Porch Lights (35 page)

“What do you think?”

By six o’clock that night, all the shutters on my house, Steve’s house, and Deb’s house had been closed. And Buster, bless his heart, had gone to Lowe’s and bought a generator for the refrigerator and the kitchen lights in case we lost power. Everyone’s porch furniture, except ours, had been brought inside, hanging baskets had been taken down, and while we worked like beavers to prepare our homes for the worst, we stayed glued to the Weather Channel on television. It appeared to me that the one-eyed evil Candace was headed directly for Sullivans Island.

Earlier, around four o’clock, I’d parked in my driveway and there was Buster, holding the ladder for Steve. Steve was pulling the shutters together and flipping the latches to keep them closed. I was coming in from the grocery store with four cases of water, a case of protein bars for emergencies, and steaks for dinner. Red meat was always designated for dinners of importance.

“The Piggly Wiggly was a madhouse!” I said. “People were grabbing for bread and milk like the Apocalypse is coming.”

“I expect it was crazy. Lowe’s was crazy too. People piling up sheets of plywood to cover windows and I don’t know what all,” Buster said. “This darn Candace has everybody all worked up.”

It was true. People in the checkout lines had panic all over their faces. I said, “Well, Buster? What if the storm blows up to Cape Hatteras or out to sea? All this worry and work for naught?”

“Then we’ll open the shutters and rehang the hammocks. I’d rather us be safe than sorry.”

“You’re right, of course. And you and Steve are awfully good to help Deb get her house ready too.”

“Just trying to help out where I can.”

“Still. It’s really nice of y’all to do it.”

When I passed behind him, I could see he was smiling, even from the back of his head because his ears moved in a certain way when he did. I remembered then that I had always loved that, the fact that his ears moved but also that he smiled so honestly and with his whole face. It was one of his many endearing qualities that I had almost forgotten.

I also noticed as I unloaded my trunk that Jackie’s SUV was almost completely packed. I wondered how the squabble with Charlie was going. I would find out as soon as I went inside. The house was quiet. I went to Jackie’s room and peeked in. She was lying down, probably trying to get rested up so she’d have the strength for the long drive. I didn’t want to disturb her, so I closed her door gently and went to find Charlie, who was in his room lying on his bed reading.

“These puppies are going to miss you,” I said and patted his comforter. “If they start yelping in the night, what should I do?”

No answer.

“Well, Charlie baby? Are you going to talk to me?”

He looked up at me with those blue eyes of his right through those bangs that needed another trim, and I thought I might burst into tears. Charlie had been weeping, because his eyes were bloodshot, but his jaw was set like a steel trap. Charlie McMullen was pissed off in purple, paisley, plaid, lavender, and puce. I had never seen him so upset.

“Glam? I’m so mad at her I could
kick
something. I just want to
kick
something!”

“Oh, come here to me,” I said. “I know just how you feel. I really do.”

I put my arms around him to give him a hug, and he was almost rigid. I rubbed his back like I used to do for Jackie when she was a little girl, upset about something, and eventually she would relax. After I made a whole lot of little circles on his back, Charlie finally sighed and leaned in against me.

“She just doesn’t understand I’m not kidding. I mean it.”

“Who’s she? The cat’s mother?” I said and finally got a smirk if not a smile.

“Right. Can’t you talk to Mom?”

“Charlie. I will. But I have to tell you sweetheart, I don’t think it’s going to do much good. She’s pretty determined to get out of here ahead of the storm. And the storm looks like it’s going to be a pretty nasty one.”

“Then shouldn’t we all be together? I mean, should you and Guster be alone?”

“What do you mean? That we’re too old and frail to handle a little wind and rain?”

“No, I just—”

“Well, if and when the storm hits and starts going really crazy, I’ll try to remember to bring Guster in the house.” Then I laughed a little and finally got a real smile out of him. “I think the plan is for Dr. Steve and Miss Deb to ride out the storm with us.”

“So if something happens you have a doctor here?”

“No, so that we’ll have four people to play cards or Monopoly! Now, do you want to help me get dinner on the table or what?”

“Okay.” He slid off his bed and followed me out of the room.

From the corner of my eye I saw him wave a fist at Jackie’s door and thought he might be very angry with his mother, but I was actually glad to see he had a temper. If there was anything that had bothered me about Charlie’s behavior since he’d been here, it was that he seemed to have turned into a bit of a Goody Two-shoes. I’d told myself he was so well behaved because he had been traumatized and then depressed over losing his father and perhaps he didn’t want to add anything more to Jackie’s burden. He had seemed like a little old monk just going through the motions of saying and doing the right thing. The very fact that he allowed himself to lose his temper meant that he was coming back to normal. He was healing and wasn’t afraid that a disagreement with his mother would upset her. He cared about himself again. As much as I disliked the fight, I took every other aspect as a good sign.

“Why don’t you set the dining room table, Charlie? And since we’re having steaks, let’s use my bistro dishes. We can use my grandmother’s plates for dessert.”

For the rest of the time I would use every opportunity to tutor Charlie on the details and the minutiae that made what seemed to be an ordinary existence sparkle like a diamond. Always save the best for last. And when my granddaughter arrived on this earth, I’d do the same for her.

Soon we were enjoying our last happy hour on the porch, paper lanterns and all, and watching the ocean charge in toward the beach as the storm grew nearer. Despite the hurricane and the fact that Jackie and Charlie were leaving me, I had tried to set a cheerful stage, except for my outfit, which was a long purple linen tunic over purple shantung silk capri pants with a long chunky necklace made of very large black and red plastic beads and my red strappy sandals. It was somber but not morose. And not that anyone
really
needs to know this, but by the mercy of the Virgin Mother, I didn’t need Spanx for this ensemble to hang right.

The skies were ominous but not so terrifying. However, the waters of the Atlantic were churning and darkening. Each incoming wave roared, pounded the shore, and then whooshed in, leaving a trail of silvery foam when the ocean pulled back to do it all over again. We had witnessed this panorama so many times before, and all the noise from the exploding surf was exciting, not particularly frightening. This was merely Candace’s calling card. Candace herself had yet to arrive.

“Come on up here, Dr. Steve, and let us buy you a drink!” Buster called out.

Steve slipped through the oleanders and came toward our house just as the rain began to fall. He was wearing a summer parka with a hood, probably because he wanted to share grill duty with Buster.

Buster and I were sipping light gin and tonics with lots of lime. Charlie, still forlorn, was on his second cherry Coke, and Jackie was drinking weak decaffeinated iced tea. The hors d’oeuvre that night was a platter of peel ’n’ eat boiled shrimp with a tangy tomato-based cocktail sauce. Of course I had soaked washcloths in strong lemon water, wrung them out, rolled them up like little sausages, and placed them in a sweetgrass basket on the table. Shrimp prepared and consumed in this manner were better enjoyed in your mouth than remembered all night long on your hands. They were the same towels I used for oyster roasts, bought by the dozen for a pittance. And though wet naps got the job done, they didn’t offer nearly the same cachet as a cool scented cloth. Like ants, wet naps are for picnics. My opinion.

“What can I get for you?” Buster said to Steve.

Steve quickly looked to see what each of us was having and said, “Y’all drinking gin and tonics?”

“Yes, indeedy-do we are,” I said and thought, Oh, aren’t you slick tonight, Annie?

“Well, I think a gin and tonic would hit the spot. Thanks. You look very nice tonight, Annie.”

“Why, thanks, Steve,” I said and looked at Buster.

“What?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes at him, thinking that getting a compliment out of this man required a crowbar.

“So what do you think about this storm?” Jackie asked Steve, which I thought was interesting as they hadn’t even said hello yet.

“I think there are still so many variables that we don’t really know. Hopefully it takes a hook to the east and misses us completely!” he said. Buster handed him his drink. “Thanks, cheers! So, Miss Jackie? Here’s to a safe trip back to Brooklyn and to your swift return.”

Even in the fading light, I saw Jackie blush and thought, Well, good! She is a little sweet on him and maybe that will bring her back to us even sooner.

“Thanks, Steve,” she said.

“Stella and Stanley are going to miss you, Charlie. But don’t worry, I told them to expect you back by Thanksgiving.” No reply from Charlie. “Hey, why so glum, chum?”

If he could say “Why so glum, chum?” I didn’t feel so bad about “Yes, indeedy-do.” It only meant that our inner dorks were comfortable around each other.

“I don’t think it’s safe to travel in a hurricane,” Charlie said.

“Of course it’s safe to travel or your mother wouldn’t make the trip,” Buster said.

“I’d never take a risk with you, Charlie,” Jackie said. “You should know that.”

“Whatever,” he said.

Charlie had renewed his fervor for his DS and was deeply involved in a game that killed aliens on a foreign planet in another solar system. Normally, I might have encouraged him to put it away, especially since it was his last night with us. But his mood was so dark that I decided to be silent on the topic. Especially since Jackie didn’t seem annoyed by it. Suddenly he got up to go inside the house.

“Where are you going, son?” Jackie asked.

“I just have to check something. I’ll be right back.” He left the porch and, sure enough, didn’t let the screen door slam behind him.

Just a few minutes later, the screen door opened. “Anybody home?” Deb had come in through the kitchen, and she strode out onto the porch.

“Hey, Miss Deb!” Buster said. “Can I fix you a drink?”

“Oh, sure! Whatever y’all are having is good for me. So are we having a hurricane party? Getting ready for Candace?”

I had always loved and would always love that she felt so welcome that she could just glide through my door and make herself at home.

“Ready for her to turn out to sea,” I said and gave her a hug.

“I brought a chocolate pecan pie I made for Charlie. It’s in the kitchen. And it looks fabulous, if I say so myself!”

“That’s so sweet of you, Miss Deb!” Jackie said. “Charlie is sure gonna miss your pies!”

“Well, then, you’ll just have to bring him back all the time so I can fatten him up! Now, Buster? Are we really worried about this silly hurricane or what? It looks pretty bad on the news.”

“No, but I think it would be a good idea for all of us to be together until it passes,” Buster said. “What do y’all think? I mean, Deb, if you’re over there in your house all by yourself, all we’re gonna do is worry about you. You too, Steve.”

“That’s true,” Steve said. “I think it’s a great idea. We can just lock up our places and wait it out.”

“Oh, Buster! You are too sweet!” Deb said. “Hey! What about your house up in Murrells Inlet?”

“The landlord battened down all the hatches. Besides, the only thing I’ve got up there is some fishing tackle and my Green Egg. It would take a helluva lot more than a hurricane to damage that thing!”

I said, “Y’all? Buster’s got a generator all ready to flip on that will keep the refrigerator cold, and we have the grill. What do you say? I think our house has weathered more hurricanes than almost any house on this island.”

Did I say
our
house?

“That’s probably true,” Jackie said.

“I was thinking of a Scrabble marathon,” I said.

“Well, Mom? That’s sure better than Twister!”

Jackie started laughing, and when I recalled what Twister was I started to laugh too.

“Come on, let’s get dinner going,” I said. “The steaks are all seasoned and waiting on the counter, and I’m sure the potatoes are done by now.”

On the way into the house, Buster took my arm to let the others go ahead. “We’ll be right along,” he said. “I just want to have a word with Annie.”

“No problem,” Jackie said.

“I’ll get the grill fired up,” Steve said.

I thought, What in the world?

“Listen, Annie, this hurricane is supposed to make landfall around four in the morning, and it’s headed straight for somewhere between here and Myrtle Beach. It’s a category three right now. The winds are over a hundred and twenty miles an hour. Could go much higher.”

“Oh, my God, Buster! That’s terrible!”

“Remember it stalled around the Bahamas yesterday? It picked up steam. It will probably slow down a lot if it passes over any piece of land, but if it rolls in as predicted, I don’t think I want Jackie and Charlie on the road until it dies out.”

“Absolutely not! I agree one hundred percent!”

“And listening to the National Weather Service, it looks like the rest of this hurricane season is going to be especially active.”

“Good grief!”

“What I’m saying is that I’d like to stay here and make sure everything is all right. You know, I want to know that you’re safe and the house is safe and all that.”

“And all that?”

“Ah, hell! You’re not gonna make this easy, are you?”

“Make
what
easy, Buster?”

“I want to come home, Annie. I still love you. So much. I want to come home. I do. Really.”

I looked into his beautiful eyes, his bottom lids lined in red from age and all the deep crow’s-feet around the sides of them from hours in the sun. I still loved him too. My heart was screaming, Yes! Come home! Stay with me! But my mouth had other words in mind.