Change of Tides, page 5
Birdie can’t speak past the lump in her throat. Holding Hannah at arms length, with tears in her eyes, she nods. “I promise.”
Five
Saturday-Hannah
Hannah arrives in Charleston in time to have coffee with Liza before she is due at the hospital for rounds.
“I can’t believe you’re seriously considering moving to Charleston. Tell me everything,” Liza says as they depart on foot from the large house she shares with several other medical students.
Hannah tells her about Ethan’s offer as they walk on Ashley Avenue for two blocks to the MUSC campus. “Do you think I’d like Charleston?”
“You would love Charleston. I’m never leaving here.”
Hannah stops walking. “Wait. What happened to meeting your guy in medical school and moving back to Palmetto Island?”
“Did I say that?” A smirk appears on Liza lips. She knows darn well she did.
“Yep. Three years ago. About a month before Gus was born. We were having coffee at the cafe.”
“Whatever. Part of my prediction came true.” Liza starts walking again and Hannah falls in line beside her.
“What part? You mean the guy part?”
“Yes! I can’t wait for you to meet him, Hannah. He’s originally from Charleston. He doesn’t want to leave, and I love it here.”
“I’m hurt, Liza. This is the first I’m hearing of this guy, and you’re already talking to him about your future.”
“Because it all happened so fast. And I really want you to meet him in person.”
They arrive at Halo, a coffee shop located on Ashley Avenue from the MUSC campus. They order coffee and muffins and take their food to the second-story porch.
Seated at a table on the balcony, Liza pulls out her phone. “What’s Ethan’s last name? I’m texting Stuart to see if he knows him. Although I’m sure he does. Charleston’s pretty small.”
“His name is Ethan Hayes.”
Liza’s thumbs fly across the screen, and seconds later, her phone pings with the incoming text. “Yep. They’re good friends. They graduated high school together. Hey! Maybe we can meet y’all for drinks after dinner. We should be done at the hospital around nine.”
“Maybe.” Hannah sips her coffee. “Ethan and I aren’t dating or anything like that. Our relationship is strictly professional.”
“Yeah, right.” Liza pinches off a bite of muffing and pops it in her mouth. “Then why does your face look all lovestruck when you talk about him.”
“Ha. I’m lovestruck about the possibility of this partnership. It means too much to ruin it with a failed romance.”
Liza cocks a manicured eyebrow. “Who says it will fail?”
Hannah can’t help but laugh. “Enough, already, about Ethan.” She settles back in her chair. “Tell me about Charleston. Why do you like it here so much?”
“Hmm. Let’s see. There are so many reasons.” A gentle breeze ruffles Liza’s honey-colored hair as she stairs over the balcony toward the hospital. “Charleston is like Palmetto Island on steroids. There’s no shortage of outdoor actives, and the food is amazing, the best in the south. Mostly, I like the people. Everyone is so chill. I’m promise, Hannah. You’d fit right in.”
“Even with a baby?” Hannah asks, picking at her muffin.
“Gus is a toddler now. But yes. People will welcome you, even though you’re a single mother. At least my friends will.”
But will Ethan still want her as a partner when she tells him about Gus?
Silence falls over the table. Hannah desperately wants to confide in Liza about her father. She’s trying to find the words to explain his sudden reappearance when Liza stands abruptly.
“I’ve gotta go. Stuart’s waiting for me.” She slaps a silver key on the table. “Here’s the spare key to my house. Don’t lose it. Text me when you figure out your plans for tonight.”
Liza blows Hannah a kiss, tosses her black leather tote over her shoulder, and disappears inside. Seconds later, she emerges from the building and crosses Ashley Avenue where a guy in a white physician’s coat is waiting for her on the sidewalk. As best Hannah can tell, he’s good-looking, tall with dark hair, and his feelings for Liza are apparent in his warm smile. Removing her white coat from her tote bag, Liza slips it on, and they walk off arm in arm in the opposite direction.
Hannah drops the remainder of her muffin in the trash can but takes her coffee with her to finish on the walk back to Liza’s house. She takes her time. She’s in no hurry with an hour to spare before Ethan picks her up. The air is already stifling, and trickles of sweat roll down her back.
She admires the old homes—some in better shape than others—with slanted porches and secrets gardens that have housed fascinating characters for more than a century. She walks past Liza’s house to Colonial Lake where parents with small children and dogs amble along the sidewalks surrounding the tidal pond. She images fishing and picnicking here with Gus on Saturday mornings. She feels comfortable here. Charleston is like her favorite pair of denim cutoff shorts.
Ethan comes to pick her up in his silver Porsche Cayenne. Is he’s making that much money designing website? Hannah wants in on this gig.
“I thought we’d go for a quick tour of the city before going out on the water,” he says as they speed off down the street.
Ethan fidgets with the radio, and then opens the sunroof. Is he nervous? He points out various landmarks as they cruise through the downtown streets. On a holiday weekend, there’s more foot traffic than cars on the road. They drive through the College of Charleston to Upper King and back down to the City Market.
“What do you think of Charleston so far?” He asks as he whips his Porsche into the parking lot at the Yacht Club.
“I can totally see myself living here. Although, I think I’ll sell my car and walk everywhere.”
He smiles over at her. “Many people do. But I’d suggest getting a bicycle.”
Ethan removes two coolers from the back, handing the lighter one to Hannah. They walk down the dock to a center console boat that, in Hannah’s best guess, is about thirty feet long. Over the years, she’s learned a thing or two about boats. The navy hull and teak trim distinguish it as a Hinckley.
“Beautiful boat,” she says.
“Thanks. It belongs to my dad, but I use it more than he does.”
Ethan takes the cooler from her and helps her on board. They untie from the dock, and once they’re underway, he opens a cooler and hands her a beer. When he strips off his shirt and greases his body with sunscreen, she follows his lead. Feeling his eyes on her breasts, she wishes she’d worn the less revealing of her two bikinis.
He increases his speed, and above the sound of the engine, she yells, “Where are we going?”
“To join some friends on a secluded beach.”
She nods and slides onto the pedestal seat beside him.
Twenty minutes later, a flotilla of anchored boats comes into view. People crowd the beach. Some wade at the edge of the water, beer cans in hand, while others throw frisbees and dance to music blasting from speakers on one of the larger boats.
Ethan and Hannah anchor the boat and join the party. He introduces her to so many people she can’t keep them all straight. Everyone she meets is friendly, and she’d like to get to know several of the girls better. When was the last time she made new friends? College. When was the last time she had so much fun? Before Gus was born. She wouldn’t want to party every weekend, but where’s the harm in blowing off a little steam every now and then?
Ethan spreads a blanket out of the beach, and they dig into their picnic.
“Did you make all this?” she asks with a sweeping arm at the containers of fried chicken, deviled eggs, and pimento cheese sandwiches.
He gives her a sheepish grin. “I may have had a little help.”
“Your mama?” she says as she gnaws on a chicken leg.
“My mama’s housekeeper, Gloria. She has a soft spot for me.”
Hannah rolls her eyes. “I’m sure she does.”
“Ready for another?” Ethan asks, offering her a beer.
She holds up her hand. “No thanks. I’ve had enough.”
They finish eating and clean up their trash. When Hannah goes into the water to pee, she swims out to the boat and stretches out on the front bench seat to sleep off her buzz.
She dozes off, and sometime later, Ethan wakes her when he collapses onto the opposite bench. She cracks an eyelid to find him watching her, curled up on his side with hands pressed together under one cheek.
“You’re incredibly beautiful.” His arm shoots out, and he runs the back of his finger across her bikini-clad breast.
She smacks his hand away. “Our relationship is professional, Ethan.”
He sticks his lower lip out in a pout. “That’s no fun. We can mix business with pleasure. Who knows? We might really hit it off. We’ll be one of Charleston’s power couples.”
Hannah props herself up on her elbows. “And if it doesn’t work out?”
He gives his shoulder a shrug. “We’ll end up being lifelong partners and friends.”
“What if we end up despising each other?”
“We’ll dissolve our partnership and go our separate ways.”
She swings her legs over the bench. “Meanwhile I’m stuck living in Charleston.”
He sits bolt upright. “Hey? Why so serious?”
Because she’s a single mother. She can’t afford to take chances.
“This isn’t a game for me, Ethan. I’ve worked damn hard to establish my career.”
“And it shows.” He moves over to her bench. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I was just having a little fun. From now on, we’ll keep things strictly professional. Although I won’t lie. I’m crazy attracted to you.”
She can’t help but smile in response to his devilish grin. She’s crazy attracted to him as well. But, for Gus’s sake, she has to keep her eye on the prize. Her life is vastly different from Ethan’s. He’s a playboy, and she has a three-year-old child to take care of. Can she be business partners with someone like him? Someone who goes for drinks every night after work. Someone who parties and has promiscuous sex every weekend. Not that he’s doing anything different than other kids their age. But she made the choice to lead a serious life when she decided to keep Gus. And she hasn’t regretted it for one minute. Until now.
Six
Saturday night-Birdie
Max enters the cafe mid afternoon on Saturday during their first lull in business for the day. “My guests are eating me out of house and home. I hope you’re fully stocked, because I need to load up.”
Birdie grabs a pen an notepad. “We have an ample supply of everything. But if you want super fresh, I just finished a batch a key lime pies, and Sadie’s in the back making donuts. The patriotic ones we do for Memorial Day.”
“I’ll take three pies and two dozen donuts.” Max cuts her eyes at Cary who is processing a customer’s order. “I see you put him to work.”
“He volunteered. He jumped right in like he’s been working here for years. He’s a pretty good salesman, too.”
“Birdie,” Max says in her warning tone.
“Please, Max. I’m not falling in love with him again, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ll be right back with your order.”
Birdie assembles the baked goods and puts the credit charge through. “Do you need help carrying everything?”
“Only if you want to hear about my date with Stan.”
“Yes!” Grabbing the stack of boxed pies, Birdie comes around from behind the counter and they leave through the front door together. “When you didn’t call me, I figured things didn’t go well.”
“Believe it or not, Stan talked about you the whole time.”
Birdie’s heart skips a beat. “Me? What do you mean?”
“What do you think I mean? His purpose for drinks with me was to pick my brain about you. He wants to know if you’re dating again. Because he doesn’t frequent the MatchMade website, he didn’t know you’d joined.”
Birdie holds the door open for Max, and they enter the hotel lobby. “What did you tell him about me?”
“That he should totally ask you out. And I gave him your number.”
Birdie follows Max through the lounge to the small commercial kitchen. “You didn’t tell him Cary’s back in town, did you?”
Max sets the donut boxes on the counter. “I did, actually. And that the two of you are shacking up.”
Birdie’s jaw drops. “You didn’t.”
“Of course I didn’t.“ Max snatches the pies from Birdie. “But it’s only a matter of time before he hears about it on the street. You’re finally moving on with your life, Birdie. Don’t let Cary ruin your life again.”
“He’s not ruining my life. I’m just helping him get a fresh start. I need to get back to the cafe.”
As Birdie leaves the kitchen, Max calls after her, “Have fun on your date with Harold.”
Harold. Birdie wishes she’d never agreed to go to dinner with him. Even though she told him the cafe doesn’t close until six, he’s insisting on coming for her at five thirty. Only old people go to dinner so early. Nevertheless, she’s dressed in white jeans and a hot pink tunic when he arrives.
He gives her the once over. “You look beautiful.”
“You don’t look so bad yourself.” She doesn’t consider Harold handsome. But he’s pleasant looking—he still has all his hair—and nicely dressed in a navy sport coat and khaki pants.
“Well, then. Shall we.” He offers her his arm, and they walk the short distance to the Lighthouse.
Several tables on the deck are occupied with customers enjoying happy hour. A gentle breeze is blowing off the ocean, and Birdie would prefer to sit outside. But Harold requests a table inside the empty restaurant.
Studying her menu, Birdie finds many of the offerings tempting. Goat cheese and arugula salad for a starter. Either crab cakes or sautéed scallops for the entree. And fresh fruit on homemade cinnamon ice cream for dessert. Printed at the bottom of the menu is a notice abouth the early bird special they offer every evening between five thirty and seven. This explains a lot.
“Would you care for wine with your dinner?” Harold asks. “Depending on your choice of red or white, we get better pricing if we order a bottle.”
“I don’t care for wine. Thank you.”
Ever the hypocritical alcoholic, she worried he might think her a dull date if she doesn’t order a drink. But instead of appearing irritated, he looks relieved.
The waitress, a attractive young woman about Hannah’s age, arrives to take their order. “We have several specials tonight,” she says and describes the list of entree specials in detail.
Birdie’s face lights up when she mentions soft shell crabs, but before she can request them, Harold takes her menu away. He tells the waitress, “We’ll both have the roasted rosemary chicken for our entrees.”
Birdie can hardly believe her ears. What a cheapskate. He ordered the least expensive item on the menu with no starters or desserts.
“And to drink?” The waitress asks, a hint of irritation in her voice.
Harold hands her the menus. “I’ll have a glass of the house red and the lady would like sweet tea.”
Sweet tea? Who said anything about sweet tea?
Birdie smiles at the waitress. “I’m fine with just water. Thanks.”
When the waitress leaves, Harold launches into a discussion about his vegetable garden. Birdie has nothing against gardening, but she could care less what he uses to get rid of aphids on his tomato plants. She considers excusing herself for the restroom and sneaking out the back door. But that would be rude, so she remains at the table and endures the boring conversation.
After the waitress brings their beverages, Birdie’s eyes roam frequently to Harold’s wine. He’s now going on about the process he uses to pickle his cucumbers. The sheer boredom of his conversation is tempting her to drink.
When her phone vibrates in her hand bag, she slips the bag from the table to her lap. Harold’s too busy talking about eggplant to notice. Removing her phone from the bag, she sneaks a glance at the text. Hello, Birdie. This is Stan Morgan. I hope you don’t mind me reaching out. I was wondering if you’d be interested in spending the afternoon on the water with me tomorrow.
Max must have told him the cafe closes on Sundays at two. Tingles of excitement flutter in her belly. A day on the water is her kind of date.
Harold suggests a walk along the boardwalk after dinner.
“I’m sorry, Harold. We were slammed today with the holiday traffic.”
“I understand,” he says and walks her to the cafe’s front door.
When he moves in to kiss her, Birdie turns her head, and his wet lips land with a sucking noise on her cheek.
Harold straightens. “You’re not going out with me again, are you?”
Birdie shakes her head. “Sorry. No chemistry. But thanks for dinner. Night, Harold,” she says and closes the door on him.
Pulling out her phone, she quickly taps out a text to Stan. I’m glad to hear from you. An outing on the water sounds lovely. What time? The cafe closes at two.
His response is immediate. Perfect. I’ll pick you up at the marina’s main dock at two thirty. Wear your bathing suit and bring sunscreen.
Birdie smiles to herself. Tomorrow afternoon can’t get here soon enough.
She hears voices coming from the living room, and when she makes her way upstairs, she finds Cary watching On Golden Pond.
As a married couple, they’d often watched old movies together. This one, in particular, was one of their favorites.
When he sees Birdie standing here, he says, “How was your date?”
She pulls a face and he laughs. “That bad?”
“Worse.” She eyes a half-empty sleeve of Saltines on the coffee table. “Did you get dinner?”
