Page 34 of That Last Carolina Summer

There was something to be said for knowing someone as long as Mary-Simms and I had known each other. We used to tell people we were sisters, which worked since she and I looked more alike than Addie and I did.

“We have so much catching up to do,” I said. “Maybe we could meet in the back corner booth at Carolina’s for lunch, just like old times?”

Her face fell. “I wish. Carolina’s closed a while back, and I miss it every day. But yes to lunch.”

Addie entered the kitchen, her hair wet from a shower, her face already starting to sweat, something that gave me more satisfaction than it should have.

She stood at the kitchen sink and peered out the window toward the backyard.

“Why is Mother outside without a hat?” She turned her head, spotting my friend for the first time. “Mary-Simms. It’s been a while.”

“It has been. Delia told me to say hey if I ran into you.”

Delia was Mary-Simms’s older sister who’d been on the same beauty pageant circuit as Addie but was now the morning anchor on the local television newscast. They’d been more competitors than friends, and this was the first time I’d wondered how Addie felt about Delia’s success.

The realization left me feeling gut-punched on Addie’s behalf.

“Well, tell her I said hey back.” Addie headed toward the screen porch where she snatched Mother’s wide-brimmed hat from the hat rack. She let the porch door snap shut behind her as we turned to watch her go.

Liam was on his way back from the dock to the porch. He said something to her in greeting, but she waltzed past him as if she hadn’t heard.

“Oh, my.” Mary-Simms smacked her lips. “Is that Ophelia’s friend’s daddy? Good heavens, he’s good-looking. I’ve never met him, but I’ve already decided I like him because he didn’t turn his head to watch Addie’s backside. Too bad he’s married.”

“Divorced. But you’re married.”

“Very true. But I wasn’t thinking about me.”

Liam came through the screen porch to the kitchen before I could question her. She walked straight to him, holding out her hand in greeting. “I’m Mary-Simms Mobley, formerly McSwain, and I’m Phoebe’s best friend from when we were practically still in diapers.”

Liam smiled back. “Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand. “Liam Fitch. My son, Will, is the boy down on the dock teaching Ophelia how to hook a worm.”

“That’s a story they can tell their grandchildren, isn’t it?” Mary-Simms burst out laughing. “Sorry. I can’t help myself. I missed my true calling as a matchmaker.” She gave him a second look. “Did you say Liam ? Are you the same Liam who saved Phoebe when she got hit by lightning?”

“The very same,” he said, pretending not to see Mary-Simms’s eyebrow wriggling directed at me. She knew the history of the lawsuit and would no doubt want to hear how Liam had come back into our lives.

Liam turned to me. “It looks like everything is under control. Give me a call on my cell when you’re ready for me to come pick Will up.”

“Sure.” I began walking Liam toward the front door, eager to get him out of the house before Mary-Simms’s matchmaking mind whirred into overdrive.

Following behind us, she said, “Hang on a sec. Are you by any chance a fan of the Backstreet Boys? Not that I’m saying you’re old enough to remember them, but I’m suspecting that you are.

And you don’t really have to be a fan to go.

It’s more like an excuse to go out with a bunch of people your age who remember how cool it used to be to like the Backstreet Boys and won’t judge you for singing along to the lyrics.

Or you can pretend that you don’t know them.

” She laughed. “Anyway, they’re playing at the outdoor amphitheater on Daniel Island on Friday night, and I’d like to get a group together to go.

I’m also desperate for a date night with my husband and a reason to wear heels and jewelry again. Please say you’ll both come.”

“I, uh...”

She bent down to scoop up Drew and his sippy cup. “I’ll let you think about it—just let me know by tomorrow. And because I’m feeling hopeful, I’m going to go ahead and reserve enough seats to include you two.”

I held the door open for her, seeing her bright red minivan parked behind Liam’s truck, a painted logo of an S and a magnolia blossom surrounded by the words Mary-Simms Designs plastered on the side-door panel.

“I know, I’m such a sellout. But a van really helps with storing all my design samples for my business as well as Drew’s accoutrements .

” She said this last word with a mixed Southern and French accent.

I smiled and nodded as if I’d known she had her own design company.

She’d studied business at Clemson, but our paths had diverged completely by the time I fled to the West Coast. She was the diamond ring I’d accidentally rolled up with the garbage and thrown away, and I was overcome with a wave of shame and regret.

I’d always thought that once I’d reached my thirties, I would have the wisdom to close the book on my past, accept all the losses and gains, and move on. I was still working on that.

As Mary-Simms buckled Drew into his car seat, Liam turned to me. “You should go to the concert. You need a break. Maybe Addie might want to go with you.”

“That would be more of a punishment. Even worse than going with you.”

When he didn’t say anything, I realized what I’d just said. “That’s not what I meant. I’m sure there are a million things you’d rather do than go see the Backstreet Boys with or without me.”

“Don’t be so quick to judge. I happen to like the Backstreet Boys, and I’m free Friday night. I could also make up an excuse not to go if that would make you feel better.”

I wanted to tell him then about the dream, and his part in its inception, and how terrified I was to have it again.

It had taken me by surprise when I’d fallen asleep on Celeste’s porch, and despite all my efforts to keep busy, a new detail from the dream kept prodding me like an apparition seen from the corner of my eye.

The bobbing object in the water that I’d seen the last time was there, glinting in the ambient light but still unidentifiable.

But this time, before it was sucked down into the dark depths, I’d seen something new, something I did recognize.

It was the bumper of the car. A white license place with dark letters, disappearing slowly, the palmetto tree and crescent visible for a second before vanishing.

I was sure I’d seen the last three digits of the number, but when I tried to go back and remember, all I could see was the pale glow of the plate as the car was sucked to the bottom.

“I’ll let you know.” I moved back, opening the door wider so he could step out onto the porch.

“I’ll drive,” he said, his grin so much like Will’s that I almost smiled back.

“I didn’t say—”

“Not yet, but I know you’d like to go so, I’m saving you the trouble. I’ll let you know what time I’ll pick you up.”

“But...”

“I’m looking forward to it,” he said, smiling as he headed down the porch steps to his truck.

I wanted to call after him and let him know that I wasn’t going, but the words got stuck in my mouth. Instead, I closed the door before he could see the silly grin on my face.