Carson looked stricken. “You’re putting the house on the market now?”
“I’m just getting some information, so let’s not fuss. Let the poor man get home before the storm hits.”
“Devlin, wait,” Dora said, coming closer to him. “Since you’re here, I’d like you to meet my son.” She waved Nate closer. “Nate, come meet my good friend Mr. Cassell.”
Devlin’s eyes widened along with his smile. “Hey there, Nate. I’m glad to meet you at last. Your mama told me all about you. In fact, she can’t stop talking about you.” He held out his hand.
Dora cringed inwardly, knowing Nate would not shake it.
“Hi,” said Nate, looking away at the house.
To Devlin’s credit, he let his hand move to his hips without offense. “I hope you’ll come out on my boat sometime. I know spots where there are lots of dolphins and where they do that strand feeding. Do you know what that is?”
Nate shook his head.
“Then I’ll show you. Your mama tells me you like dolphins.”
Nate glanced at the man, nodded abruptly, then turned to Dora. “Can I go inside now? I’m cold.”
“I’ll take him in,” Harper said. “Hi, Devlin,” she added in passing.
“See you, Dev,” said Carson with a short wave, following Harper. “You’d better hurry. The sky looks ready to rip.”
Mamaw offered her hand. “I’ll be looking forward to your report,” she said, and without further word turned and hurried up the stairs.
Dora waited until the others went indoors. Lightning flashed across the sky and by the time the front door was closed, a ripping crack of thunder rent the air. Dora stepped closer to Devlin and he wrapped his arms around her, tugging her against him. Looking up with a coy smile, she surprised him with a long, slow kiss.
“What did I do to deserve that?” he asked lazily, not ready to stop.
“You were kind to my son. And I missed you.”
“I’m here,” Devlin said. Then, locking her gaze in his, he said, “Every day and every night. And I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter Twenty-One
That evening, as predicted by the forecasters, Tropical Storm Lucy whistled and rattled the windows. Rain pounded the roof. But inside Sea Breeze, the lamps were glowing cheerfully. The women decided to mock the storm by having an indoor picnic. They moved the living room furniture, laid out blankets on the floor, and pulled out food from the refrigerator.
Mamaw sat back in her chair and listened to her granddaughters chatting like magpies as they stretched out on the blankets. When they got together, it was almost as if she were invisible. It was a revelation to hear their stories of their worst dates, fad diets they’d tried, fashions they adored, and favorite memories of their days as children at Sea Breeze. As the evening drew on, the stories became more serious. Occasionally she’d spy Harper jotting down notes on her ever-present computer.
While they talked they feasted on cold chicken and shrimp, savory crackers and assorted cheeses, pickles and olives, ripe avocados, and as much ice cream as they could eat. Mamaw feared the electricity would go out and it would all melt.
At nine o’clock the storm ratcheted up a notch. The wind started screaming like a banshee and rain hit the windows horizontally. Suddenly the lights flickered, then everything went black. Mamaw clutched Lucille’s hand beside her, heard the girls suck in a collective breath and Nate’s shriek.
Carson reached for the flashlight she had at her side. With a flick, the long beam of light immediately restored calm to the room. “No need to worry,” she called out. “There are candles and matches on the table.”
Soon the room was alive with dancing light on the walls and ceiling.
“It’s like camping.” Dora turned to Nate. He was sitting rigid, knees close to his cheeks and eyes wide. She smiled encouragingly. “Isn’t it?”
He didn’t reply but scooted closer to her.
“The storm’s getting pretty strong,” Harper said. She looked at the windows with a worried frown. “Are you sure it’s not a hurricane?”
“No, child, that ain’t no hurricane,” Lucille said with a light, cackling laugh. “If it were, you’d know it. This whole house would be rattling, not just the windows. And we wouldn’t be sitting here. We’d be off this island waitin’ it out somewhere north. After Hugo, I won’t stay on the island for no hurricane. Uh-uh,” she said with a shake of her head. “So don’t you worry none. This be just a good summer storm.”
Suddenly the lights were back on.
There was a gasp of surprised delight.
“See?” Lucille said with a smug smile. “What’d I tell you? Just the summer wind.”
Mamaw had an idea that she hoped might distract everyone from the worsening weather. She went to the stereo and searched her CD collection. Her fingers ran along the cases until she found Frank Sinatra. Pulling the CD out, she put it in the stereo and pushed play. There was a click and whirr, then the velvet voice of Frank Sinatra sang out.
The summer wind came blowin’ in from across the sea.
“Edward and I used to dance to this during storms,” Mamaw said, remembering with wistfulness to her tone.
“I remember,” Carson said, rising to her feet. “At the big house on East Bay. Once, I hid on the stairs and watched you.” She held out her arms. “Mamaw, dance with me.”
Mamaw took Carson’s outstretched hand. “I’d love to,” she said, then laughed lightly as Carson led her in the dance. They were both tall and glided gracefully across the floor.
Dora stood and held out her hands to Nate. “Come on, Nate. You’re the man of the house. You have to dance with the ladies.”
To everyone’s surprise, Nate stood up. They all cheered him on as he took his mother’s hands and began to dance a clumsy two-step.
“I don’t think she’ll ever forget this dance,” Carson whispered to Mamaw.
“Nor shall I.”
“I love you, Mamaw.”
“I know you do. I love you, too. My love is unconditional. You know that, don’t you?”
Tears sprang to Carson’s eyes and she nodded, tightening her lips.
Harper sprang to her feet. “Come on, Lucille. We can’t be left out!”