Bulls Island (19 page)

“Enlighten me.”

I told him how I had been chosen for the project in the first place so that he understood that declining the assignment would’ve meant
certain death for my career at ARC. Then I went through what J.D. had presented to me.

“Look, they could ruin the whole island if they wanted to, but they don’t. Out of the two thousand plus acres they could develop, they’re only developing housing on two hundred right now.”

“You’re gonna expect me to believe that they could put up four thousand houses, but they’re only going to build four hundred? How’s this boondoggle supposed to pay for itself? I think you may be naive on this one, Betts. You know the Langleys. They are the greediest sons of bitches I ever knew, pardon the expression. And that ‘sweet boy,’ J.D.? Hmmph. He’s just like his old man. Big Jim Langley could talk a dog off a meat truck. I wouldn’t believe a daggum thing he says.”

All my alarms went off again and I became suspicious of J.D. Maybe his intentions were honorable, but would Louisa override them?

“And that’s exactly why I’m here. To protect my company’s investment.”

“Well, you sure have one deep and tough row to hoe. Hmmph. Anytime you need a sounding board, and I
mean
this, call me. I can smell Langley bull like a boykin can flush out a dove.”

“He swears they’re not touching the wetlands.”

“Perhaps, but this is a bottom-line game here and either they’re building more houses than he’s telling you or they’re going to charge some exorbitant membership fee for the golf club. Or something. I’d be
very
wary if I were you. And you realize how seriously unpopular this entire development is. Public sentiment despises developers, even if Al Gore himself is a paid consultant.”

“Bringing Gore in might not be a bad idea. At least to ask him to give it all a cursory glance.”

“What was that?”

“I said, bringing Gore in might not be such a bad idea, you know,
just ask him to give it all a look.” Apparently Daddy was a little hard of hearing, but who wasn’t?

“I thought that was what you said. Well, I don’t think so. It’s not what he does best. Besides, if you love Al Gore, as I suspect you do, you wouldn’t want to jeopardize his reputation with any of the Langley shenanigans.”

There and then we had found a sliver of common ground. My father would be my resident guru if I needed one. Maybe.

We made our way through the potpies and then picked over two slices of apple pie à la mode until it was obvious it was time to say good night.

“Do you want to come back to the house?” Dad said.

“Joanie’s there?”

“Most likely.”

“Know what, Dad? I just saw you for the first time in almost twenty years, and J.D., too. If Joanie wanted to see me, she would’ve been here.”

“Now, don’t go starting trouble with your—”

“I’m not starting anything. I’m exhausted.”

He looked at me and saw me not as the ill-tempered woman my sister had become but as a reasonable adult who had taken enough bullets for one day. As the old warriors would say, the day had been “target rich” for the other side.

Outside on the sidewalk, after Sela refused to let us pay for dinner and we had thanked her profusely, Daddy and I hugged and lingered in the embrace long enough to be satisfied that we were on the road to some kind of certifiable reconciliation. Hopefully—hopefully—it would improve with each day. Until he found out what I had been hiding from everyone, that is. I hoped with everything I had in me that I could build a base of love and trust that would be solid enough to support me when Adrian eventually arrived.

“I’ll call you tomorrow?” he said.

“Sure. Here’s my cell, and the office number’s there, too, and my e-mail…”

He looked at my card and then looked into my eyes.

“Your mother would have been very proud of you, Betts. I know I am.”

“Thanks, Daddy. I love you, you know.”

“I know you do. And in my own stubborn way, I love you. Oh, my goodness! It’s been such a long time since I spoke those words.”

“It’s okay.”

The rain had cleared up and night was finally on our heels. Somehow, when it was dark I gave myself permission to relax and I could feel my shoulders drop back into their natural position. I watched my father walk away. I had offered him a ride home, but he had declined, saying the exercise was good for him, and it probably was. He strolled up the empty block, tilted a little to the left, but he did not lean on the umbrella for support. Suddenly, as though he could feel my eyes on his back, he stopped in the middle of the next block, turned to me, and blew me a kiss. I blew him one back and thought I had been through all I could take for one day without dissolving into a pool of my own tears.

On the drive back to the Isle of Palms, I thought of calling Adrian. What would I say to him? That I had seen his father and grandfather that day? The ones he thought were dead? That they were fine and happy? There was a lump in my throat and I knew I was going to have a hard time sleeping that night. But to my surprise, I woke at seven, having slept the sleep of the dead.

I threw back the rubberized blackout curtains and was nearly blinded by the sun’s reflection on the water. It was going to be a gorgeous day. Groundbreaking, in fact. What to wear to a groundbreaking ceremony?

Wardrobe fiasco.

If I wore something like black trousers, a white T-shirt, a jacket,
and loafers, I would look like Miss City Slicker who in all likelihood did not know diddly-squat about what I was doing except ruining Bulls Island to make money for some unseen suits up north. And I would perspire myself into a dangerously low electrolyte count. Fainting at a press conference would not do.

If I wore a khaki safari jacket, jeans, and a cotton shirt with a Kaminski straw hat, I would look like Clem Kadiddlehopper, who
definitely
did not know diddly. A dress was out of the question. Or was it?

Digging through my closet, I found a black cotton-jersey wrap dress that I would wear with black-and-pink-print low-heeled Pucciesque pumps. I had a thin pink cotton sweater that I could wrap around my shoulders to ward off the sun or use to swat bugs. I remembered I had packed a great-looking triple-strand necklace of baroque pearls, earrings, and large black sunglasses. These details would send a serious message. It probably wasn’t perfect for the terrain, but it would photograph well. A girl had to keep her priorities straight.

Sandi and I were to meet everyone at the Awendaw dock at three in the afternoon. We spent the morning at the office rehashing the prior night, straightening my hair again, and running around to Stella Nova for my own cache of mineral makeup and other products that suited the climate. And sunscreen. Oh, and bug repellent. I bought a wildly expensive black patent-leather quilted tote bag to hold everything. I thought I was looking fashionably in-the-know. I hoped.

At the office, Sandi chattered away, probably because hearing more about J.D. and my father was too much to process.

“My brother Cam’s house is a wreck. Boy, does he need a woman or what? I spent last night looking around to see what I could beg, borrow, or steal and he’s got nothing but big wads of dog hair all over the house. His yard looks like a hillbilly lives
there. He needs a maid, a landscaper, and I don’t know what all. Plus, he’s miserable.”

“He sounds perfect for my miserable sister, Joanie. She’s the queen of animal rescue in Charleston. And morbidly single.”

“Seriously? Maybe we should introduce them. How old is she?”

“Thirty-four—no, thirty-five. How important are looks to him?”

“Well, the age is right, but he’s as shallow as, I don’t know…he thinks he’s gorgeous or something.”

“Yeah. They all do. Maybe they should both clean their mirrors and then take a good look.”

“Truly. We’d better get a move on if we want to be there on time. Traffic, you know. Seventeen is brutal.”

“You’re telling me? It appears that the town fathers need some guidance in their infrastructure planning. It took me almost forty-five minutes to get here today.”

“Crazy, right? Let’s go.”

“Sandi?”

“Yeah?”

“Lose the gum.”

“Sorry,” she said, and used a tissue to discard it. We both laughed.

We took Sela’s car and drove along the highway without the benefit of the radio. My mind, which I thought was a million miles away, was apparently wired into Sandi’s.

“Is his wife coming?” she asked.

“Whose wife? J.D.’s?”

“Uh, yes. Who else? What’s her name?”

“Valerie.”

“Well, too bad for her.”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because you ain’t never looked this good as long as I’ve known you.”

“That would be a mere two years?”

“Two years at ARC is a looooong time!”

I made the right turn at Seewee’s Restaurant to travel down the long road toward the government dock at Garris Landing.

“It’s a lifetime. Who’s catering this shindig?”

“Tidewater Foods. Fabulous. Cam took the day off to help them set up. Best barbecue, I don’t care what anyone says.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. You’ll see.”

“Why did I even ask? Of course this entire soiree is managed down to the embossed napkins, am I right?” I said.

“I wanted to surprise you!”

“You never cease to amaze me.”

I pulled into a parking spot and saw the noisy crowd, milling around on the huge dock. The farther we walked toward them, the farther away they seemed. It had to be a dock constructed to hide battleships in case of a national emergency, but as far as I knew, it only ran the Coastal Expeditions’ ferryboat back and forth between Mount Pleasant and Bulls Island.

When I got close enough, I saw that there were almost a hundred protesters with signs. They were chanting something about saving the red wolves and migratory birds. Then I spotted Joanie among them, but she didn’t see me. She was dressed like a slob in baggy khakis and a T-shirt with a German shepherd on it, blinged out with press-on fake stones.

“That’s my sister,” I said to Sandi, pointing as discreetly as possible.

“You’re kidding, right?” Sandi lowered her sunglasses and squinted.

“I only wish,” I said. “Will the mortification never end?”

I had two choices. I could greet her, give her a hug, and be a lady about finding her in this most unfortunate circumstance. Or I could ignore her, get on the ferry, hide behind a pole, and hope she hadn’t
seen me. I opted for decency and bravery. Knowing that Louisa Langley was on the island, waiting to sink her teeth into my neck, made saying “Hello, Joanie” seem pretty minor.

I worked my way through the crowd to her side. She did not recognize me as I approached. I took off my sunglasses and tapped her on her shoulder.

“Is this my little sister?”

“Betts?” She lowered her sign and her jaw in the same moment.

I smiled and threw open my arms to give her a hug.

“What? What are you doing here?” She gave me the most impotent of all hugs in return.

“I called you and told you I was coming, Joanie.”

“I never got a message from you,” she said with a straight face.

“It’s not nice to lie to your family, Joanie,” I whispered.

Silence.

“I had dinner with Daddy last night.”

More silence.

I looked around and put my sunglasses back on. Although it was deep in the afternoon, the ground where I stood still radiated heat.

“So, I see you’re politically involved. That’s good! It’s good to have a cause.”

I didn’t think I sounded patronizing, but she apparently thought otherwise because she tilted her head to one side and gave me a look that would melt the remains of the polar ice cap.

“Well! I’m not surprised to see that you’re on the
wrong
side of the cause,” she said, and actually snarled. “As usual.”

This was very stupid and we were not going to get anywhere as a family if she was going to paint a line down the middle of the road when the mood struck.

“Joanie, Joanie. I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you come over to the island with me, as my guest? Put aside your doubts for the mo
ment and just listen to the plan. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised by what you might learn. Come on. What do you say? We’re having a big barbecue and it will be fun.”

“Is that all you think about? Making money? Ruining the environment? Having fun?”

“No. You know what? You’re being gratuitously nasty, Joanie. I am extending a perfectly civil invitation to you that your activist cohorts here won’t enjoy, and you just stand there and hurl insults at me. Not nice. I haven’t seen you in nineteen years. Don’t you think you might give me a chance?”

She looked at the ground and then she ran her hands through her hair.

“Okay.” She handed her sign to someone next to her and said to a very unattractive woman, “I’m going over to Bulls with my sister. She’s a partner in this morass of bull.”