Page 26 of That Last Carolina Summer

“I think we have everything,” Phoebe said, emerging from the screen porch, Will waving a bag of Cheetos behind her.

“I found these, too,” he shouted, jumping from the middle step down to the ground.

I watched as Elizabeth took an unsteady step. “Ophelia, sweetie, could you please help your grandmother back to her chair?”

She took Elizabeth’s hand and led her back, her grandmother shuffling next to her.

Phoebe approached with a tray table and folding chair, noticing the bright blue slash on Elizabeth’s dress as she set them up in front of us. “Oh, no. What happened?”

Elizabeth looked at her with confusion and then smiled softly. “You came back.”

“Of course I came back. I only went inside for a moment to get us something to drink.”

“The paint will come out,” I said. “I’ve got something at my house, and I’ll bring it with the orange paint for Ophelia.”

I took a plastic cup of lemonade from the tray Will had set on the table and handed it to Elizabeth. She studied it as if wondering why it was in her hand, and I helped her bring it to her mouth. When she was done, I replaced the cup on the table between us.

Phoebe sat down on the edge of her seat, watching me closely. “My mother is a very take-charge person. She usually doesn’t need help to do anything.”

“I understand. You must have learned that from her.”

“I don’t...” She stopped, reconsidering her words. “That’s not true,” she said.

“She needs help now but doesn’t know how to ask.”

“But if she could, she’d ask Addie.”

“The child who could do no wrong.”

Phoebe frowned. “How would you know that?”

“I’ve been around for a long time. I raised a daughter and two grandchildren and spent years with the elderly. I feel as if I’ve earned a degree in family dynamics by now. It’s just not that unusual for one sibling to be so bright and shiny that their parents are blinded to their child’s faults.”

“Look at the...” Elizabeth struggled to find the word. Her attention was focused on a ruby-throated hummingbird circling the blooms of a midnight marvel red hibiscus.

“Hummingbird,” Phoebe offered. She turned to her mother, eager to redirect the conversation. “You always said that they’re one of the reasons to love summer. They’re amazing little creatures. So tiny, but they manage to fly five hundred miles across the Gulf of Mexico during migration.”

Elizabeth scowled. “I know that.” She looked down at her hands. “Where are my rings? I put them on this morning, and now they’re gone.” She turned to Phoebe. “Did you steal them?”

Phoebe’s nose flared. “No, Mother. I didn’t. And you didn’t put them on this—”

“You are a liar!” Elizabeth shouted, making Will and Ophelia turn to look.

“Elizabeth,” I said softly. “I think I saw them on your dressing table. After you finish your lemonade, we can go find them together.”

Elizabeth’s lips twitched with her next words then stopped as soon as they were forgotten. She returned to watching the frenetic movements of the hummingbird as he flew over Ophelia in her red shirt before heading back to the flowers.

“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you,” I said softly.

Phoebe frowned and turned away.

“Ophelia,” Phoebe said, “why don’t you take Will to the shed and help him choose some wood scraps so he can make another feeder? You can show him how.”

“I don’t need a girl—”

I gave Will my warning glance.

“Whatever. Come on, Ophelia.”

When the children had gone, Phoebe glanced at her mother, whose head beneath her straw hat was now lowered toward her chest as she snored softly. Phoebe took a deep breath and sank back into her chair.

I handed her a glass of lemonade.

“Thank you,” she said. “I only wish it was something stronger. It’s already been a long day, and it’s still morning.”

Will’s phone began to vibrate on the ground where he’d left it. It stopped and then started again.

“Should I answer it?” Phoebe asked.

“No. He’s a ten-year-old boy so it’s not an emergency. He’ll be back shortly and can return the call then. It’s probably a friend in the neighborhood who wants to play Xbox, and I’d much rather he make a bird feeder.”

Phoebe smiled and closed her eyes as she sat back in her chair, her fingers clinging tightly to the arms as if expecting to fall. “Please don’t let me go to sleep. I’m afraid you wouldn’t be able to wake me for a week.”

“You poor thing. You’ve had to deal with a lot since you’ve been home. Have you thought about what you’ll do with your mother once you go back to Oregon?”

She attempted a laugh. “I haven’t figured out what I’m going to do with her tomorrow. My priority is figuring out how to pay the electricity bill and what kind of medical insurance she has. Then I can move on to the next thing.”

“Can your sister help?”

This time she did laugh. “I’ve asked Addie to do one thing on Monday. If she follows through, I’ll give her a new assignment. I don’t want to overwhelm her.”

I grinned, although I was fairly certain she hadn’t meant to be funny. “Have you had a chance to do anything fun since you’ve been home?”

She tilted her head back as the shadow of a pelican crossed her face.

“I haven’t had a chance to do anything but put out fires, it seems. Not that I can think of any fun things, anyway.

Even as a kid, I didn’t really go out and do things.

Everything I wanted was right here in my backyard.

” She indicated the sea of Spartina grass without opening her eyes.

“Or if the weather was bad, Aunt Sassy and I would watch old movies together. That was as much fun as I could handle.”

She scrunched her nose. “I was such a nerd. Even in the summers when all the neighborhood kids would hang out together at the Pitt Street Pharmacy soda fountain or on the beach at Isle of Palms, or head out on the water on boats, I stayed here while Addie went out and had fun. I was probably waiting for my mother to notice that I was the good daughter.”

I wanted to let her know that self-pity didn’t look good on her regardless of how warranted, but my focus was instead on something she’d said. “I’m just realizing that Julie and Addie might be about the same age.”

“Despite acting like a sixteen-year-old, she’s actually thirty-five.”

“Julie would be the same age. They might have known each other.”

“Addie knew everybody, but I can’t say she was friends with everyone.

I hung out with her group sometimes, and there wasn’t a Julie that I can recall.

You can ask her, though. Even if she didn’t know her, I’m sure she and her friend group would have talked about Julie’s disappearance since they were the same age.

But she never mentioned anything to me, and my overprotective parents kept me in the dark.

I wasn’t even allowed to have anyone spend the night except for my best friend, Mary-Simms McSwain, and that’s only because my mother and her mother were friends.

We’d stay up all night and watch old movies. Wild and crazy, I know.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I always kept Liam on a tight rein because I thought that, of my two grandchildren, he would be the one to give me the most trouble. Which meant I was more lenient with Julie. I let her go to parties, and I gave her a later curfew because she was older but really it was because I never expected her to get into any trouble.”

I noticed Phoebe watching me, a sympathetic look in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me, too. My point is that parenting isn’t black-and-white. You can read a million how-to books and still have no idea what you’re doing. Your mother had her reasons for raising you and Addie how she did. I promise that it wasn’t to torture you.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

I watched the hummingbird return to a feast of red petals, restlessly pumping its tiny wings so fast that they seemed invisible.

“After fights with my own mother, my grandmother would tell me that I only had myself to blame. She believed that before we are born, the angels allow us to select our parents. That’s how we end up with the parents we need.

Even though it seems we spend most of our lives rethinking our choice. ”

Will’s phone began to vibrate again. Phoebe stood and retrieved it. “I can’t listen to that anymore—it’s making me anxious. I’ll take it to him so at least he can tell his friend he’s unavailable.”

As she headed toward the shed, we both heard the sound of tires crunching on the driveway. Changing directions, she said, “Could be Addie. Let me go see.”

She disappeared around the side of the house, returning a few moments later followed by a familiar face.

“Liam,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. Is Will with you? I’ve been calling his phone for over an hour, and he’s not picking up.”

Phoebe held up the phone, her cheeks reddened from more than the day’s heat. “Sorry. I was just bringing it to him. We didn’t think it was an emergency.”

“It’s not your fault, Phoebe,” I said. “I told her to ignore it. I couldn’t imagine what could be so urgent in a boy’s life during summer vacation.”

Liam was dressed for work in a long-sleeved shirt and began unbuttoning the cuffs to roll them up. “Damn, it’s hot. Apologies, ladies,” he said as an afterthought. “I was looking for you, Gran.”

“For me? What’s wrong?”

“I was hoping you could manage the front desk at the office for the rest of the day. Stephanie was riding her bike to work this morning and hit a pothole. She didn’t break anything, but she’s a bit battered, so I sent her home. It’s Saturday, so I’ll only need you for a few hours.”

We both turned at the sound of something crashing onto the dock. Phoebe was already bending down to pick up the plastic pitcher and cups along with the tray that she had knocked over. Elizabeth was still sitting, awakened now by the commotion.

“Are you all right?” Liam rushed toward Phoebe and straightened the table.