Change of Tides, page 8
He kicks his carseat. “But I want a grilled cheese.” Here we go, Hannah thinks. The hunger demons are showing their ugly heads.
“I can make you a grilled cheese.”
“But I want one of Birdie’s grilled cheeses. Hers are better.”
“A grilled cheese is a grilled cheese, Gus.” She makes a left-hand turn off The Avenue and drives down the short alley to the parking lot their building shares with Johnson’s Pharmacy.
When she unbuckles her son from his carseat, he slips past her and takes off around the side of the building. Slamming the car door, she runs after him, calling his name. By the time she catches up with him, he’s managed to open the cafe’s heavy front door and is making a beeline to his grandfather behind the counter. Pops scoops him up and gives him a hug.
“Gus! Come here, you naughty boy.” Hannah takes him from her father. “You can’t run away from me like that. You could’ve been hurt.”
A voice at the counter behind her sends a chill down her spine. “Hannah, is that you?”
She slowly turns to face the customer. He’s changed since she last saw him their senior year in college. His hair has darkened from white blonde to sandy, and he’s wearing it shorter now, his boyish waves now gone. But she would know that adorable face anywhere. “Hello, Ryan.”
Ryan’s eyebrows become one. “Did you just call him Gus?” His voice grows louder. “Is that my son?”
Hannah is aware of other customers watching them, including the attractive brunette glued to Ryan’s side. Her knees go weak, and she leans against her father for support, but she manages to sound flippant. “Don’t be ridiculous. Why would you say such a thing?”
“Because my middle name is Augustus. And he’s the spitting image of me at that age.” Ryan’s eyes shift from Hannah to Gus. “How old are you, buddy?”
Gus holds up two fingers. He’s too young to understand he’ll be three in two months.
Hannah’s face warms under Ryan’s intense scrutiny and she suddenly can’t breath. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your order.” Gripping her son tight, she turns her back on Ryan. She steps away, her eyes on the swinging kitchen door, when Ryan calls after her. “Not so fast, Hannah.”
She freezes, and her father whispers to her. “He’s not going away. You need to take this conversation outside.”
Hannah sees her mother hovering nearby. “Here.” She deposits Gus in her arms. “Will you please get him some lunch?”
Coming from behind the counter, Hannah exits the front door with her father, Ryan, and the girl she assumes is Ryan’s girlfriend on her heels.
“How do you know her?” the girlfriend asks.
“We dated for a while in college.” Ryan thrust his keys at her. “Wait for me in the car.”
“But I’m your fiancé. I have a right to know what’s going on.”
“Danielle . . . “ he says in a warning tone, and she scurries off.
Ryan levels his gaze on her. “Who’s the baby’s father, Hannah?”
Fear clenches her gut. She could lose everything. “He doesn’t have a father. He’s my son.”
“It’s all coming back to me now,” Ryan says, raking his hands through his hair. “Your roommates were making fun of you for gaining weight. Because you were pregnant. We went to the mountains for our formal weekend in November. You were worried because you forgot to pack your pills. That’s the last time we were together.”
“Because we broke up when you cheated on me the next weekend.”
“Gus looks older than two. If you got pregnant in November . . . ” Ryan counts the months on his fingers. “He’ll be three in August.”
“Let it go, Ryan. You’re getting married. You don’t a child complicating your life.”
Her father leans in close. “Careful what you say, Hannah.”
Ryan glares at Cary. “Who are you, anyway?”
“I’m her father.”
“Right. The man who mysteriously.”
Cary jaw tightens. “I’m also an attorney.”
“Good for you. I’m a law student, and my father is attorney general of South Carolina.” Ryan grips Hannah’s upper arm. “That little boy is my child, my flesh and blood. And I’m not going away.” He squeezes her arm hard and drops his hand. “I’ll be in touch.”
Hannah and Cary stand in silence watching him go. When he disappears around the corner of the pharmacy, Hannah bursts into tears, and Cary takes her in his arms. “I really messed up, Dad. Can he take Gus away from me?”
Cary strokes her hair. “That depends. Who did you name as father on Gus’s birth certificate?”
“None!” she cries into his chest. “I lied. I claimed father unknown.”
“Why did you do that?”
Hannah pushes away from her father. “Because I didn’t want Ryan to feel obligated to marry me. We’d broken up. He was planning to go to law school. I assumed he’d want nothing to do with the baby.”
“Maybe he didn’t back then. But he clearly does now.”
She wipes her eyes with the hem of her T-shirt. “Will I have to share custody?”
“That all depends on Ryan. We’ll have to wait for his next move. His fiancé didn’t appear too keen on having a toddler in her life. Every child needs his father, Hannah. Especially a child who is all boy like Gus. Would it be the end of the world to allow Ryan visitation?”
“Are you kidding me, right now? I should’ve known you would take his side.” Spinning on her heels, Hannah enters the cafe, leaving her father standing on the boardwalk alone.
Cary is livid at Birdie. “I can’t believe you let Hannah lie on her child’s birth certificate.”
His condescending tone reminds Birdie of arguments they’d had throughout their marriage. The old Birdie would’ve poured herself a vodka on the rocks. But the new and improved Birdie refuses to let him get to her. “Believe me, I tried to talk some sense into her. But she’s as stubborn as you. Once she makes up her mind, there’s no stopping her. Maybe if you’d been here . . .”
He opens his mouth to respond and then closes it again.
Birdie glances at her watch. She’s running late for her date with Stan. She crosses the room and taps lightly on Hannah’s door. “Hannah, I’m going now. I hate to leave with you so upset. I can easily stay here. Stan will understand.”
Hannah’s muffled voice comes from within. “I’m fine, Mom. Have fun on your date.”
“Okay, but call me if you need me.”
Birdie leaves the apartment without saying goodbye to Cary. She resents his intrusion into their lives. How dare he criticize Birdie’s parenting. The sooner he gets his own place the better off they’ll all be.
The short drive out to Stan’s house is pleasant with sprawling moss-draped oak trees lining both sides of the road. A long gravel driveway leads to a one-story lowcountry style house with wraparound porches and deep overhangs.
Stan, looking handsome in blue jeans and a short-sleeved plaid button-down shirt, is waiting for her in a rocker on the porch. He rises to greet her. “Evening.”
“I’m sorry I’m late.”
“Island time, Birdie,” he says in a scolding voice.
Birdie pulls a guilty face. “Oops. I forgot.”
She hands him the a bakery box. “Your pie, sir.”
“Thank you ma’am.” When he leans in to kiss her cheek, she catches a whiff of his cologne that smells like a summer ocean breeze.
He opens the screen door for her. “Come on in. Today is a fruity drink kind of day. I made a batch of virgin strawberry daiquiris.”
“I hope you didn’t leave out the alcohol on my account.”
“Not at all. Birdie mentioned you weren’t much of a drinker, but neither am I. I have an occasional beer after a long day or when I’m watching a football game. Other than that, I stay away from the stuff.”
The interior is handsomely decorated with rich, coffee-with-cream colored walls, seagrass carpets, and leather furniture. The open floor plan features a living room and adjacent kitchen with the dining are off to the side.
He sets the pastry box on the counter and fills two tall glasses with strawberry daiquiri. He hands one to her. “To Memorial Day,” he says, holding his glass out to toast.
She clinks her glass against his. “Cheers.”
She takes a sip of the daiquiri and licks her lips. “Yum. This is good. Not too sweet.”
“Made with all fresh ingredients.”
“I’m impressed.” She has a look around the living room. “Your home is lovely. Did you live here with Sheila?”
He shakes his head. “Sheila and I lived on the ocean. But I much prefer the inlet. I built this place after the divorce.”
“Come.” He takes her by the hand. “Let me show you my favorite room.” He leads her outside, across the porch, and down a set of steps to an covered bluestone terrace. A u-shaped wicker sofa with upholstered cushions is arranged in front of a stone fireplace. Mounted above the mantle is a enormous widescreen television.
When he notices her eyeing the television, Stan hunches his shoulders. “What can I say? I’m a huge football fan.”
Her lips curl into a smile. “You’re the most outdoorsy person I know. Of course you should have an outdoor living room.”
He grins, as though relieved. “Let’s walk down to the dock.”
Hand in hand, they cut across the freshly-cut lawn to the water. The dock stretches long against the bulkhead. The Island Daze is tied up front and center. To the right is a rubber floating dock housing his three wave runners and to the left is a covered section that offers shelter for two racks of paddle boards and kayaks.
“I know where to come when I need to borrow a boat,” Birdie says.
He grins. “You are always welcome here.
“Are you hungry?” He gestures at two wooden Adirondack chairs. “Or do you want to relax for a while?”
“Let’s relax for a minute.” She lowers herself to the chair, and he sits down next to her. She leans her head back against the chair. “This is nice after a long day.” She misses not having a porch or outdoor private area.
He presses his lips thin. “Nice. But often lonely. Do you get lonely, Birdie?”
“Ha. I sometimes wish for lonely. My daughter and grandson are living with me in my tiny apartment with no yard.”
“How nice for you. I know you enjoy their company.”
“I do. But I don’t think she’ll be with me much longer. She loves Palmetto Island, but professionally, there aren’t many opportunities for her here.”
A comfortable silence falls over them as they finish their daiquiris and watch the sun begin its descent below the horizon.
Birdie sets her empty glass down on the dock beside her chair. “I have a confession to make. Max made light of my drinking problem. The truth is, Stan, I’m a recovering alcoholic. I hit the bottom after Cary disappeared. I don’t know where I would be if not for Max. She saved me.”
If Stan is surprised, he doesn’t show it. “Thanks for trusting me enough to tell me.” He reaches for her hand. “Are you doing better now?”
“Much. I go to meetings a couple of times a week, and I avoid certain triggers like cocktail parties and crowded restaurants.”
“Then we make the perfect couple. I avoid cocktail parties like the plague, and I never go out to dinner.”
“Really? Why? I thought I was the only one on the planet who doesn’t like eating out.”
“Why be stuck in a stuffy restaurant when I have this view in my own backyard?” He spreads his arms wide at the inlet. “Besides, I can cook better than any chef in town.”
Birdie laughs out loud. “You’re awfully confident.”
He flashes her a grin. “Modesty isn’t one of my virtues.”
“Clearly. What other flaws do you have?”
“I’m a tough businessman, although a fair one. And I’m incredibly high strung. I have this constant urge to always be doing something.”
“That surprises me. We’ve been sitting here for almost thirty minutes, and I haven’t noticed any of your body parts twitching.”
“I do a good job of hiding it.” He jumps up and pulls Birdie to her feet. He brushes a stray strand of her hair out of her face. “I haven’t been with anyone since my divorce. While the thought of having sex with another woman terrifies me, I can’t stop wondering what it would be like to kiss you.”
Placing his hands on the sides of her face, he presses his lips lightly against hers. The feathery kiss sends tingles down her body to her toes. When he draws away, she palms his soft cheek. “You shaved.”
He face beams red. “In anticipation of kissing you.”
“Am I that predictable?” Without waiting for him to respond, she leans into him, kissing him with more urgency. His tongue parts her lips, and his arms circle her body, bringing her close.
“Wow! Your lips are amazing. How about I cook you dinner and then we kiss some more?”
She touches the tip of her finger to his lower lip. “I would love that,” she says, and they walk hand in hand back to built-in grill on the terrace.
Stan was telling the truth about his culinary skills. The burgers are the best she’s ever had, although messy with chili, sautéed onions, and cheddar cheese. They eat at the picnic table on the porch. Stan gobbles down his burger in anticipation of dessert. But Birdie savors hers, eating every morsel and then forgoing the key lime pie.
Once the dishes are put away, they return to the sofa on the terrace. They’ve no sooner sat down when Stan kisses her again. Birdie hasn’t made out with such intensity since she was a teenager. If even then. Even during their wildest sex, Cary never kissed her like this. But Stan is a gentleman. He keeps his hands to himself and makes no move to take things further.
Birdie’s lips are swollen and her skin raw when she finally breaks away from him. “It’s late.” The sultry tone in her voice sounds foreign to her. “I need to go home.”
When she moves to get up, he pulls her back down on his lap. “I’ll only let you go, if you promise to have dinner with me again tomorrow night.”
Tomorrow night seems like light years away. “Only if I cook for you this time.”
He hesitates a long minute. “How about if we cook together?”
“Fine,” she says with a laugh and kisses him again.
Ten
week after memorial day
Waiting for word from Ryan is like watching a live hand grenade tumbling through the air toward her. She replays the scene over and over in her mind. Was he angry or hurt? Probably both. Gus is Ryan’s clone. There’s no point in denying that Ryan is Gus’s father. How does Ryan’s fiancé fit in? Will Danielle go along with him if he decides to pursue a custody agreement. Or will she put her foot down? Taking care of a three year old will put a crimp in their style as newlyweds.
Hannah’s mom offers little comfort. Birdie works at the cafe during the day and goes out every night with Stan. Birdie wears a daze expression, and Hannah caught her humming in the kitchen on Tuesday afternoon. Is her mom hooking up with Stan? Hannah can’t bear to think about it, but she wishes them well.
Little by little, her father is insinuating himself back into their lives. Hannah made the mistake of letting him comfort her during a moment of weakness, and now he thinks he’s her new best friend. As if Cary standing up for her against Ryan could make up for abandoning them. Hannah can’t seem to get away from him. He’s always around, either working in the cafe or watching TV. To avoid him, Hannah spends more time in her room or out on the water in her kayak.
With still no word from Ethan, on Wednesday morning, Hannah contacts the director at the church preschool in Charleston, who informs her they’ll have a space opening up the first of July.
“I’ll take it,” Hannah says on a whim. “Send me the paperwork.”
She’s as terrified as she is thrilled. She’s made the first move. No turning back now.
She signs onto LinkedIn and posts a job opportunity for a web designer with limited experience located in Charleston. Within an hour, she receives her first response. Ironically, Christine Cain is a recent graduate from Hannah’s alma mater, Virginia Commonwealth University in Richmond.
Hannah clicks on the number for her old advisor. When her call goes to voicemail, she leaves a detailed message. Dr. Burgess calls her back within thirty minutes.
“Hannah! How wonderful to hear from you. I’ve been following your progress online. You’re making quite a name for yourself.”
“Thank you, Dr. Burgess. Things are going well. In fact, I’m in the process of hiring a designer. I’m curious if you know Christine Cain. I’ve stumbled upon her profile on LinkedIn.”
“I know Christine well. She writes code almost as well as you. And she’s a brilliant illustrator. Coupled with your talent for photography, the two of you would make an excellent team.”
Hannah’s pulse quickens. “Considering I can’t draw a stick figure, she might be just the person I’m looking for. I’ll give her a call.” She thanks Dr. Burgess and ends the call.
She messages Christine through the LinkedIn portal, asking to set up a networking call. After going back and forth, the set up a call for Thursday afternoon at 2 pm.
Hannah and Christine talk for a minute about VCU before Hannah explains her purpose for reaching out. “I have more business than I can handle, and I’m looking to hire a designer. With your credentials, I’m surprised you haven’t already found a job.”
“I took some time off after graduation to travel,” Christine explains. “I got back from Italy last night. I’m starting to look for jobs. Problem is, I have no clue where I want to live. I’m originally from Charleston, and I love it here, but most of my friends have moved away.”
Hannah snickers. “You and I have a lot in common, Christine. I’m relatively new to the industry myself, and I’m looking for someone to grow with me. If you’re interested, I’d love to grab a coffee one day early next week.”
