The Hurricane Sisters (18 page)

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Authors: Dorothea Benton Frank

Tags: #Adult, #Chick-Lit, #Contemporary Women, #Family Life, #Family Saga, #Fiction, #Love Stories, #Romance, #Women's Fiction

BOOK: The Hurricane Sisters
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“Hey!” I said. “How nice to see you!”

“You too! What are all these cars doing here? You having a party without me?”

“Never! Come on in!”

He gave me a kiss on the cheek and walked past me into the house. Then he stood in the center hall, facing the portico and all the people outside. He put his hands on his hips and then in his pockets and then he looked at the floor.

I hadn’t thought a thing about what he might think of this excellent adventure until he showed up. He was obviously dumbfounded.

He turned to face me.

“Ashley? If this isn’t a party, would you mind telling me just what the hell is going on here? You’ve got a yard full of German cars and a pile of people here who are probably close to ten years older than you.”

He was upset and he didn’t like what was happening.

“Well, of course, there’s an explanation.”

He started back toward the front door.

“Tell you what. It’s probably better if I’m not seen being here right now. So I’m going to go down the island to that restaurant—what’s it called?”

“Poe’s? Dunleavy’s? High Thyme or SALT?”

“SALT. That’s the one. So when all these people leave, come there to meet me. I’ll wait. When do you expect this whatever it is to be over?”

“They’ll be gone by nine.”

“One would hope. So you’ll be there at nine.”

“Sure,” I said. I kept trying to smile as though nothing was wrong, but I knew in my heart that he was really pissed. “Maybe nine fifteen.”

Porter couldn’t get out of my house fast enough or get to his car and back it out of my yard fast enough either. Nice, I thought. I knew exactly why he was angry. He was angry because this, that is to say my scheme, might not play well in the media. Did he think CNN was following him around all the time? I mean, he wasn’t like Justin Timberlake or something. Was he always this judgmental? Well, my good mood was gone.

I went around the house, picking up dirty glasses and wadded-up napkins. Tommy stopped me. I noticed that his tip jar was jammed with money. Good for him.

“Somebody made out like a bandit tonight,” I said.

“I guess. What’s wrong with your pretty face?” he said. “Wasn’t that Galloway?”

“Yes, it was him but don’t tell anybody,” I said.

“Oh? Why not?”

“Well, he stopped by to surprise me and when he saw all these people, he completely freaked.”

“He’s a total asshole,” Tommy said.

“Well, think about it from his side. He’s in a weird position, you know. And what we’re doing isn’t exactly legal.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Ashley. You’re not dealing drugs. You’re not running a whorehouse. Nobody’s gambling or getting hurt. Right?”

I looked at Tommy and thought, Right! If Porter gave me a hard time, that’s exactly what I’d tell him.

“Thanks, Tommy! You’re absolutely right!”

“I’m just telling you, this guy’s a self-righteous asshole who thinks he’s God or something.”

“He can be a little arrogant. I’ll give you that. But he’s really a pretty nice guy. And I guess politicians can’t be too careful these days. Remember Sanford?”

“Uh-huh. Okay. Whatever you say.”

I looked at Tommy and thought, You know, he’s really pretty sweet to even notice that I didn’t seem happy. But honestly, just between us? I think he’s jealous.

When everyone left, we cleaned up the house and divided the money. This time we made a little more.

Mary Beth counted up her share. “I think this went great!”

“Here, Tommy.” I slid a pile of twenties across the table. “And give this to Ed.”

“Thanks! Maybe I’ll have a glass of sangria now,” Tommy said. “Is there any left?”

“Not much but go on and help yourself,” Mary Beth said. “These folks drank like fish! How about you, Ash? Want a glass of El Cheapo sangria?”

“No, thanks. I’ve got to go meet Porter.”

“Oh? I didn’t know you had a date with him.”

“Well, I didn’t. He came by earlier and almost had a breakdown when he saw what we were doing. I think he’s upset with me.”

“Why don’t you get going?” Tommy said. “I can help Mary Beth clean up.”

Mary Beth said, “Yeah, well, you’ve got a pile of money in the bank that you didn’t have a month ago. Hey! Why don’t you ask him how you’d go about getting a license for a private club so you could serve alcohol? Don’t the firemen on this island run the island club? ”

“Yes! They sure do! Thanks, Tommy. What are you up to tonight?”

“Like what if you wanted to rent the house for a wedding or something?” Mary Beth said.

We all paused for a moment to consider that.

“Nah,” Mary Beth said, “too complicated. Anyhow, Samir’s boat is in the harbor and he’s invited me to come over to meet some of his friends and sail around.”

My face must have looked odd. The minute she told me what she was doing I started getting anxious for her.

“Just be careful, okay?” I said.

“Ashley? I’m a big girl. I know how to take care of myself.”

“Okay. I know. It’s just that . . .”

“Please, don’t worry. If it gets funky, I’ll leave.”

“Okay. I won’t be late.”

“Me either.”

I looked in her eyes and I wanted to tell her what I knew but I couldn’t. It wasn’t my business and I wasn’t her mother.

“Thanks, y’all!” I said and hurried to the powder room. I ran a brush through my hair and put on some lipstick. Well, I didn’t look like Miss America but I looked just fine considering I’d had a very long day—one that wasn’t over.

All the way down the island, Mary Beth’s plans for the night haunted me. I thought, Sure, if things get too nasty, you can always jump overboard and ride a dolphin back to shore. Better yet, a shark. Good luck, Mary Beth. You’re playing with fire.

I pulled into the parking lot of SALT at Station 22 and gave my keys to the parking attendant.

“Will you be dining at SALT tonight?” he said.

“Yes,” I said.

SALT had its own parking lot. Apparently they had a bit of trouble with people parking in their spaces and then going somewhere else to eat. I mean, who would do that? There was a big sign that said
PARKING FOR PATRONS OF SALT ONLY.
You’d have to be as blind as a bat and raised by wolves to park in their lot if you weren’t going there. Worse, I could eat there every night of the week and the parking guy would ask me the same question, like he’d never seen me before in his whole life. Okay, I was nervous. I’ll admit that. I knew Porter was going to give me total hell and even though I thought I was ready for it, I wasn’t looking forward to it.

I looked up and down Middle Street for oncoming cars and when traffic allowed I scooted across, marveling at how many cars there were these days. It never used to be so crowded but lately it seemed like the island might sink from the weight of them. SALT at Station 22 had just been renovated. The building was a classic island cottage complete with porches that gave it a breezy atmosphere that belied its serious kitchen. I thought the new changes to the interior were so pretty, especially the long bar. Mary Beth and I would stop here for a drink once in a while or brunch on Sundays when we had some extra money. Anyway, we came here often enough to know most of the staff.

I climbed the steps to the porch and spotted Porter sitting at a table with Richard Stoney, one of the owners. It was nine fifteen on the nose.

Richard stood up to greet me.

“Miss Waters, I believe?”

“Hey, Richard. How are you?”

“Old but I’m still game.” He laughed and kissed my cheek.

He was a big flirt but he didn’t really mean anything by it. Well, maybe he did but he was old enough to be my father. Honestly? I think his flirting was just habit. He just liked women and southern guys who were raised right always tried to say something nice.

Porter remained seated, and I could tell immediately from his expression that he wasn’t happy. Well, he’d had a little time to marinate in his irritation.

“What’s wrong?” I said to him.

“I’ll let y’all have your dinner,” Richard said. “Sauvignon blanc?”

“Yep. I mean, yes. Thanks!” I said to Richard and sat down across from Porter.

“I’ll send that over right away,” Richard said and left.

“You’re late,” Porter said.

“No, I’m not. It’s nine fifteen.”

“I said nine, Ashley. I hate being kept waiting.”

“Porter,
you
said nine
. I
said nine fifteen. It’s only fifteen minutes. What’s the big deal?”

“Okay, okay,” he said and looked across the room to see if he knew anyone. “Let’s not quibble over details.”

“Okay. You’re right. It’s not important.” My favorite waitress, Trudy, put my glass of wine in front of me and I said, “Thanks!”

“You’re welcome! I’ll get menus for y’all,” she said and walked away.

“She’s a sweetheart,” I said.

“However,” he said in a hushed voice, “we do have to address what was going on at your house.”

“I guess so. Okay. What about it?”

The night air was gorgeous on the porch. It seemed a shame to ruin the night over something that had already happened. It wouldn’t change anything.

“You don’t seem to understand how you’ve jeopardized my reputation and career. Do you know how it would look in
The State
newspaper? ‘Senator Porter Galloway’s Girlfriend Caught in Raid!’ ”

Did he think of me as his girlfriend? Wow! This was pretty fabulous news!

“I’m sorry,” I said. I
was
really sorry. I didn’t want to jeopardize anything.

“Why in the world would you do something so stupid?”

“Why? I mean, how about none of us make any money? Everyone has a university degree and we all make something like ten dollars an hour because there are no jobs. Porter, I’m an artist and I’ve never been to Rome or Paris. I want to go so bad I can taste it in my mouth. It’s the same with Mary Beth. We have dreams. You know what I’m talking about?”

“Yes, of course I do; but do you think it’s right for you to dream at my expense? You’re so young! Do you have any idea how hard I’ve worked and the sacrifices I’ve made to get this far?”

“Probably a lot?” I thought, He’s probably had to shake a million hands and kiss a million butts.

“Yes, ma’am. A lot. Look, Ashley, I really, really like you. I’ve told you I even think I’m falling in love with you, but there’s not a politician left in this whole country who can weather a big scandal, especially a young guy like me.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” I said and thought, Yes, they do. They get reelected all the time. But there was no point in arguing with someone when they were furious. They won’t hear you. Maisie taught me that. “I’m sorry, Porter. I really am.”

“Just don’t let it happen again, okay?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now let’s eat something. I’m starving. I can’t decide between the scallops and the shrimp. Why don’t you get one and I’ll get the other? Then we can share.”

The verbal spanking was apparently over. His mind had moved on to dinner. Porter liked to order for both of us. I thought it was sweet, even though I wasn’t a big fan of scallops.

“Sure. We’d better get our order in. It’s getting late.”

We ordered and Trudy brought our food out pretty quickly. While we ate, we talked about what it was like to live a politician’s life. Maybe he thought he was giving me an orientation.

“Well, your personal life has to be above reproach, for one thing. I’m sure you’ve heard enough stories about politicians and their zippers to hold you for a while.”

“I’ll say. But gosh, Porter, no one’s perfect.” The list of philandering politicians was a long one, to be sure.

“That’s right. There’s temptation everywhere you look. So it’s very stressful. You have to be so careful who you associate with, who
they
associate with, and who
those
people know. It’s endless. And being a politician’s wife isn’t any easier, you know.”

“Porter Galloway! Are you asking me to marry you?” I laughed.

He smiled and his dimples showed. God! He was so cute!

“Oh sure, three dates and he proposes. Maybe on our next date, but I just think you should know what you’re getting into with me.”

“Was Jackie Kennedy afraid of the White House? No, I don’t think so.”

“Right. Jackie Kennedy?”

“She’s my idol.”

“Oh, well, look, I’m sure my life looks all glamorous and whatever but let me tell you, it’s not. There is tremendous scrutiny and terrible stress. Were you ever a Girl Scout?”

“Yes. Why in the world would . . .”

“People will want to know. And were you a good student?”

“Oh, boy. Yes. I graduated in the top ten percent of my class at the college. Porter, are you playing with me?”

He paused for a moment and took my hand in his.

“No. Ashley? If we go the distance? I’ll take you to Paris and Rome. I swear.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Your innocence is such a beautiful thing to see. I’d love to see your face when you see the great museums. And I understand how impatient you must feel. I really, really do. Ten dollars an hour is tough to live on. But please don’t let what happened tonight repeat itself. It just can’t happen again.”

“Okay,” I said, as I thought, Mary Beth is going to kill me because she was already planning another one. Needless to say, I decided not to ask him about getting a license.

When the food arrived, I sort of devoured my half of my entree, which wasn’t a big portion. I had not eaten all day and I was feeling a little light-headed. Trudy brought me another glass of wine and I reminded myself to sip it. Porter ate all his scallops and then reached across and took my plate.

“Sorry about the scallops. I forgot to share. It was delicious. We can order you something else if you want. I just want to taste your shrimp.”

“No, thanks. I’ve had plenty.”

He pointed to the french fries on my plate that was now his plate.

“Here, have some fries. They’re good!”

“No, that’s okay,” I said and ate them anyway.

“Did y’all save some room for dessert?” Trudy said as she picked up our plates and handed us menus. “We’ve got homemade donuts with cinnamon vanilla ice cream. And, of course, all the other things on the menu.”

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