The Beach House. Mary Monroe Alice

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ rationalized that she’d needed a long, overdue vacation. But now it was time to regroup. She’d make a few calls and develop a game plan. Perhaps set up a couple of meetings. After all, she had contacts in the business, and a solid reputation to fall back on.

      Except, she didn’t have her computer with her. Or her cell phone. How could she have been so dazed as to leave them in Chicago? She’d stormed out of the city, determined to disengage. But rather than feel freer, she felt totally cut off without access to her e-mail. She was addicted to the connection. Without it she felt jittery and antsy. Marooned on some deserted island.

      While she paced, her wandering gaze caught sight of a cluster of photographs on the mantel that hadn’t been there before. Her mother must have just put them up. Her curiosity pricked, she walked closer to inspect.

      She was drawn first to the photograph of herself, naturally enough. In a small silver frame she saw herself as a young teen curled up in a tree reading a book. She felt a ping somewhere deep inside and raised her eyes out the rear window to search for the old oak tree that had been a dear friend to her for many years. But it wasn’t in the yard. “Poor old tree,” she said softly, mourning its loss. A flood of memories coursed through her and, instinctively, she placed the photograph back on the mantel and moved on.

      The largest was a silver-framed family photograph taken on the veranda of the Charleston house. A ruddy-faced Palmer in a navy blazer with shiny brass buttons sat with his arm around a slender, erect Julia in pale linen, every hair in place. Palmer had borne the butt of many jokes about how he’d married a gal just like mom, but Cara had never laughed. She’d always found that at the root of jokes there often lay a core of truth. On either side of them sat their children, Linnea and Cooper.

      She picked up a flowery, porcelain-framed school photo of her niece to study. Linnea was a pretty girl, an interesting combination of her parents. Counting back, Cara figured her niece was nine years old now. She had Palmer’s warm smile and flirtatious grin that would someday wrap a boy around her little finger. But in everything else, she looked like her mother and grandmother: petite, with brilliant blue eyes, fine white-gold hair and porcelain skin. Ol’ Palmer would have his hands full keeping the boys from that one, she thought with a chuckle. And it would only be God’s good justice after the hell he’d raised growing up.

      But Cooper was all Rutledge, from his strong jaw stuck out at a rebellious angle, to his broad forehead with the Rutledge hairline and the hint of what would someday become a proud, straight nose. He didn’t smile as much as grimace for the camera, as if to say, Do I have to? She tried to recall how old he was, ashamed that she didn’t know. It was a sad statement about her relationship with her brother. From the pudgy cheeks and the uncertain, wobbly smile, he looked to be no older than five. There was something in his eyes, however, a dark-brown like her own and her father’s, that drew her in. It was the vulnerability behind the bravado that she understood so well.

      She placed the photograph slowly back onto its place on the mantel, feeling very distant from these children and sorry for it. She had no children of her own—not so much by choice as by circumstance—and they were her only niece and nephew. She’d sent them gifts at Christmas and for their birthdays, for which she promptly received polite but impersonal thank-you notes. Such was the extent of their relationship. She wondered if they would even recognize her if she passed them in the street?

      Making a quick decision, she walked directly to the phone and dialed Palmer’s number at the family house. It was the same number she’d dialed since she was a child. It rang four times before a gruff voice answered.

      “Palmer?” she asked, surprised to find him home in the morning. She’d expected to reach Julia.

      There was a pause. “Mama?”

      Cara laughed. “No, it’s me. Cara. How are you?”

      “Cara? Well, for…This is a surprise! Are you all right?”

      “I’m fine, fine. In fact, I’m in town.”

      “No kidding? That’s great. How long you in for?”

      “Not too long.”

      “Business or pleasure?”

      “Pleasure, actually.”

      “Really?” He sounded genuinely surprised. He chuckled softly, a low, masculine rumbling sound unique to Southern men. “Well now, that’s a switch.”

      “Don’t start in on me, Palmer,” she replied, laughing. “Actually, I’m out at the beach house. Mama asked me to come for a visit and I had a few days, so here I am.”

      “Did she now?” He paused as though thinking that over. “So, did you meet her companion?”

      By the way he said the word, she knew instantly that he disapproved of Toy Sooner. Cara sighed, remembering her promise to her mother. “I did. Briefly. She’s been keeping herself scarce and, frankly, I’ve been grounded with a migraine since I arrived. I couldn’t open my mouth except to groan. But I’m feeling much better now. Listen, Palmer, I saw photographs of Cooper and Linnea and I was amazed at how they’ve grown. Actually, I’m calling because I’d like to see y’all while I’m in town.” Palmer’s drawl was so infectious she couldn’t help the Lowcountry from creeping back into her own tone and words.

      “Why sure, honey! We’d love that. Julia will cook up something real special. When can you come?”

      She felt herself smiling. “When do you want me?”

      “Well, here’s the thing. I’m fixing to leave for Charlotte this afternoon. I’ve got some business to tend to up there that’ll take up the week. I’m packing my suitcase right now. How about Saturday? You gonna be here that long? That’s a whole three days away….”

      She let the tease ride. Looking out the window she saw a brilliant blue sky. She’d spent her first week groaning in bed with the shades drawn or moping—hardly a vacation. But more importantly, she hadn’t accomplished what she’d come here to do. And she wanted to see her niece and nephew.

      “You can count on it, big brother.”

      “Well, good,” he replied, and she could hear the pleasure in his drawl. “We’re all looking forward to it. And bring that runaway back home with you, hear? Tell her that her grandbabies miss her. Mama hasn’t been back here but a few times since she left. She’s like a hermit crab, hiding out in that tiny place. I worry about her.”

      “Come out to the island, then. It’s not far.”

      “Maybe now that summer’s here and the kids are out of school, we’ll do just that. We’ll come out for a good visit.”

      “Mama’d like that.” Then, thinking of Toy, “But it’s a little crowded here now.”

      “Hell, I don’t stay in the cottage anymore,” he said, shooing away the suggestion in his blustery voice that sounded so much like her father’s it was eerie. “I’ve got my own place on Sullivan’s Island. Over by the lighthouse. Problem is, it’s rented out so much in the summer we hardly ever get to come down to the water like we want to.”

      Cara heard the pride in his voice and thought that business must be pretty good for him to buy a summerhouse on Sullivan’s. Last she’d heard, they were saving to buy a house downtown. Could СКАЧАТЬ