The High Tide Club

Gardiner Bettendorf, Josephine’s big brother, hurried past. Mr. Gardiner had just about quit coming to Talisa, ever since Mrs. Bettendorf died. Josephine said her brother hated to come here because it reminded him of his dead mama, and anyway, he’d been in college and started law school, but now, Josephine said, he had dropped out of that and was getting ready to go to Canada to sign up to be a pilot and bomb the hell out of the Germans.

“Millie?” Gardiner called.

Russell said something that Varina couldn’t quite make out, and the next thing she knew, he was right there, standing under the magnolia tree, and things were starting to get ugly.

Then Millie screamed, and Varina heard bone meeting flesh. Millie screamed again.

And then it was over. Millie rushed past Varina’s hiding place. Her dress was torn at the bodice, and she was crying so hard she never even saw Varina standing there, wondering what to do.

Varina knew she should go too, but she just had to see what would happen next. She darted across the walkway and into the shadows on the other side of the walk. As she crept closer, she could hear the familiar sounds of two men fighting, which she knew well, having older brothers who regularly “tussled,” as her daddy called it, sometimes in fun, but mostly out of anger.

“Uuunhhh,” would be followed by a low groan, then another blow.

Their voices echoed in the night air, cursing—she knew those words too from her brothers, who mostly did it only when their preacher daddy was not within earshot.

Finally, Gardiner staggered onto the walkway. In the moonlight, she could see one of his eyes was swollen, his lip and nose bloodied, his white dinner jacket spotted with more blood.

“Enough!” he shouted. “We’re through here. In the morning, if you’re not on the first boat off this island, my father and I will contact the sheriff, and I’ll tell him exactly what you did to Millie.”

Russell stepped into the moonlight too. A gash above his eye leaked blood, as did one on his jaw. “Charges? What kind of charges? Millie is my fiancée, and what I do to her or with her is none of your goddamn business.”

“She’s not your property yet,” Gardiner said, his voice low. “Now, get out of my sight. And I warn you, if you lay hands on her or try to force yourself on her again that way, I’ll leave the law out of it and take care of you the way people down here handle things.”

“You don’t have the balls,” Russell taunted.

Gardiner turned and walked away. Varina shrank back into the shrubbery and watched as he skirted the house and the veranda. She glanced up at the sky. Clouds rolled past and obscured the moon. The temperature had dropped, and the wind had picked up. Rain was coming. She needed to hurry home or her dress and shoes would be ruined. She would have to leave the way Gardiner had gone. But quietly.

She took a step in that direction, and her shoe landed squarely on a dried twig that snapped loudly.

“Who’s there?” Russell called.

Varina scurried back into the boxwood hedge and stepped on another twig.

The big man was at her side in an instant, reaching through the tangle of underbrush, grabbing her by the arm. Thorns snagged on her silk dress, scratching the bare skin on her arms and legs. Varina clung helplessly to a branch of the shrub, but it broke off in her hand, and a moment later, he’d hauled her onto the walkway.

“Who are you? Were you spying on us just now?”

She was so terrified she was unable to speak. He slapped her face so hard she felt her ears ringing.

“Damn it, girl, who are you?”

“N-n-nobody,” she stammered. “I didn’t see anything. I was just walking home.”

“What are you doing up here?” he demanded.

“I was working at the party,” Varina whispered. “In the kitchen. Mrs. Dorris, she said I could go home, so that’s what I was doing.”

His eyes narrowed as he looked her over, up and down, the way you’d look at a horse or a mule you were sizing up to buy.

“Where’d a servant girl get an expensive dress like this?” He ran his hand down her shoulder and over her chest, right over her breast. He flicked the pearl pin with one finger.

“I know this pin. It belongs to my fiancée. Did you sneak upstairs in the house and steal this pin? And that dress? What else did you steal, girl?”

At first, Varina was too terrified to speak.

“Nothin’,” she finally managed. “I didn’t steal nothin’, I swear. Miss Josephine gave me this dress as a present. And Miss Millie gave me the pin.”

“Liar,” he spat. He pinched her nipple so hard she screamed, and he clamped his hand over her mouth.

“Millie never gave jewelry to a colored girl. You stole these things. I know you did. That’s why you were hiding out here. Like a thief.”

Varina couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t speak. Finally, he moved his hand. She exhaled and began sobbing.

“I’m not a thief. You can ask Miss Josephine. I’m not. I was just going home. I got to get home now. My daddy will be looking for me.”

“Your daddy will just have to wait,” Russell said. He jerked her arm so hard she thought it would pull from its socket. “You’re coming with me. I think the two of us will have our own private party.”

15

Felicia Shaddix leaned in close to Varina. “Now, Auntie, you knew that old lady had cancer. Louette told you. I told you.”

Varina nodded and dabbed at her eyes with a crochet-edged handkerchief. “Cancer, yes. But nobody said nothin’ about dying.” She looked over at Brooke. “You sure you got that right?”

“Josephine told me herself.”

“I should go see her. Take her some of my soup. She always loved my beef consommé. Mrs. Dorris showed me how to make it so that it was clear as could be. You could see the bottom of the bowl,” Varina said. She turned to Felicia. “I used to make that consommé for all you children when you were sick. Remember?”

“We were your family,” Felicia said coldly. “You took care of all of us, Auntie. And now I’m taking care of you. But Josephine Warrick is not your family. What did she ever give you besides some old clothes she didn’t want anymore?”

“Josephine is my friend,” Varina said. “She’s got her ways, that’s true. But she is my friend. I told you she would do right by us, didn’t I? And that’s what this lady lawyer is going to see about.” She gave Brooke a warm smile. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” Brooke said.

“We’ll see.” Felicia looked around the office at the stained, fraying carpet, secondhand furniture, and single bank of file cabinets. She stared at Brooke’s framed college degrees.

“Emory Law, huh?”

“That’s right,” Brooke said.

“Felicia went to Emory University too,” Varina said proudly. “They gave her a full scholarship. And she graduated first in her class.”

“Undergrad,” Felicia said. She turned back to Brooke, crossed and recrossed her slender legs. “You know, my aunt asked Josephine, only a few months ago, if she would consider deeding over the land at Oyster Bluff to our family. And Josephine refused. Threw us out. It was really ugly.”

“So I heard,” Brooke said. “If it’s any consolation, I think she now regrets the way that meeting ended. And that’s why I wanted to talk to your aunt. Josephine has authorized me to start the process of returning the property at Oyster Bluff to the people who live there.”