across the table, Hope captured her hands. They were moist and trembling. “What's the matter, Sophie Lady?”

Rebecca smiled, blinking back tears. She related her telephone conversation with her mother and the subsequent one with her husband. “Lee knew I wanted my parents to take care of Ashlee and Kyle, yet he let his mother usurp my parents' plans.” She pulled her hands out of Hope's loose grip.

“You left your husband and your children. You can't control what's going on in Charleston as long as you remain here.”

“Are you saying I should go back home?” Rebecca's tone became chilly.

Leaning back against her chair, Hope shook her head. “I'm not saying anything. It's obvious the telephone conversations with your mother and husband have upset you. And the only reason you're telling me about them is because you need a friend right now.”

“I need Dr. Hope right about now.”

Hope shook her head. “If you want Dr. Hope, then you're out of luck. I did not come to McKinnon to do therapy. But if you want a friend, then I'm here for you.” Pushing back her chair, she stood up. “What do you say about McKinnon's Sophisticated Ladies skipping tea and going out to dinner?”

Rebecca smiled. “Yes.”

 

Hope and Rebecca
arrived at The Fish Net in the middle of the dinner rush. Waitresses, shouldering trays with mouthwatering dishes, moved quickly, ladening log-hewed tables with steaming plates of greens, broken crab and okra stew, oysters, barbecued spareribs, pork chops with gravy, and chitlins. Thick slices of buttered corn bread and fluffy biscuits accompanied each entrée.

“This place is really hopping,” Rebecca whispered.

Hope nodded, smiling. “It hops from the time it opens before dawn for breakfast until closing time.”

“Who would get up at dawn to eat breakfast?”

“Fishermen.”

Sighing, Rebecca glanced around the crowded room and wrinkled her nose as if she had caught a whiff of something malodorous. When Hope had suggested going into town to eat, she never would have expected to dine at a place that was literally a hole in the wall. The log cabin housing The Fish Net did not look large enough for twenty people to stand together without touching. It was incredible that they had managed to set up at least twenty tables with just enough space for the waitresses to navigate between each.

“Mercy! It's a shack.”

Hope noted Rebecca's expression and declaration and decided to reserve comment, because what she wanted to say would not come out very diplomatically. She would tell Rebecca that she was a snob, an outsider and—if she had to go there—a Northerner. Although she herself had been born and raised in New Jersey, she was proud of her Southern roots and her Gullah heritage.

How long, she wondered, would it be before her neighbor abandoned her designer wardrobe for the ubiquitous shorts and T-shirt? This evening she wore a stunning Donna Karan pale pink silk sheath dress, matching Jimmy Choo stilettos, and a trendy Kate Spade handbag. Everything about Rebecca Owens screamed money, from her Rolex watch to her top-of-the-line Mercedes-Benz sedan.

“Someone is waving at you, Hope.” Rebecca gestured to her left.

Shifting, she saw Noelle sitting with Theo at a table against the wall. He smiled, pushing back his chair as he rose to his feet. She watched him as he wove his way through the tables. He had changed from his shorts and T-shirt into a pair of white jeans, matching cotton short-sleeve shirt, and a pair of tan leather sandals.

Hope hadn't realized she had been holding her breath. There was something about the white against his red-brown skin, the way he moved, walked, smiled that had her watching him closely. He was strong, masculine, and beautiful.

“Hello again.”

She also liked the deep sound of his voice. Hope gave him a dazzling smile. “Hello yourself.”

Theo could not take his gaze off Hope. He'd returned to her house a second time that day because he'd been unable to stop thinking about her. Reluctantly pulling his gaze away, he smiled at the petite woman dressed to the nines. She reminded him of some West Coast women who put on haute couture just to walk their dogs.

He inclined his head to Rebecca. “Good evening.”

Hope grimaced. She had forgotten her manners. “Theo, Rebecca Owens. Rebecca, Theodore Howell.”

Rebecca flashed a brilliant, dimpled smile and extended her right hand. “My pleasure, Mr. Howell.”

He shook her hand. “Theo.” He released Rebecca's hand, his penetrating gaze returning to Hope. “Would you ladies mind sharing a table with me and my sister instead of waiting?”

Wiggling her toes in the stiletto sandals, Rebecca said, “I'd love to.” Her calves were beginning to burn. It had been a while since she'd worn four inches of heels. She glanced at her neighbor. “Hope?”

“Yes. Thank you, Theo.”

He moved aside, and the two women made their way to the table, where Noelle sat staring at them. She had been the one who'd noticed Hope first, her sullen expression vanishing like a flash of lightning crisscrossing a summer sky. She had spent the morning and afternoon in her room, inconsolable. It had taken some urging, but he'd gotten her to agree to go out to dinner with him. Christian and Brandon were content to spend their time on the beach listening to music.

Theo waited for Hope to sit down beside Noelle, leaving him to share the bench seat with Rebecca.

Hope moved closer to Noelle, their shoulders touching. “Hi.”

Noelle flashed a shy smile. “Hi.”

“Noelle, this is my friend, Rebecca Owens. She's staying in the house next to mine for the summer.”

Rebecca smiled at Noelle, who had dropped her gaze. “Hi, Noelle. I have a daughter who is about your age.”

Noelle appeared suddenly alert. “How old is she?”

“Fourteen.”

“I won't be fourteen until December. Is your daughter here?”

“Noelle,” Theo admonished softly.

“That's okay,” Rebecca countered. “Ashlee and my son, Kyle, are working at a country day camp as counselors-in-training for a month.”

Theo stared at Hope and lifted his eyebrows. It was the most animated he had ever seen his sister. He ignored Rebecca and Noelle's conversation, smiling. “You look very nice in that color,” he said to Hope. She had paired a pink sleeveless linen blouse with a calf-length, leaf green wrap skirt with large pink flowers. Her shoes were black patent leather mules.

“Thank you.” Hope wanted to tell Theo that he looked fabulous in white, but said instead, “Have you ever eaten here?”

He picked up a menu. “No, so you're going to have to help me out. What's good?”

She scanned the selections. Nothing had changed since her last visit. “Everything. However, I'm partial to the barbecued shrimp, country-fried cabbage with ham, and the okra gumbo.”

Rebecca studied the menu next to Theo's right hand. “They have chitterlings.”

“Chitlins,” Theo and Hope chorused before bursting into laughter.

Rebecca managed to look insulted. “I'm going to fix you both when I order them.”

“Good,” Hope and Theo chorused again.

They decided to order half a dozen entrées so each could sample different selections. The busboy placed pitchers of icy sweet tea, frothy beer, and half carafes of white and red wine on the table, along with baskets of corn bread and hot, fluffy biscuits as a waitress took their orders.

Someone had fed the colorful jukebox in an alcove between the kitchen and the main dining area, and the blues of Professor Longhair and Bobby “Blue” Bland blared from the speakers. The jukebox selections had not been updated in more than a decade.

Hope, Rebecca, and Theo fell into an easy camaraderie as they discussed the movies Theo had scripted and the more popular topics covered in her “Straight Talk” column. Theo made certain to include Noelle in the conversation. All talk came to an abrupt end as serving bowls of chitlins, Sea Island okra gumbo filled with pieces of ham hock, fried shrimp, cucumber and tomato salad, barbecued turkey wings, and seafood rice were set on the table, along with a complimentary portion of The Fish Net's celebrated roast pig. Rebecca spooned a small portion from the steaming bowl of chitlins onto her plate. Picking up her fork, she bit into the hog intestines and swallowed, her eyes widening.