Page 40 of That Last Carolina Summer

“And I’m doing all that I can while I’m here to make things smoother when I return to the life I’ve worked very hard to establish. I know how that sounds, and I’m not trying to run from my responsibilities, but everyone is better off without me being here.”

“I don’t think that’s true. And I’m not even sure it’s possible to leave for good. I had a great job offer in Atlanta when I graduated from med school, but my grandmother is here along with all my memories of Julie. And this place. It’s like the pluff mud clings to your heart. It’s like an anchor.”

I turned away, staring out my window, the passing traffic only a blur. “You’re wrong. Leaving gets easier the more I do it.”

We were silent until he turned onto I-526 toward Daniel Island. “So, what did you do before going to a concert when you were a kid?” he asked.

Relieved to have the subject changed, I faced him. “I didn’t go to concerts. My mother didn’t allow it because I was too young, and when I was old enough, I was too worried about all the dangers my parents warned me about, so I didn’t want to go.”

“That’s tough,” he said.

“Not really. Aunt Sassy and I would watch old films together and eat homemade caramel popcorn, so I didn’t suffer too much.”

“I’d say you got the better end of the deal. I wasn’t a big concertgoer as a kid, either. I was more into being outside and on the water than into music.”

“Same. But I knew a lot of the popular music because Addie always had something blasting on the speakers in her bedroom, and I must have absorbed it by osmosis.” I briefly turned to look at him.

Liam Fitch was even better-looking up close, his relaxed hold on the steering wheel and tanned forearms that hinted of his time outside making him even more attractive.

And that was something I couldn’t explore.

Being around Liam increased my chances of having that one dream.

The longer I stayed in South Carolina, the more persistent the dream became, with newer details revealed each time, like watching an artist paint.

Each detail intensified my terror, amplifying it through my waking hours until I dreaded going to sleep each night.

I cleared my throat. “You probably absorbed your love of the Backstreet Boys from your older sister, too.”

“Actually, I couldn’t tell you the name of a single one of their songs.”

“What? I thought you said you liked them and wanted to go to the concert.”

“Well, I half lied. I do want to go to the concert, but not because of the music.”

I stared at my hands in my lap with their chewed-up nails that Addie had said were beyond her scope.

“You look nice tonight, by the way.”

I crossed my arms. “That’s Addie’s fault. She didn’t want to be embarrassed if anybody recognized me as her sister.”

He made an odd sound in the back of his throat as we exited the interstate onto Seven Farms Drive toward the amphitheater. We drove the rest of the short trip without speaking, the strains of “I Want It That Way” flooding the inside of his truck and drowning out the chance for more talking.

After parking, we headed to where Mary-Simms said she and her party would be. I recognized my name being squealed, and then suddenly I was being embraced tightly by my best friend, who was holding a large cup with a straw. Something cold and wet dripped down my arm.

I laughed as Mary-Simms nearly toppled us both over. “Well, hello to you, too. How much have you had to drink already?”

“Not a drop! This is ice water because I’m not drinking tonight. I’m just drunk on happiness because you’re here.” She tugged on my arm. “Come on and meet everyone—you, too, Liam.”

She introduced us to her husband, Andrew, and two of her former sorority sisters and their husbands. She said their names so quickly that I knew I wouldn’t remember them.

We headed to the concessions, where Liam ordered beer and cheeseburgers for both of us and a large pretzel to share. I tried to pay for half to make it clear this wasn’t a date, but he handed over his credit card and told me I could get the next round.

Our row was centered in front of the stage, our seats still warm from the sun, although we were closing in on sunset.

It was seven in the evening, and the day’s heat radiated off every surface.

We were packed in tightly, our legs touching those of our neighbors on either side.

I had tried to sit next to Mary-Simms so we could catch up and sing along to the songs we’d once sung together into our hairbrushes during morning carpool, but she had deftly maneuvered the seating arrangement to ensure that Liam was between us.

As we waited for the concert to start, I leaned across Liam, trying not to touch him although it was impossible considering how my bare leg was already pressed against the thigh of his jeans.

“Mary-Simms, I enjoyed meeting your little boy, Drew, the other day. He’s adorable.

I can’t wait to meet his sister. What’s her name? ”

In spite of the growing crowd in the amphitheater, it seemed as if the volume had suddenly been turned down. She stared at me and blinked several times as if trying to process what I’d just said.

“What makes you think I have a daughter?” she finally managed. “Drew is my only child.”

“I...” I realized that I didn’t have an answer other than I’d had a dream of my friend in a hospital room with her bright lipstick and pink balloons. “I don’t remember. Maybe I thought you mentioned a daughter when I saw you?”

Mary-Simms shook the ice in the bottom of her cup, and I remembered her saying that she wasn’t drinking tonight.

“Nope. I definitely didn’t.” She looked at me expectantly.

She’d known about my dreams, and it was foolish of me to think she might have forgotten.

I knew that she would look for an excuse to drag me to the ladies’ room and interrogate me at the first opportunity.

“Sorry,” I said. “My mistake.” I offered a small laugh. “I have no idea where I got that from.”

I felt Liam looking at me, but I turned to my left and began chatting idly with one of the other couples until the warm-up band appeared and began to play.

Despite enjoying the high-energy dancing and music by the boys—now men—during the fourth song I said I was feeling sick and asked Liam to take me home. As we squeezed past Mary-Simms, she took my hand and pressed it between hers. “I’m sorry. I hope you feel better. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

We said our goodbyes and walked silently back to Liam’s truck, the song “Larger than Life” escorting us out of the stadium.

We were almost back to the interstate before Liam spoke. “If you’re really not feeling well, I can play doctor and ask for a list of your symptoms.”

“I’m fine. It was just...” I searched for something that might sound plausible “...too loud.”

He laughed. “That’s a sign of growing older, you know. The music is suddenly too loud, and you’d rather stay home than go out. I get it. But I don’t think that’s why you wanted to leave.”

I turned my head away and closed my eyes.

The rumbling of the truck lulled me to sleep, and I was soon on that deserted road in the marsh, watching the car weaving over the wet road, hearing the sound of the car hitting the water and the lonely call of a nightjar.

This time I knew to look at the spot where I’d seen an object floating before being consumed by the marsh.

The brief reflection from the ambient light winked at me, as if we were both in on a secret, and then disappeared.

I watched the back end of the car as it sank, once again spotting the South Carolina license plate, but the digits on the plate remained elusive.

I slid my gaze back to the object in the water, needing to see it again, but it had already sunk beneath the surface.

I realized with a sickening feeling that there was something about it this time. Something I thought I recognized.

I woke up screaming, and strong arms were holding me, and a voice was saying my name.

I opened my eyes, my face pressed into a solid chest. The rumbling from the voice was as comforting as the lingering scent of soap.

As soon as I realized it was Liam, I pulled away and threw open the side door of the truck, recognizing my driveway and the familiar sight of my front porch.

I climbed out then leaned against the truck’s hood as I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to erase the last remnants of the dream.

“Are you okay?” Liam stood in front of me, his voice full of concern.

“Yes. I’m so sorry.” I was too embarrassed to meet his gaze. “It was just a bad dream.”

He nodded. “If you’re not ready to go inside, we can stay outside and talk for a bit. Unless you’re still not feeling well.”

I was glad for the darkness to hide the color creeping up my cheeks.

“I’m feeling better, thanks.” I met his gaze.

His eyes were laughing but not mocking, and his invitation to talk for a while sounded a lot better than going inside and making pleasant conversation with Dale and Addie or trying to get to sleep with the dream fresh in my brain.

When he saw me hesitating, he said, “I think you need to talk, and I’m a good listener.”

A warm breeze tugged at my hair and my heart, bringing with it the scent of the marsh and reminding me of the summers of my childhood before I’d had to leave it behind.

I glanced back at the house then turned back to Liam. “Can I get you a beer?”

“I thought you’d never ask. Just one since I have to drive.”

“Go ahead and set up a couple of chairs on the end of the dock, and I’ll meet you there.”

He gave me a salute and headed toward the backyard while I crept into the kitchen, aware of the sound of the TV from the living room, and grabbed a six-pack and a bag of Doritos.

“Where are the chairs?” I asked as I reached the dock.