Sweet Caroline(43)
“It happens, Stu.”
People don’t know how to respond to tragedy. Especially tragedy like ours. A mother who just doesn’t want to live up to her responsibilities and commitments. A free spirit forever roaming. What kind of woman in her right mind chooses to abandon her children? But she did, then died of her own devices.
“Call Henry, Stu. He’d love to hear from you. Beaufort isn’t big enough to avoid him for long.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Stu taps the check against his palm and for a brief, oh-hallelujah moment, I think he’s going to tear it up or some-thing. He stands. “I’ll redo the bathrooms after the Water Festival.”
“I suppose you’ll want to charge me for it.”
He reaches for the door. “That’s how it usually works.”
Wednesday morning, Luke offers to work the Festival. “I’m getting tired of sitting around all lonely. I can run the dishwasher, Caroline, or mop floors. Run food.”
I pump his hand with a firm, CEO shake. “You’re hired.”
“I’m pretty handy in the kitchen,” Pastor Winnie offers. “Put me on the schedule too.”
We simultaneously look at Dupree—who growls. “Oh, all right. Put me down, Caroline. Bunch of bullies, y’all are, the lot of you.”
WEEKLY SPECIAL
Country Sensation Mitch O’Neal!
Appearing Nightly 8:00 & 10:00
19
Good evening.” Mitch rests his arm on his guitar, smiling, his eyes surfing the faces of the room. Friday evening and we have our first full house.
Dupree, new-hire Paris, and I squeeze between the crowded tables, taking orders. The house lights are down, and I can’t see—ouch—where I’m going.
A crowd has been on the porch and in the Café yard for most of the afternoon. The off-duty deputies I hired for security—an unexpected expense—were kept busy with crowd control.
Two fights.
One auto accident.
One near hit-and-run.
And a lot of flirty-flirts with the scantily clad women waiting to see Mitch.
“Um, helloooo, miss, I need a large Diet Coke over here.” A blonde stabs me with her claws as I hurry by.
“Large diet? Would you like an appetizer?”
Nothing. She’s so glued to Mitch, she doesn’t bother to answer. The Café is stuffed to the brim with gorgeous, sexy women vying for one man’s attention.
If only they knew. Mitch is off the market.
“This is the Frogmore Café, a Beaufort treasure owned by my good friend Caroline Sweeney.” He points to me. “The gorgeous brunette serving you tonight.”
The blonde leers at me as I set down her soda. I smile. “Enjoy.”
“I’m in the midst of writing new material,” Mitch says. “Y’all are my guinea pigs.”
Gorgeous blonde tosses her hair over her shoulder, beaming her sex-ray vision Mitch’s way.
No wonder he needs a break from “love.”
“I’ve been making changes in my life, coming back to my faith, reconnecting with friends and family.” He gazes around the room. “We’re living in a time where we can’t be dispassionate about what we believe or we’ll end up driving down the yellow line of life.”
Mitch is being transparent in front of standing-room-only strangers. “Anyway—” He starts a chompy beat on his guitar. “Here’s a song to get us started. One you’ll remember. It hit number one on the country and pop charts.”
The song energizes the room, and when he starts to sing, every voice rises with his.
The Frogmore Café Raft Race Team
Saturday, July 14
Come cheer for us
Saturday morning. Raft race. Nine o’clock. The Frogmore team gathers on the riverwalk with all the other rafters.
Andy, Russell, Mercy, Luke, Dupree, Pastor Winnie, Jack, his friend Donny, me, Mitch, and, last but not least, Miss Jeanne.
Walking among my very tired-looking team, I try to stir them up.
“Look around; we size up all right with the competition.” I smile broadly. Paul Mulroney’s team looks older and more tired than mine. “We might just win this thing. Wouldn’t that be something?”
They moan. Ho, boy. What a ragtag bunch. Maybe it was a bad idea to draw my raft team from the senior-citizen set and the crew I’m working half to death at the Café.
“Can’t believe I let you do this to me.” Miss Jeanne is the only one who looks half-awake. And she’s sipping coffee. “I could die today.”
I hook my arms around her shoulders. “What? You die? I know you’re going to cheat death many times.”
Sheree, the race coordinator, finds me. “Good news. Y’all are in the first race.”
I whirl around to my team, cheering. “Woo-hoo, gang. We’re up. Let’s go.”
They respond with a weak and sloppy, “Woo-hoo.”
“Come on, y’all, wake up.” I bounce around, patting each one on the back. “We’re outside in the sun and wind. Life is good.” I’m really believing we can win this thing. Why not? The underdog spoilers. “Sheree, who do we race?”
Wincing, she points beyond my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Caroline, it was the luck of the draw.”