Lily of the Springs (40 page)

“I reckon we could do that.” He stood at the picture window, staring out at the ocean.

“Great!” I smiled, relieved at how easy that had been. “I’ll go make sure the girls are getting ready. You’ve already showered, I see. It’ll only take me a few minutes. I’ll just leave my hair wet, and pull it up in a pony-tail. Hey, should I wear the new pink-flowered sundress I bought in that beach shop the other day?”

“Yeah, why not? But wait a minute, Lil.”

Already half-way down the hallway, I hesitated. “Yeah, what?”

He turned away from the window. “I think we should head back tomorrow.”

“What?” As his meaning hit me, my heart dropped. I returned to the living room. “But Jake, we’ve got two more days here.”

“Jinx needs us, Lily Rae,” he said quietly. “She’s worried sick about Paul John, and she’s got them twins to deal with. She told me she’s paying a babysitter fifty cents an hour to watch them so she can go to the hospital. And you know she can’t afford that. I think the decent thing to do would be to go home and help her out.”

My mouth dropped open, and I spoke without thinking, “Well, can’t she just take the twins to her mother’s in Russell Springs? For the life of me, I don’t understand why she doesn’t just move on back there, anyway!”
He frowned. “Now, you know damn well why she doesn’t. She’s got that job in the front office at the iron factory, and she needs it. Lonnie’s pension doesn’t pay for jack-shit, and you know it.”

“Well, I know for a fact that the sewing factory in Russell Springs is hiring because Norry has been working there for the summer. So, it seems to me it would make sense for Jinx to move where she has family, and that way, she doesn’t always have to depend on us, and maybe then we could have a decent week’s vacation to ourselves.” Even as I spoke, I knew how mean and selfish it sounded. But I just couldn’t help it.

Jake’s face had turned to stone. “Well, I reckon it’s too much to ask for you to stop thinking about yourself for a minute, and instead, concentrate on that poor sick baby in the hospital. But hell! It’s not one of yours, is it? You know what? Forget it.” He turned back to the window. “We’ll stay here until Saturday just as we planned. Have ourselves a fun old time here in Myrtle Beach, and just let Jinx fend for herself. And maybe we’ll get lucky, and Paul John won’t up and die while we’re gone.”

I knew he was manipulating me, but even as I realized it, my cheeks burned with shame. I thought of that poor little boy in a strange hospital bed, burning up with fever. It reminded me of Charles Alton, and the anguished look on Mother’s face that sweltering May night as she rocked his lifeless body in her arms.

I stood there a moment, staring at Jake’s broad shoulders covered in blue cotton. He’d joined the factory boxing team last winter, and his body showed the effects of daily work-outs in the company gym. But his body wasn’t the only thing about him that had changed in the past few years. A dramatic change had come over him after Lonnie Foley’s death. He’d cut down on the drinking, limiting himself to a beer or two on the weekends. He’d become a decent husband and father. He’d learned to think about others and what they needed, rather than his own needs. In short, my husband had finally grown up.

This vacation, for example. He’d saved for two years for it, faithfully putting money aside so we could really treat ourselves. And he’d actually been having a good time, playing in the ocean with the kids. Taking them to the miniature golf course nearby in the evenings. Paying attention to me, too. We’d made love almost every night here, and he’d been unbelievably sweet and romantic.

And now, here I was, acting like a spoiled brat because we had to end our vacation a couple of days early.

I approached him quietly and slipped my arms around his waist, resting my head on his back. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “You’re right, Jake. We’ll go home tomorrow.”

***

As Jake checked the oil, I put the last bag into the car and went back into the cottage to tell the girls to go to the bathroom so we could get on the road. It was then that I realized Kathy Kay wasn’t in the cottage.

I stood in front of Debby Ann, my heart pounding. “Where’s your sister?”

Debby Ann shrugged and didn’t answer. She was still sulking because we were leaving early, having parked herself on the couch while me and Jake packed up, and there she still sat with her arms folded, an expression on her face like a mule eating briars.

I lost my temper. “Damn it, Debby Ann, you’d better wipe that frown off your face before I do it for you!
Answer
me! Do you know where your sister went?”

“Down to the beach,” Debby snarled, eyes shooting daggers. “What do
you
care? You hate us anyway!”

I ran out the door. “
Kathy Kay
!”

Oh, Lord! What if she went into the water and a big wave washed her out to sea? That child wasn’t afraid of anything. Why, it was even possible she’d wandered toward the highway. Oh,
God
!

On the edge of panic, I stumbled past the swaying sea grass on the dunes, my gaze sweeping the crowded beach for a tow-headed little girl.
Oh, God, oh, God, oh God…

And then I heard it.

“
Mommy, Mommy
!”

I turned to my left. And there she was, Kathy Kay, running toward me, as fast as she possibly could in the sand, blond curls streaming behind her like a mermaid in a fairy-tale. Her little face was as bright as the orb of sun beaming down out of a crystal blue sky.

“Look, Mommy! I found it!” she shouted gleefully. “
I found my starfish
!”

I ran to her, fell to the sand and pulled her into my arms. Thankfully, I buried my face in her silky, sunshine-scented hair. “Oh, honey, you scared me to death. Don’t you
ever
do that to me again!” I pulled away to look into her eyes. “You hear me? You don’t run off like that again.”

“I’m sorry, Mommy.” She looked contrite, yet, still excited. “But I couldn’t leave ‘til I found my starfish for Paul John. And
look
! Here it
is
!”

She held out a small hand and uncurled her fingers.

It was tiny, not more than an inch wide—but Kathy Kay
had
found her starfish.

August 1962

“
K
atydid, would you look at who’s getting out of that fancy Cadillac? If that’s not Jewell May Foley, I’ll eat my hat.” I stared at a gangly plain-faced woman in an expensive-looking tailored suit.

Katydid pulled into a parking space at the Holiday Inn in Somerset. She turned off the ignition and tossed me an amused grin. “Eat your Jackie pillbox? I think
not
! And yes, that
is
Jewell. She’s a high-end lawyer in Louisville, I hear. Still single and proud of it, I bet.”

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me at all—not the high-end lawyer part—the fact that she’s still single.” I adjusted the rearview mirror so I could re-apply my lipstick. “Didn’t the boys call her Mud Fence back in high school?”

“Yeah.” Katydid reached for her pocketbook on the seat between us. “And it looks like she’s still crying all the way to the bank. You ready?”

I smoothed a hand over my new hair-cut. It had cost me $20 to get it cut in a bob like Jackie Kennedy’s—and Jake would just die if he ever found out I’d skimmed off the grocery money to pay for it. But it wasn’t every day a girl went to her 10-year high school reunion, and I wanted to knock Chad’s socks off when he saw me. If he was even here.

“Do I look okay?” I asked Katydid, adjusting the bow on my sage-green hip-banded dress.

“Honey, you look like you just stepped out of Vogue.” Katydid opened the car door. “Come on. Let’s go in.”

My heart raced with anticipation as we walked across the parking lot toward the hotel lobby. The flared hem of my dress swirled playfully just at my knees, and despite the heat of the afternoon, I was glad I’d worn pantyhose. Not only did they make my legs look nicely tanned and trim, I could walk in my black leather stilettos without looking like I was in agony—which I was, but not as bad as I’d be if I were in them bare-footed.

Jake had refused to come with me to the reunion. Not that I’d been surprised about that. And to tell the truth, I was glad he hadn’t. How else would I get a chance to get a few minutes alone with Chad?

If he was here.

“I just can’t believe Jinx isn’t going to be here,” I said as we stepped into the lobby, then immediately wanted to bite my tongue. I’d seen the tightening of Katydid’s mouth at the mention of Jinx.

My two friends had had some kind of falling-out this summer, but neither one would talk to me about it. I’d tried my best to get them to work it out, whatever the problem was, but neither one would budge. So, I tried to just leave it alone, hoping that sooner or later, they’d patch up their quarrel. Meanwhile, I sure hated being caught in the middle of them. And having to be careful about bringing up one of their names in front of the other.

Inside the lobby, a sign on an easel directed us to Ballroom # 1. As we neared the room, I thought I might faint, my heart was pounding so hard.
What if he isn’t here? What if he
is
? What if he’s here, and he acts like he doesn’t even remember me? Or worse—what if he really
doesn’t
remember me
?

I stepped into the room with Katydid and saw a large crowd had already gathered. Former classmates stood in small groups, sipping punch from tiny cut-glass cups and catching up with each other, contributing to a loud buzz of conversation throughout the cavernous room. Most of the faces were familiar, yet, ten years had made a difference. Teeth had been capped, scrawny bodies had filled out. There were new hairstyles and modern clothing, stilettos instead of bobby sox and saddle shoes, Italian suits instead of plaid shirts and blue jeans. Crew-cuts were a thing of the past, now replaced by “the duck’s ass,” a hairstyle made popular by Edd Byrnes’s character, Kookie, on “77 Sunset Strip.” The women, though, like me, were all trying to look like Jackie with their pillbox hats, flared skirts and three-quarter-inch sleeves.

I was making my way through the crowd when a familiar voice called out from my left. “Oh, my
lord
! As I live and breathe, it’s Lily Rae Foster!”

I recognized the voice immediately, even before I spied the plump brown-haired woman with the Texas-sized grin. “
Daisy
!” I cried out in delight. “I was
hoping
you’d be here!”

“Wild horses wouldn’t keep me away, honey!” Daisy held out a pair of fleshy arms. “Come here and give me a
hug
!”

I embraced my best friend from high school, regretting that we hadn’t kept in touch like I’d always thought we would--just the usual Christmas cards and an occasional letter. After graduation, Daisy had married Lawless Russell and moved to Indiana. Three kids later, her face was just as cute as it had ever been, but she’d put on about 30 extra pounds since high school. Lawless was with her, and I saw he’d put on some weight, too. Apparently, Daisy had learned how to cook, something she’d always sworn she’d do only when Hell froze over.

“You’ve just
got
to come up and visit us in May next year, Lily Rae,” Daisy gushed, brown eyes dancing with excitement. “Law and I would just be tickled to death. You know, there’s nothing in the world like being in Indianapolis during the Indy 500 madness. It’ll be a blast.”

“That’s what I hear.” I nodded, adding, “You know, my sister, Norry, just got a job with the Speedway people.”

A buxom woman with a platinum blond bouffant caught my attention as she edged her way through the crowd with two cups of punch. I focused on the woman’s name-tag, and my eyes widened. It was Justine Franklin (nee) Duba, whom I remembered as a skinny little wallflower with bad teeth, so timid she flinched when anyone looked at her cross-eyed.

Daisy saw the blonde, too, but instead of remarking about the startling transformation, she frowned, her eyes filling with sadness. “Isn’t it just
awful
about poor Marilyn Monroe?” she whispered, leaning toward me as if she were sharing a horrifying secret. “You know, she was
naked
as a
jaybird
when they found her. Doesn’t that just beat all?”

I was still trying to adjust to the quick change of subject when I heard his voice, and my heart gave a jolt.

“Lily Rae?”

Hot blood rushed to my cheeks. Slowly, I turned and looked up into the expressive brown eyes of Chad Nickerson.

***

It was awkward at first—exchanging small talk with my first love, especially with those knowing eyes of his peering into my soul, or so it seemed.

I told him about my daughters and life in Bowling Green, barely mentioning Jake except to say he worked at the iron factory, and that’s why he wasn’t here. Chad told me about the latest golf course he’d taken over in Pawley’s Island and the house they were having built in Murrells Inlet overlooking the marsh.

Not even close to where we’d been staying two summers ago.

He was as handsome…no,
more
handsome than he’d been in high school. His shoulders, under an expensive-looking suit jacket—probably Italian—were much broader than I remembered, and it was clear by his trim waistline that he kept in good shape, probably with all that golfing he did. His dark brown hair, though no “duck’s ass,” was longer than he used to wear it, revealing a natural curl I’d never noticed before. And when he smiled…yes, there were those same deep dimples I’d loved to trace with a finger back in the old days.

He spoke with pride about his three children, his eyes sparkling as he described each of them. I wondered what it would be like to see Jake that excited about his two girls. They were both growing like weeds. Debby Ann would be starting 4
^th
grade in the fall, and Kathy Kay was mad with excitement at going off to kindergarten. Not that Jake barely noticed what was going on with his daughters. I bet Chad, as busy as he was with his golf courses, never had “something come up” so he couldn’t be there for his kids.