The High Tide Club

“For real?” Brooke asked.

“Absolutely. It was in all the newspapers back in the day. There was even a piece in The Saturday Evening Post. I found all the clippings in Grandma’s scrapbooks.”

“Who was this Russell Strickland?” Brooke asked. “Why was he on Talisa? How did he know Josephine?”

Lizzie took the last sip of her mojito. “He was from a wealthy family in Boston. According to the newspapers, he came down to Talisa because Josephine’s family was throwing an engagement party for him and his fiancée.”

“Who was his fiancée?” Marie asked.

Lizzie stared at her intently. “Her name was Mildred Everhart.”

26

October 1941

Ruth gingerly touched one of the angry bruises on Millie’s exposed upper thigh. “Did he…?”

Millie reached again for the whiskey bottle and gulped. “Not this time. He was about to, but Gardiner followed us out into the garden. He saw what was happening and made Russell stop.” She blinked back more tears. “Gardiner said he’d kill Russell if he didn’t get off the island. And then he took me back to the house.”

“You said he didn’t do it this time,” Josephine broke in. “Does that mean he’d…” She lowered her voice. “Has he forced himself on you before?”

Even in the moonlight, they could see Millie blush deeply. She looked away. “He only does it when he’s drunk.”

“When isn’t he drunk?” Ruth demanded, her fists balled up as though she were about to launch a counterattack on her friend’s fiancé. “You can’t marry him, Millie. We won’t let you, will we, girls?”

She looked to Josephine and Varina for an answer.

“No!” Josephine said.

Varina shook her head mutely, her eyes wide. She snuck another sip from the bottle of Jim Beam and this time immediately began coughing and wheezing.

“It burns!” she sputtered.

“Here, Varina,” Millie said, handing the younger girl the cup of champagne. “This tastes much nicer.”

Varina hesitated, then took the cup.

“Just a sip at first,” Ruth suggested.

Varina took a cautious drink. “It tickles,” she reported, giggling.

“Exactly,” Ruth said. “That’s the whole point of champagne. It’s tickly and bubbly, and it makes you feel giddy.”

“Even when you shouldn’t,” Millie added.

Varina smiled and took another sip, and then a few more. “Oooh,” she said, looking up at the sky. “I’m dizzy!” She flopped backward onto the blanket. “Why you gotta marry that man?” she asked, poking Millie in the arm. “He hurt you bad, didn’t he?”

Millie sighed. “You wouldn’t understand, Varina. You have a father and three brothers to help take care of you. My father is dead, and Mother and I don’t have any money. We have to depend on my grandmother to support us, and she’s so mean about it.”

Varina looked at Josephine and Ruth. “Your friends have money. Maybe they can share so you don’t have to get married.”

“She’s right,” Ruth said. “I bet if I told my father how awful Russell is, he’d help you.”

“My papa would give you money too. Russell Strickland is not the only man in the world,” Josephine declared.

“He’s the only man in my world,” Millie replied. She held out her left hand and waggled the finger upon which perched a perfect five-carat diamond solitaire. “My family is broke, girls, and that’s no joke.” She giggled at her rhyme.

“My mother says your granny is richer than God,” Ruth scoffed.

“Ain’t nobody richer than God,” Varina said solemnly.

“We really are broke,” Millie insisted. “Grandmama has been living on the interest of the money Granddad left her, but now that’s gone, and she’s dipping into capital to keep the house going. You girls know Mama sold our house last year and moved in with Grandmama. I just can’t ask her to support me too.”

“You could get a job,” Josephine pointed out. “You’re a smart girl, Millie. You always made the best grades in school.”

“Doing what?” Millie scoffed. “I’ve never had a job in my life. I don’t know how to type. I don’t even have a college degree. Russell says there’s no need for me to finish school, since we’re getting married. And he’d never let me take a job, even if I could find one.”

“You’re not going to marry him,” Ruth said fiercely. “We won’t let you.”

“Ruth is right. I don’t care what we have to do, you are not going to marry Russell Strickland,” Josephine said.

Millie picked up the champagne bottle and took another drink before handing the bottle to Ruth. “Let’s not talk about it anymore. It’s too depressing.” She paused, then unfastened her bra and stepped out of her panties.

In the moonlight, the women could see the bruises on her thighs, hips, upper arms, and collarbone.

“Come on, girls. Eat, drink, and be merry, for next month I’ll be married. This could be the last meeting of the High Tide Club!” She whooped loudly, then raced for the shore. Josephine shrugged and gestured at Varina.

“Come on, Varina. We can’t let her swim all by herself.”

Varina giggled and stood unsteadily. “Ooh. My daddy will tan my hide if he finds out I went swimming naked.” She hesitated, then took off her shoes and unfastened the strap of her overalls.

“Come on in, girls,” Millie called, splashing in the waves. “And bring the champagne!”

* * *

Two hours later, dressed again, the four young women lolled on the blanket, gazing up at the stars.

Varina held up the empty champagne bottle and sighed heavily. “Too bad. I sure do like the taste of that stuff.”

Ruth propped herself up on an elbow and yawned. “Wonder what time it is?”

“I don’t know, but I’m hungry.” Varina sat up and began rummaging through the picnic hamper. She held up a sandwich and greedily wolfed it down.

“Do you think we should be getting back?” Millie asked. “It has to be after midnight.”

“I don’t feel like going back yet,” Josephine declared. “It’s our last night together before everybody leaves the island. Let’s make it special.”

“Yes!” Ruth agreed. “Why should we go back to the house? Let’s stay out all night.”

“Whoopee!” Varina chortled. “I ain’t ever had a spend-the-night before.”

Josephine glanced over at her young friend. “Girls, I believe Varina is officially tiddled.”

“Tiddled?” Varina frowned.

“Yep,” Ruth nodded. “Sloshed. Rip-roaring.”

“What’s that?” Varina asked, grabbing another sandwich.

“Sweetie,” Millie said, “I think you’re…”

Before she could finish the sentence, Varina grimaced. “Uh-oh.” She stood and dashed toward the nearest dune, before bending over and being violently sick.

“Drunk,” Josephine agreed.

Varina made it back to the blanket, where she collapsed, holding her head between both her hands. “I don’t feel so good. My head is spinning.”