The High Tide Club
“Did Louette tell you she has rooms ready for you?” Josephine asked. “I thought I’d made it clear that I expected everybody to stay over.”
Brooke bit back her retort. Josephine Warrick at ninety-nine was still very much used to getting her way.
Instead, Brooke shrugged off her irritation. “Louette gave me a tour of the upstairs and showed me our rooms and asked us to let you know dinner will be ready at seven, if that’s all right.”
“That’ll be fine,” Josephine said regally.
Brooke held out a white paper bag. “And in the meantime, Shug got back from the mainland with your new medicine. You’re supposed to take it at dinnertime.”
“Pills. Always more pills,” Josephine fretted.
“She also suggested you probably need to rest before then, since you didn’t sleep at all last night,” Brooke said. “And I have to agree.” She looked at the others. “Since we’re apparently all staying for dinner, I guess the rest of this story can wait until then.”
“And people say I’m bossy,” Josephine said, making a face. She waved her hand. “All right. For once, she’s right. I suppose I could close my eyes for a few minutes.”
* * *
Brooke led the group up the broad staircase to the second floor. The silk damask wallpaper in the stair hall was peeling off in sheets, the Persian stair runner was faded and threadbare, and the curved mahogany handrail wobbled beneath their hands.
“I can’t even imagine what it cost to build this place over a hundred years ago,” Marie said, pointing up at the once glittering, multitiered chandelier above them. “If I’m not mistaken, that’s Waterford crystal.”
“I can’t imagine what it would cost to make it livable again,” Lizzie said. She glanced back at Gabe, who was bringing up the rear of the caravan, behind Felicia, who was slowly guiding her great-aunt up the stairs. “Is she leaving money for the upkeep of this white elephant?”
He smiled and said nothing.
At the top of the landing, Brooke pointed to the right. “Lizzie, your bedroom is the second doorway from the end. There’s a bathroom right next door, although it’s not attached. Mom, you and I are doubling up in what used to be the master bedroom, which is at the very end.” She pointed to the left. “That’s Gabe’s bedroom down there. Louette said it was Gardiner’s before the war, and it does have a bathroom, although there’s a tub and no shower.” She pointed to a double doorway halfway down the left wing. “Felicia, this room is yours and Varina’s. There are two double beds, but the best thing is there’s an attached bathroom.”
“I need that bathroom right now,” Varina said, a note of urgency in her voice. She took her walker from Gabe, who’d carried it upstairs, and scuttled in the direction of the bedroom.
“God,” Lizzie said, wiping her glistening face with the back of her hand. “Tell me there’s air-conditioning in my room.”
“It’s only a window unit, but Louette turned it on and she swears the room will cool down nicely,” Brooke said.
Dweezil yowled and batted against the side of the cat carrier, echoing Lizzie’s annoyance.
* * *
Brooke sat gingerly on one side of the narrow bed and patted the lumpy mattress, which was covered with a quilted satin throw. “Isn’t it funny to think of married couples sleeping on something this small?”
The master bed had a towering carved mahogany headboard that reached halfway to the ceiling and a footboard so high that being in the bed felt like being in a boat.
Marie sat down on the other side of the bed, the one nearest the window, and bounced up and down. “Your father and I slept on double beds for years when we first got married. We didn’t think anything of it at the time. Now I get claustrophobic sleeping alone in a queen.”
“Sorry about having to share a bed with me,” Brooke said.
“It’ll be fine,” Marie said lightly. “Taking family closeness to a whole new level. Although I do wish I had a toothbrush and nightie with me.”
“Louette put new toothbrushes in the bathroom for both of us,” Brooke said, “and she said we should just help ourselves to whatever we find in the closet for clothes.”
Marie flopped backward onto the bed. “Later,” she said wearily. “Right now, I feel like I’m the nonagenarian. There has been a lot of drama already today.” She turned onto her side and yawned. “Wake me up ten minutes before dinner so I can at least wash my face. Okay?”
* * *
Brooke curled up beside her mother and stared at the wall. The wallpaper was a scenic toile featuring flowers and trees and birds and animals that she guessed were native to Talisa, all done in shades of pea green. She managed to pick out a sea turtle, a running deer, some kind of long-necked seabird, pine trees, oaks, palms … and the next thing she knew, her mother was gently poking her in the side.
“Come on, Brooke,” Marie said, laughing. “It’s dinnertime. And did you know you snore?”
“Do not,” Brooke yawned, sitting up.
“Do too,” Marie said. “Let’s go. I’m starved.”
* * *
The others were already seated in the dining room, which had also undergone a transformation. A snowy white damask tablecloth covered the table, which was set with gold-rimmed porcelain dishes, heavy sterling flatware, and crystal stemware. A pair of tall silver candelabras adorned the center of the table with lit tapers.
Josephine sat at the head of the table, sipping from a glass of wine. She was dressed in the silk caftan again, and diamonds twinkled from her earrings, necklace, and a solitaire cocktail ring on her right hand. When Louette bustled into the room, delicious scents wafted from the direction of the kitchen.
“What are we having tonight?” Josephine asked.
“Paper-bag baked redfish,” Louette said. “C. D. was fishing off the dock when he oughta have been fixing that boat motor, but at least we got dinner out of it. There’s red rice to go with the fish, salad from the garden, and some lady peas out of the freezer. I didn’t have time to bake yeast rolls, but I managed to throw some biscuits together.”
Gabe moaned out loud. “Redfish. My favorite. And lady peas. My mother used to fix them with fatback.”
“Mmm-hmm, that’s how I do ’em too,” Louette said, setting the dishes on the sideboard. She held up a bottle of white wine that had been sitting in a silver cooler. “Can I pour anybody some more wine? The man at the wine store says this is real nice with fish.”
Josephine held up her nearly empty glass. “You can top me off.”
Louette shook her head vigorously. “Noooo. You know your pain pills have it written right on the bottle—Do not consume with alcohol.” She moved around the table, filling the other extended glasses.
“Louette, I said you can top me off.” Josephine’s voice held a warning note. “What does it matter if I drink with my medicine? I’m not operating heavy machinery. And I already have stage-four lung cancer, so what’s the worst that can happen?”
The housekeeper muttered something under her breath but did as she’d been ordered.
Dinner proceeded, with the guests around the table complimenting the fish, which was the best Brooke had ever tasted, and the wine, which was also a surprisingly good quality. Their hostess, Brooke noticed, barely picked at her plate, merely moving food from one side of her plate to the other and occasionally tossing morsels to Teeny and Tiny, who sat on the floor by her chair.