Chapter 18
“Is that right, little girl?” the man asked, peering closely at her as his companions glanced our way with disinterest. “How much did you find?”
“Three, but two’s pretty messed up.”
“That don’t matter. The bank’ll give you some good ones to replace them.”
“It will?” Latisha said, frowning at the thought. “I didn’t know that.”
“Sure it will,” he said. “Then you can buy yourself a scooter or something.”
“I don’t want no scooter.”
Uncomfortable with his questions, I said, “Latisha is talking about something else entirely.”
Then the man, having had enough of Latisha, turned to me.
“So you folks weren’t at the beach when all the bills rolled in? Bet that was a disappointment.”
Lloyd, who’d been digging his toes into the wet sand, then watching as the holes filled with water, looked up. He glanced at me and tilted his head to the side, indicating that he was ready to move on.
“Not especially,” I said. “We saw enough of the mad scramble for money to stay out of it. So undignified, you know.”
The woman, whose teased hair had been blown straight out to the side and was staying that way, which is what hair spray will do for you, had also had enough. With a roll of her eyes, she said, “Let’s get on with it, Rob.”
I, too, was ready to get on with our walk. The man—Rob, she’d called him—was much too interested in getting his hands on a few hundred-dollar bills, none of which we had.
“Well, nice meeting you,” I said, taking Latisha’s hand and starting on our way. Lloyd had already taken a few steps, but was still giving the three a quizzical once-over.
“Same here,” Rob said in the dismissive tone that strangers use with each other. He caught up with his companions, and the three of them resumed their search for an errant hundred-dollar bill or two.
We walked on, stumbling occasionally in the wind gusts that seemed to be getting stronger. Lloyd kept turning his head to look back at the well-dressed but windblown beachcombers, checking, I supposed, to see if they’d found anything. I had my mind more on Etta Mae, wondering how far inland the wind gusts would go and hoping that her little car could withstand them. Latisha stopped every now and then to scrape sand from a shell sticking up from the wet sand, then moving on after deciding that it wasn’t worth the trouble.
“I already got lots of shells better’n any I’m findin’ today,” she said.
“If you’re not having any luck,” I said, “why don’t we turn back. Etta Mae will be coming in soon, and we should be there for her.”
“Tell you what, Miss Julia,” Lloyd said. “This wind’s pretty strong. Why don’t we cut across the dunes here? We’ll come out near the hotel, and it’ll be easier walking back to the house on the sidewalk.”
“That’s a good idea,” I said, and that’s what we did.
Lloyd, however, stopped at the top of the dune and looked back the way we had come. “They’re still looking,” he said as he hurried to catch up. “They’re just about opposite our house. I’m just as glad they won’t know where we’re staying. That man was too nosy for my liking.”
I frowned, wondering what he’d picked up that I hadn’t. I mean, other than Rob’s ill-bred interest in our financial standing and his penchant for jewelry. “Well, that’s probably wise,” I said. “No use advertising that we’re renting the most expensive house around. You can’t be too careful these days, especially with strangers.”
“Not just strangers,” Lloyd said, “but scavengers. Who ever heard of hurrying here in street clothes to look for money hours later? It doesn’t make sense.”
But he made sense, so I picked up the pace when we reached the sidewalk, hurrying to reach the house that had two law enforcement officers temporarily in residence.
I combed my hair as best I could after our windblown walk, getting ready to go out for dinner. The children were restless with hunger in spite of the heavy snacks they’d had earlier. Sam had just finished insisting that we should go on while he stayed and waited for Etta Mae, when Lloyd sang out, “She’s here!”
He ran down the back stairs to help with her luggage and soon they both came in, Lloyd with her battered suitcase and Etta Mae with a glowing smile on her face.
Hazel Marie and Binkie welcomed her with enthusiasm, while the children stood back and watched. Coleman and Mr. Pickens smiled at her, but restrained themselves from the hugs and kisses their wives were giving her. Surprisingly, LuAnne took it upon herself to lead Etta Mae up the stairs to the room they would share.
“We won’t be but a minute,” she said. “We’ll just wash our hands.” Etta Mae, I assumed, would want to do more than that after her long drive.
“Well, hurry up,” Mr. Pickens said with a smile. I assumed that he’d had the same thought as I had. “We’re about to starve.”
We had to wait only about fifteen minutes before being led to a table on a screened porch at the back of the seafood house. It was worth the wait because we looked right out over the inlet where the shrimp boats were coming in for the evening. The little girls were entranced and, to tell the truth, so were the rest of us.
I had arranged to sit next to Etta Mae, wanting to make her feel comfortable and part of the group. While waiting for our orders, I asked about her trip.
“Oh, it was fine,” she said, her eyes shining with the wonder of the late evening light on the water and the muscled men working on the boats. “I didn’t have any trouble at all, but there sure was a lot of traffic.”
“I think it’s that way on Fridays every week of the summer,” I said. “People coming down for the weekend. But how did the funeral go?”
“Well,” Etta Mae said, frowning, “I guess it was as good as funerals get. I mean, it made me sad like they always do. I’m really going to miss her. She’d been my patient for almost two years, you know.”
“Yes, I remember.” I decided not to bring up that particular patient’s promise to leave something in her will to Etta Mae. It was fairly obvious that the woman had not kept her promise and, even though Etta Mae was the least avaricious person I knew, I also knew that she couldn’t help but be disappointed. I mean, when somebody promises something, they ought to either follow through or else not bring up the subject at all.
After eating enough fried fish, shrimp, crab, and scallops to raise the cholesterol count of everybody at the table, we shuffled out to our cars and headed back to the big yellow house. Latisha was sound asleep in our backseat by the time we got there, so she had to be walked up the stairs and put to bed. Coleman had Little Gracie over his shoulder because she, too, was out like a light.
The twins were just as sleepy, but were fighting it for all they were worth. Mr. Pickens carried them both in, and I don’t know which of the three was the most grumpy. Hazel Marie was her usual serene self, following them into the bedrooms on the far side of the house and, I assume, putting the three of them to bed.
LuAnne, Etta Mae, and I sat up for an hour or so, letting our dinners settle. It was pleasant to just talk about nothing much between yawns, and especially pleasing to me that LuAnne had not objected to having a roommate. I’d fully expected to hear some complaints from her about sharing a room, especially with Etta Mae. LuAnne could on occasion feel just a little superior to those whom she considered beneath her in the social scheme of things. And ordinarily, Etta Mae would have qualified.
But perhaps, I mused, LuAnne was getting lonely. Granted, Leonard was not what I’d call good company, but she was probably used to having him around, even with his attachment to the television set. I expect, though, that LuAnne was at the point of considering poor company better than none at all. Whatever the reason, I was just glad that she seemed to be enjoying Etta Mae—as who wouldn’t, I’d like to know.
The next morning brought a beautiful clear day, except for the bank of clouds on the eastern horizon, but the sunshine and the lowered wind put us all in good moods. The children were ready for the beach, and Etta Mae could hardly wait to get out in the sun. She was wearing a short cover-up over an eyepoppingly skimpy bathing suit.
As I stood by the sink rinsing breakfast dishes, I saw Binkie push Coleman against a kitchen counter and cover his eyes with her hand. “Eyes front, Buster!” she whispered fiercely to him, laughing as she did so. Coleman laughed, too, then he leaned down and kissed her full on the mouth. I kept rinsing cereal bowls.
Turning, I saw Mr. Pickens raise his eyebrows when Etta Mae’s little robe gaped open. Hazel Marie, walking past him, gave him a pinch as she went.
“Hey, folks,” Sam said, as they began gathering towels, suntan lotion, and all the other paraphernalia they usually took to the beach. “Listen up. Marty has stalled some way off the Florida coast and seems to be drifting out to sea. We’re going to have a beautiful day, so everybody enjoy it—just in case.”
“Oh, I can’t wait!” Etta Mae said, her eyes shining. “I’m going to lie out in the sun all day long. I’ve just been dreaming about this.”
Lloyd came clomping down the stairs from his room at the top of the house. His mother poured a glass of orange juice for him and put slices of bread in the toaster. “Come eat something, sugar,” she said.
“Okay, thanks, Mom. Where’s J.D.?”
“Right here, bub,” Mr. Pickens said as he came from the bedroom. “What’s up?”
As Lloyd slipped onto a stool at the island counter, he said, “You should’ve called me if you needed something from the car last night. I would’ve gotten it for you.”
Mr. Pickens frowned. “I didn’t go out to the car.”
“Well, somebody did.”