Page 25 of That Last Carolina Summer

“Siblicide is characteristic among pelicans, ospreys, egrets, and other birds that lay two eggs. If you see a baby bird that’s fallen from the nest, it may be an intentional propulsion from a sibling.

This behavior may seem cruel to us, especially since neither bird parent will intervene during a sibling squabble, but such actions ensure the highest probability of passing the parents’ genes on to the next generation. ”

Excerpt from the blog The Thing with Feathers

Celeste

WILL AND ANNIE walked at a brisk pace in front of me while I tried to keep up.

I had a blister on my heel from power walking the previous day in new sneakers, and the bandage I’d applied that morning had already fallen off.

It was barely nine o’clock in the morning and the blanket of hot and humid air felt like someone had left the oven door open. “Where’s the fire?” I called out.

“It’s not me, it’s Annie. I think she already knows the way to Ophelia’s house.”

He wasn’t wrong, but I also knew that he was just as excited about visiting the Manigault home. He and Ophelia had bonded over gin rummy, and he was as eager to return as I was for him to be doing something besides spending his summer playing video games.

“Could you please try Phoebe’s phone again? I’m worried because she hasn’t called us back.”

He pulled his iPhone from his back pocket. “You really need to get your own cell phone, Gran. Not having one makes you look old.”

“Believe me, Will. My lack of a cell phone has nothing to do with me looking old.”

He redialed the number I’d been asking him to try since we left my house. After a moment, he shrugged. “Still no answer. Maybe she forgot to charge her phone and it ran out of battery.”

“Probably,” I said, although I sounded as unconvinced as I felt.

When we reached the Manigault house, everything appeared the same as when I’d last seen it, including the empty driveway. Yet the whirring of the cicadas and buzzing insects seemed much louder. It took me a moment to realize that the air-conditioning wasn’t running.

Holding on to Annie’s leash, Will raced up onto the front porch and rang the doorbell. “I don’t hear it,” he called out before pressing it two more times.

For the second time in as many days, I felt that there was something not right at the Manigault house. The morning temperature hovered in the blistering nineties and there wasn’t a house in South Carolina with access to air-conditioning that didn’t have it on full-blast for the entire summer.

“Maybe they’re in the back.” Will ran down the steps, Annie faithfully keeping up as they ran past an enormous camellia bush and disappeared around the corner of the house. By the time I’d made it to the screened porch, my heel throbbed, but I felt relief at the sound of Ophelia’s voice.

I stood still as Phoebe approached. Her T-shirt and athletic shorts were drenched with sweat, her hair pulled behind her head in a high ponytail. A bright blue slash of paint bisected one of her cheeks.

“Celeste, hi. Is everything all right?”

I nodded, fanning myself with my hand in a feeble attempt to cool off. “I was about to ask you the same thing. Will has been calling you from his phone, but it keeps going straight to voice mail.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that. The electricity was shut off—long story—and we can’t get it turned back on until Monday.

Same with the landline. I’m saving my phone battery since I can’t charge it.

I’d planned to go to a coffee shop with air-conditioning and outlets so I can charge and get some work done, but Addie’s not here and I didn’t want to leave my mother. ”

I looked behind her toward the foot of the dock where Elizabeth sat beneath a wide-brimmed straw hat, tucked under the shade of a tall cedar.

An empty chair was placed next to her. She was watching Ophelia paint a small piece of wood that had been placed on top of newspaper in front of the chairs, but splotches of blue on the grass showed where she’d overshot the wood.

Will squatted next to her, holding a squirming Annie who seemed desperate to decorate the dock with blue paw prints.

“What is Ophelia making?” I asked.

“A bird feeder. My aunt Sassy taught me when I was a little girl, and I thought Ophelia could use a project.” She narrowed her eyes as she regarded me. “So, you decided to stop by because I wasn’t answering my phone?”

“I promise I’m not stalking you.” I shrugged. “I’m sorry. I’m overprotective of Liam and Will as well. Ever since Julie disappeared, I can’t help but imagine the worst-case scenario. I suppose because of Ophelia, my protectiveness has netted in the two of you.”

Phoebe kept looking at me, making me uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” I said again. “I’ll pretend to be more aloof where you’re concerned if that might help, but I don’t think I can completely turn it off.”

A half smile lit her face. “No, that’s not necessary. It’s just...”

When she didn’t finish, I said, “It’s just that you’re not used to having anyone check in on you?”

Phoebe shrugged. “Pretty much. Not since Aunt Sassy, anyway. It’s not like I was a wild child or anything. Not like my sister, although our parents didn’t have a clue to most of her exploits. The wildest thing I ever did was skip school one day to read Gone with the Wind .”

“You wicked girl,” I said with a laugh.

“Not quite. I do wish I’d messed around more. Been a little more like Addie.”

“Speaking of which, where’s your sister?” I asked. “Camped out in front of the electric company to be there when they open?”

“Ha. I wish. A friend ,” she said using air quotes, “took her to the garage to collect our mother’s car, and then she picked up an earlier shift at the restaurant because it’s air-conditioned.

Can’t say I blame her.” Phoebe wiped the inside of her elbow across her forehead.

“It’s hotter than Hades out here. I tried to pay the bill online, but their site is down for maintenance until Monday morning.

” Forcing a smile, she said, “Why don’t you go take a seat next to Mother?

It’s in the shade and a little cooler by the water— cooler being relative.

Sort of like comparing Death Valley to hell, but whatever. ”

“I’d love to. Would you mind getting us some water? We ladies of a certain age get dehydrated easily.”

“Sure. How about some lemonade? It’s the fake low-calorie stuff my mother likes, but it’ll do in a pinch. Unless you’d like plain water. Just as a warning, neither one will be cold.”

I took Annie’s leash from Will. “Whatever is easiest for you, Phoebe.”

She turned to her niece. “Ophelia, could you please grab one of those folding tray tables and a chair from the screen porch and set them under the tree next to Mimi?”

“I’ll do it,” Will said, jumping to his feet.

Phoebe and Will walked away together as I took Annie to sit in the shade next to Elizabeth. A great white egret glided down from the sky to the shallow edge of the marsh, posing like a model on stick-thin legs.

“Who are you?” Elizabeth asked.

“I’m Celeste. And this is Annie.”

She smiled at the little dog. “Bailey?”

“Annie,” I corrected.

Elizabeth frowned. “Bailey is Phoebe’s dog, but I give her treats when no one is looking.”

“Really? And why don’t you want anyone to see you doing that?”

She blinked, her eyes showing a clarity I hadn’t seen before. “Because I said I don’t want a dog. Bailey lets me spoil her. Charles says it’s because our other daughter doesn’t let me spoil her.”

“Phoebe?”

“She’s never had much use for me.” She frowned then reached down to pat Annie’s head. When she looked back at me, a cloud had moved over the surface of her eyes. “Who are you?”

“I’m Celeste. Are you the wonderful gardener who tends the camellia bush on the side yard? I bet it’s stunning when it blooms in winter.”

Her eyebrows knitted together over her nose.

“I think I am.” She turned toward the camellias.

“They’re so beautiful, aren’t they? They should have a fragrance to match.

” A weary grin pinched her face. “Such a disappointment, really. You can’t see beauty when you close your eyes.

” Her gaze focused on Ophelia, who was painting a bluebird on the roof of the feeder.

The bird was a whimsical rendition, with oversize eyes and what appeared to be a smiling beak.

But the proportions were all correct, the bird immediately identifiable.

“That’s wonderful, Ophelia,” I said. “Do you need orange paint for the breast? I’ve got some in my studio I can bring next time I see you.”

Ophelia nodded vigorously, her glasses slipping down to the middle of her nose. “Yes, please.”

She tried to slide them up with the back of her wrists since her fingers were coated with wet paint, but she couldn’t get them high enough to stay.

I was about to hoist myself out of my chair when Elizabeth stood.

Bending over her granddaughter, she gently placed the glasses on the bridge of Ophelia’s nose before smoothing the girl’s hair behind her ears.

Elizabeth straightened. “You remind me so much of a little girl I once knew. So smart and talented.”

“What happened to her?” Ophelia asked.

Elizabeth studied her hands and spread the fingers wide before reaching forward and dipping her thumb into the blue paint.

She brought it to her face, examining it as if she wasn’t sure what it was, and then brought it down to the skirt of her dress and smeared it across the fabric.

“She went away.” The grin of a naughty child settled on her face.

Elizabeth pointed at the smear of blue. “She did that.”

Ophelia looked at Elizabeth in confusion. “You did, Mimi.”

Elizabeth’s grin faded, her gaze focused on the blue streak. “I yelled at her, and she went away. Sassy told me to apologize, but I didn’t.” Her lips twisted. “I think I forgot how.”

The sound of a banging door turned our attention toward the back deck.