Lessons of a Lowcountry Summer (15 page)

Their cooking and serving duties completed, Brandon and Christian sat down and began eating. The pitchers of punch disappeared quickly, and Theo got up, returned to the house, and came back with two more.

He pointed to a pitcher filled with a pale yellow liquid. “Grown folks.”

The three Andersons exchanged knowing glances, then nodded. All knew how their older brother felt about underage drinking.

Christian reached for an empty platter. “I'm going to clean up now.”

Theo frowned at him. “What's your hurry? We still haven't had dessert.”

He gave his guardian a direct stare. “We can eat dessert later. It's time we left for the movies, or we're going to be late.”

Theo returned the stare. “Then go.”

“We… we don't have to clear the table?” Noelle asked, her voice rising slightly in surprise.

Theo affected a stern expression. “If you're going to the movies, then go. Otherwise stay and clean up. No speeding,” he called out to Christian as he shot up from the table. Then the three teenagers were gone, racing in the direction of the carport.

Helen chuckled softly. “I've never seen them move that fast.”

Shaking his head slowly, Theo said, “I don't know why they're in such a hurry to go see a movie they've seen before.”

Hope knew the answer. Going off without an adult chaperone was a show of independence, a sign that they could be trusted. She took another sip of her vodka lemonade, staring at Theo over the rim of her glass. What she saw in his gaze should have shocked her, but it didn't, because she felt the same.

His gaze dropped to her bared shoulders, then to her breasts. Her hand stilled, as if paralyzed. She couldn't move, breathe. He radiated a sensuality that drew her like a magnet. Reluctantly she pulled her gaze away. Only then was she able to breathe normally.

“I'll help clean up.”

“No, you won't,” Helen argued. “You're a guest.”

Turning her head slowly, Hope looked at Theo, who took furtive sips of his drink. “Do you plan on inviting me back?”

He seemed startled by her query. “Of course.”

Placing her napkin on the table, she began to push back her chair. “Then that settles it. I'm not a guest.”

Theo moved quickly, pulling back her chair. His left arm curved around her waist. “It's not good to get on Helen's bad side,” he whispered close to her ear.

Hope shivered despite the heat. “Let me handle this, please.” He dropped his arm, and she felt his loss immediately. She liked him touching her. “Helen, I'd like to talk to you about something.”

The bright blue eyes were suddenly alert. “What about?”

Leaning down, she whispered, “Female stuff.”

“Of course, dear. We'll talk in the kitchen.” She stood up and motioned to Theo. “You stay and relax. Hope and I will clean up everything.”

He sat back down, shaking his head. At forty years of age, he still did not understand women. In the six years he had come to know Helen Bryant, she had never permitted anyone to help her clean her kitchen, yet she hadn't known Hope more than three hours and without warning she had reversed her hard stance.

He was tempted to bring some of the dishes into the house but quickly changed his mind. He would do as Helen suggested—sit and relax. He moved away from the table and lay on a chaise under the protective cover of an umbrella. He was not only full but also sleepy. He doubted whether he had had more than three hours of uninterrupted sleep, because his dreams were disturbed by the images of the woman who had spent the past three hours at his table.

There was no doubt his brothers were as intrigued by her as he was. Christian had whispered to him that Hope was
hot,
while Brandon surreptitiously had given him the thumbs-up sign.

McKinnon Island was good for Noelle, Christian and Brandon. It was even good for Helen. She cooked less and did not have as much laundry. Most times the teenagers lived in swimsuits, while grilling outdoors. The only thing she complained about was their tracking sand into the house.

Theo opened his eyes and smiled. Yes, McKinnon Island was very good for him because of Hope. It was the first time in a very long time that he wanted to see a woman not because he wanted her to share his bed. She made him laugh, and she challenged him. Letting out an audible sigh, he closed his eyes and within minutes succumbed to a gentle peace that had eluded him most of his life.

 

Theo woke up,
startled. He thought he'd heard voices. Raising his left arm, he stared at his watch. It was almost seven. The afternoon had sped past. Swinging his legs over the chaise, he sat up. Hope and Helen were nowhere to be seen. He pushed off the chaise and went into the kitchen. Everything had been put away.

A shiver snaked its way up his spine. The house was too cool. He stopped to adjust the thermostat before he walked into the family room. Helen sat in a deep club chair, her bare feet on a matching ottoman. She was reading the latest James Patterson Alex Cross mystery.

Her head came up and she smiled. “I suppose you're looking for Hope? She's down on the beach,” Helen continued before he could answer. “She's very nice, Theo. A lot better than some of the others I've seen you with.”

He flashed a half-smile. “So, you like her, too?”

She stared at him with surprise. “You're not going to tell me to mind my business?”

“Not today, Miss Helen,” he said, grinning.

“Invite her back tomorrow.” She wasn't certain Theo heard her, because he was already out the door, heading in the direction of the beach.

 

 

T
heo spied Hope
sitting on the sand. She'd taken off her shoes. Slowing his pace, he watched her as he closed the distance between them. Wisps of jet-black hair had escaped the twist at the back of her head and trailed over her nape and shoulder. She was so still she could have been a statue. Then she moved, cradling her hands in her lap. She appeared to be meditating. He stopped, prepared to retreat, when she turned her head and looked at him, smiling. He sat down beside her, close enough for their shoulders to touch.

“I hope you'll forgive me for not being the attentive host.”

She turned and looked at him. “Why? Because you fell asleep?”

She had a wonderful voice—cloaking, sensual and seductive. “Yes.”

“I probably would've joined you if I'd remained on the chaise. That's the reason I came down here. I've been taking in the view.”

Theo's gaze shifted from Hope's face to the expanse of ocean in front of him. “It is magnificent. The first time I came down here all I thought about was how the first Africans who stepped foot on this island must have felt seeing it for the first time. Were they frightened? Did it remind them of home? Did they ever believe they would make it back across to reunite with their families?”

Hope stared at Theo's profile. “I used to wonder the same thing whenever I summered here as a child. My great-grandparents died before I was born. However, Grandmomma told me that there was a time when a lot of McKinnon was jungle. The trees and underbrush were so thick that sunlight never touched the ground.”

“How old were you when you began spending summers here?”

“My parents brought us down when we were toddlers. The first summer I remember staying without my parents was the year I turned nine. My two older brothers were involved in summer youth programs back in New Jersey, so they didn't have to stay. And my younger sister cried so much my parents took her back with them.

“This suited me because then I had Grandmomma and Grandpapa to myself. I'd become a regular farm girl. I got up early to gather eggs from the chicken, then eat with Grandpapa before he went out on his fishing boat. I'd help weed the vegetable garden, sit on the porch and shell peas, piece quilts, and listen to the old people tell their stories about ‘yondah' times before I'd help my grandmother cook supper.

“Even though we were isolated, everyone managed to keep up with events going on in the world beyond McKinnon. While the country was fighting over civil rights and the war in Vietnam, the islanders went on with their lives just like their grandparents and great-grandparents. That was when there weren't too many whites left on McKinnon.”

“When did most of them leave?”

“After the Civil War.”

“Why then?”

“The plantation economic system had vanished. Former slave owners returned to the mainland, while the Gullah stayed.”

“Do you understand Gullah?”

Hope smiled. “Yes. But I don't speak it well. My mother wouldn't let any of her children speak it.”

Theo arched an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“She said it was too African.” Her gaze met Theo's. “Tell me about your Gullah roots. How did you get to the West Coast?”

“My maternal grandfather, whom I don't remember, was from these parts. He got a job as a porter on the railroad and found himself heading west. The first time he saw California he thought he had come to the Promised Land. He quit the railroad, even though it was considered a good job in those days, and went to work in one of the newer hotels in San Francisco as a handyman. That's when he met my grandmother.”

“She also worked at the hotel?”

Smiling, Theo shook his head. “No. She was a nurse. He was taken to a municipal hospital after he'd fallen down an elevator shaft, breaking his leg. She took a liking to him after he'd been placed on her ward. Once he was discharged, they began courting and married three months later.”

“It sounds like a romance novel.”

“She always said that a woman may love a lot of men, but will fall in love only once in her life.”

“Is it the same for men, Theo?”

He shook his head. “I wouldn't know.” And he didn't, because he'd never been in love. “Have you ever been in love, Hope?”

Why, she thought, did he make her name sound like a caress? A cynical smile twisted her mouth. “I thought I was.”

“What happened?” he asked after a comfortable silence.

“He preferred someone else.” Theo's head came around slowly, his expression mirroring incredulity.

She smiled. “What's the matter?”

“I can't believe he left
you?”

Her expression sobered as she gave him a long, penetrating look. “No. I left
him.”
Changing the subject, Hope asked, “How was it growing up in southern California?”

Theo was perceptive enough to know that Hope had deftly redirected the topic of conversation away from her. And he did not have to have a doctorate in psychology to know that she had come to McKinnon to recover from a failed relationship.

“I didn't grow up in southern California.”

“Where did you grow up?”

“In the Bay Area. I was born in Los Angeles. I was three weeks old when my mother left me with my grandmother to bond with her first grandchild. The bonding continued for the next thirty years.”

“Are you saying your grandmother raised you?”

“Yes.”

Hope detected a hint of censure in his tone. “Are you still angry with your mother?”

“She wasn't my mother, Hope. She happened to have been the woman who gave birth to me. My grandmother was mother, father, and everything else in between.”

Hope's gaze filled with an emotion he did not want to feel: pity. The seconds ticked by until a full minute had elapsed.

“Tell me, Hope,” he whispered softly, “what it is you're thinking?”

She blinked once. “What makes you think I'm thinking anything?”

“You have a way of tilting your head slightly when you're deep in thought.”

“You noticed that?” It had been her mother who had first called her attention to that particular expression.

“I've noticed a lot of things about you.”

“Which are?”

“You're forthcoming when it comes to giving advice, but reluctant to talk about yourself.”

“You forget that I'm paid to give advice.”

“Here on McKinnon?”

Her brow furrowed. “Touché, Theo.”

He leaned closer so that her bare shoulder pressed against the sleeve of his shirt. “I'm not into tit for tat, so if I've insulted you, then please accept my apology.”

She shook her head. “There's nothing to apologize for.” Shifting slightly, she gave him a direct stare. She was entranced by the silent sadness in his eyes, and she longed to put her arms around his neck and hold him.

Theo's left arm came up and curved around her waist. Hope leaned into him. The motion was so natural, as if he had executed it hundreds of times before. Her right arm slipped around his waist, and they sat silently, motionlessly, and watched the tide come in and deposit its riches on the sand before it retreated. Somewhere between the time when the sun sank lower on the horizon and streaks of orange crisscrossed the sky, Hope trustingly laid her head on Theo's shoulder, closed her eyes, and slept.

 

Theo was still sitting
on the sand with his arm around Hope when his siblings returned from the movies. Noelle walked over and sat down beside him. His free arm went around her shoulders.

“How was the movie?” They had gone to see part three in
The Lord of the Rings
trilogy:
The Return of the King.

“Even better the second time. I think I want to read the books.”

Theo stared down at Noelle smiling up at him. “Are you certain?” She nodded. “The next time we go into Savannah we'll stop in a bookstore and buy them. I remember seeing them in a four-book slipcase.”

“What's the fourth book?” she asked.

 

“The Hobbit.
It's the first book that sets up the trilogy.”

“Do you think I can finish four books before we go back to California?”

“I don't know. Don't put that kind of pressure on yourself, Noelle. It's all right if you don't finish them until after we return.” Theo knew his sister was anxious about the upcoming school year because she'd made the honor roll despite the upheaval going on in her young life. “You're going to do all right, sweetheart.”

Noelle giggled. “I'm not your sweetheart,” she said close to his ear.

“If you're not, then who is?”

She cupped a hand over his ear. “Miss Hope.”

Theo decided to play along with his sister. “But she didn't say that she'd be my sweetheart.”

“Did you ask her?”

“No,” he whispered back.

“Then, why don't you ask her?”

Lowering his head, he dropped a kiss on her braided head. “Maybe I will.”

“Don't take too long, big brother, or you're going to lose her.”

He chuckled softly. “When did you get so smart?”

“I don't know,” Noelle said, shrugging a slender shoulder. “You're smart and Christian and Brandon are smart.”

Hope felt like a voyeur listening to the conversation between Theo and his sister, but she was loathe to stir and end the easy camaraderie between the two. She had been hard-pressed not to laugh when Noelle had asked her brother if he had asked her to be his sweetheart, and that made her think about what if. What if Theo had been her lover instead of Kendall? Would he have deceived her with another woman? After all, his reputation for dating a lot of women was always fodder for the supermarket tabloids.

Tiring of the subterfuge, she moaned softly and opened her eyes. Tilting her chin, she smiled up at Theo. “I'm sorry I used you for a pillow.”

“There's nothing to apologize for.”

Noelle peered around Theo, smiling. “He's a good pillow, isn't he?”

Hope returned her smile. “The best.”

Theo dropped his arms, stood up in one graceful motion, and stretched. “I don't know about you guys, but I'm ready for dessert.” He pulled Hope and Noelle up with a minimum of effort, then bent over to pick up Hope's shoes.

“Race you back to the house,” Noelle called out as she sprinted up the hill toward the house.

Hope looked at Theo then began running, with him only steps behind her. She gulped a lungful of air and put her head down, increasing her pace. She ran not to keep up but to win.

Theo couldn't believe Hope was outrunning him despite the fact that he had longer legs. She was not only shapely but she was also in shape. His competitive instincts kicked in, and he quickened his pace. He and Hope made it to the patio at the same time, Noelle several steps ahead of them.

He dropped her shoes, curved an arm around Hope's waist and lifted her high off her feet. He swung her around several times as she pleaded with him to put her down. He did, but not before he brushed his mouth over hers. The teasing stopped the instant they swallowed each other's breath.

Holding onto his neck, her head level with his, Hope stared at him. “Please.” Her breasts were crushed against his chest, the nipples hardening within seconds. His gaze shifted downward as he complied, her body still in contact with his. Her bare feet touched the still warm concrete. She felt every muscle, curve and dip in his physique. Electricity snaked through her body with a shiver of wanting.

“Please what, Hope?”

Her gaze never wavered. She was certain he could feel her heartbeat drumming against the expanse of his chest. “Let me go.”

“I will even though I don't want to.” He dropped his arms, bent over and picked up her shoes. His fingers caught her right ankle and he put the shoe on her foot, forcing her to place a hand on his shoulder to keep her balance. He repeated the motion with the left shoe. Theo straightened, smiling. “By golly, they fit,” he teased in a very proper British accent.

Resting her head on his chest, Hope laughed until her eyes filled with tears. “You know you're a little crazy?”

“Aren't we all a little crazy, Dr. Sutton?”

She sighed and nodded. “You're right about that.”