The High Tide Club
“And she never recognized you? Didn’t recognize your name?” Gabe sounded skeptical. “Come on, C. D. This is an entertaining story, but none of it proves that you are her son or her heir.”
“How about this?” C. D. asked. He handed over a faded color snapshot of a brick cottage surrounded by towering oaks similar to the ones on Talisa. Brooke squinted to read a plaque.
“That’s the Samuel Bettendorf Cottage at Good Shepherd,” C. D. said. “I looked it up in the records. Josephine donated the money for it to be built in 1946—the year I got put over there once they closed the orphanage.”
“And what do you think that signifies?” Gabe asked.
“It means she felt guilty about walking away and giving me up,” C. D. said, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “Hell, I can’t explain why she did the stuff she did. I just know I am her son, and after all these years, it’s about damn time she did right by me.”
He looked from Brooke to Gabe, then back at Brooke again, and then donned his sunglasses. “Kinda upsets your apple cart, don’t it? You and your mom and those women upstairs? Looks like none of y’all are gonna be heiresses after all.”
Brooke shrugged. She didn’t know what to say or how to feel. Just the night before, the mistress of Shellhaven had shocked them all by telling them about a murder that had happened nearly eighty years ago, right here on this island. This morning, Josephine was dead, her estate left in limbo. Horror, grief, shock, disbelief. And now this. She was numb.
She stood up and held out a hand to C. D. “Good luck to you, C. D. I hope you’re able to prove your claim. And I truly mean that. If Josephine really did walk away and leave you in an orphanage all those years ago, you deserve to inherit. But in the meantime, I need to get back to the mainland. To my own son.”
41
They found Marie and Lizzie in the kitchen, having lunch. Louette looked up from the sandwich she was eating.
“Did C. D. tell y’all that crazy story of his? ’Bout how he’s Josephine’s son?”
“What’s that?” Marie asked, startled. “You mean C. D., the man who pilots the boat? He’s Josephine’s son?”
“That’s what he thinks.” Louette’s voice dripped scorn. She stood up and motioned for Brooke to take her chair. “Sit here. You want some lunch? I got chicken salad and crab salad.”
Gabe dragged a chair up to the table. “I’d love a crab salad sandwich.”
“I’m not really hungry,” Brooke said. “But if it’s all right, I’d like to call the ferry to book a ride back to the mainland.”
“Oh, I already took care of that,” Louette said. “You’re on the two o’clock, if that’s all right.”
Brooke gestured to Lizzie. “Will that give us enough time to get you to the airport for your flight back to California?”
Lizzie reached for a potato chip from the bowl in the center of the table. “I’m not going home. Not just yet. I canceled my flight.”
“But … I thought you were in such a rush to get back. For your deadline and everything,” Brooke said.
“I was, until last night, when Josephine started spinning that amazing story of hers, and then, after what happened this morning, it dawned on me, there’s a story right here. Like, a once-in-a-lifetime story. And I’m a part of it. So instead of packing this morning, I pounded out a query letter and emailed it to a couple of magazine editors I know in New York, and I heard back from one right away, and she loves the idea. So I’m staying.”
“Here?” Gabe asked. “At Shellhaven?”
“Why not? Louette doesn’t have a problem with that, do you, Louette?”
“Be nice to have company, especially with Josephine gone,” Louette said.
“Do you have a problem with me staying here?” Lizzie asked Gabe pointedly.
“No. I mean, as I said, I’ll petition the court to be named administrator of the estate, but in the meantime, I guess there’s no reason you couldn’t stay on.”
“Then it’s settled,” Lizzie said. “Now what’s all this about C. D.? He really claims he’s Josephine’s long-lost son?”
While Gabe polished off two crab salad sandwiches, a homemade pickle, and a couple of tea cakes, Brooke recited what the lawyers had just heard from C. D.
“This story just keeps getting better and better,” Lizzie said, rubbing her hands together gleefully. “Josephine, an unwed mother! Now it’s not just a magazine article or a book. We’re talking potential movie deal.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Gabe said, brushing cookie crumbs from the front of his golf shirt. “I hated to burst the guy’s bubble, but an old newspaper clipping of her holding a little orphaned tyke at Christmas probably isn’t going to hold water in court.”
“That man is crazy,” Louette said, shaking her head. “I never heard a story so crazy. Even if it were true, don’t you think Josephine would have recognized her own flesh and blood?”
“It does strain the imagination,” Marie said. “Abandoning a baby in a church? And then going to the orphanage every year at Christmas to visit him? How could anybody be that cruel? Even Josephine?”
* * *
Varina pushed her walker slowly into the kitchen, with Felicia following behind. “Is Josephine … gone? Did the funeral home man come?”
“Yes, but actually, the coroner is a woman. Her family owns the funeral home too. They took her body back over to the mainland, just until the funeral arrangements can be made,” Gabe said, scrambling to his feet to offer his chair to the old woman.
“But they’ll bring her back, won’t they?” Varina asked anxiously.
“Yes, I understand those were her wishes,” Gabe said.
“Auntie Vee, you need to eat some lunch before we get on the ferry so your blood sugar doesn’t get too low,” Felicia said.
“I got her a nice sandwich right here,” Louette said, sliding a plate of food in front of Varina.
“She’s all the time fussing over me,” Varina told Marie. “Does Brooke fuss at you like that?”
“Usually not,” Marie said. “More likely I’m fussing at her.”
“What time does that ferry leave?” Varina asked, nibbling on her sandwich.
“Not ’til two, so you’ve got plenty of time to eat,” Louette said.
“Then maybe Shug will take us by the old place at Oyster Bluff first.” Varina looked across the table at Brooke. “Have you been over to Oyster Bluff yet?”
“No, ma’am,” Brooke said. “I’ve heard a lot about it, though.”
“I’d love to see it,” Lizzie said. “Research for my magazine article. What is this Oyster Bluff place?”
“It’s my home. Where my people have always lived,” Varina said, her voice quivering slightly. “Where I’m going to stay, ’til the good Lord decides to take me.”
“Maybe someday,” Felicia said with a vague smile.
“Not someday. This day,” Varina said, her face serene. “I was reading my Bible just now, and the scripture spoke to me, clear as a bell. Isaiah. This island here is my home, where I am fixing to stay until such time as my Father takes me to his home.”