Chapter Five
T o say there was an abundance of testosterone at Allie’s lunch was an understatement. In her panic after Joey showed up, she lost control of her brain and her tongue and somehow managed to invite Sam to go with them. It was a nightmare—beginning with both men wanting her to ride in the car with them, Sam in his lifted Jeep, and Joey in his old black BMW. Allie denied both of them and drove herself, completely freaking out the entire way there. What was she going to talk to them both about? What if they hated each other? Good Lord, good Lord, good Lord. What had she gotten herself into? She checked her face in the rearview mirror to make sure her mascara wasn’t smeared, then added a quick touch of lip gloss before she arrived.
Judging from the tiny parking lot, the whole island must have smelled the brisket. The one weathered picnic table out front had people sitting thigh-to-thigh. Other folks sat on the backs of their tailgates or walked out of the station with white paper to-go bags. Allie thought she recognized Dottie’s voice yelling out names, and it was confirmed when she walked in and saw the signature blue beanie. Sam and Joey were already in line, and yes, they were talking to each other. What would be worse than those two as rivals? Those two as friends.
The tiny store bustled with chatter and loud orders of brisket with potato salad, macaroni salad, or fruit salad. Some people stopped just short of shoving each other, and others flashed fake smiles, but they all had an undercurrent of I’m just here for the meat. Behind the counter was a tall man with a white beard dressed all in red. The man was so deep into a different world that a sense of urgency did not exist for him. She couldn’t hear it, but he was probably calmly humming “Silent Night” as he scooped mounds of salad beside the slices of smoked meat.
“Bubba Atkins!” Dottie yelled. “Your order’s ready!”
A thick man with a mullet underneath his camo ball cap forced his way to the counter.
“Hold tight to that sauce cup,” Dottie said. “Don’t let it fall off the plate.” Then she checked her phone and frowned before scanning the crowd for someone. Her eyes landed on Allie. “Hey, neighbor,” she said. “You know where my Carolina Jessamine’s at?”
Allie quickly thought back through her morning, noting each time she’d seen Jessa walk past her office. “I saw her earlier, but I don’t know if she left the winery for lunch yet.”
“If you see her, tell her to call her mother.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Allie said. “I sure will.” She would absolutely track Jessa down as soon as she got back to work.
“Dewayne!” Dottie yelled toward the man Allie knew as Fred. “You heard from Tulip?”
Dewayne/Fred/Santa, whoever he was, stopped shoveling food onto plates and shook his head. “Not a peep.”
“The school said she left after the second bell, and she ain’t answerin’ her phone. I can’t get ahold of Carolina Jessamine neither.”
“Well, I don’t much like that,” he said. “Why would she skip out?”
Dottie turned to Allie. “How much time you got?”
Allie glanced at her watch. “Like, forty-five minutes.”
“Can you help my brother?” It was a desperate plea more than a question. “I’ve got to go.”
“Of course.” To be honest, it was a relief. Allie had just been given something to do that didn’t involve awkward conversation with both her coworker and her roommate. She moved to the front of the line and squeezed behind the counter. Dottie gave her an apron and a rushed tutorial on how to use the old cash register before disappearing out the door.
Each time Fred handed her a tin-foil-covered paper plate, Allie would shout the name from the ticket he’d laid on top. “Scotty!” She handed the plate over the counter and past someone’s head. “Davie! Mary Ellen!” In between yelling, she pecked at the old cash register that had probably been around since the 1980s. If someone wanted to use a credit card, Allie had to use Fred’s personal cell phone. She actually found that part easier, having been her mother’s assistant on several occasions when selling handmade candles at craft shows.
When it was Sam’s turn to place his order, he offered to take over for her. The line was still practically out the door, and unless Dottie made it back soon, Allie was going to be taking an extra-long lunch break. Joey nodded like she should take him up on his offer. “Duke is a stickler about hours,” he said. “Just put in your order with mine, and we’ll take it back to the office.”
It felt like a couple-y thing to say, but Joey was right. She needed to get back to work. “Thanks, Sam. Do you want me to drop Cuppie at home for you?”
Sam turned to Fred. “Okay for Cup to stay?”
“Put her out back. Whiskey’ll watch her.”
Sam opened the back door, and Allie got a glimpse of what she assumed was the place where Fred lived. It was a houseboat perched on top of cinder blocks and wood. There was a ladder to get up to it and lawn chairs set up around a firepit on the ground beside it. A huge brown dog ran up to them. His thick collar had a silver tag that said Whiskey .
Fred’s phone next to the cash register vibrated and rang. “Who is it?” he asked Allie with a knife in one hand and a thick slice of brisket in the other.
“It’s Dottie.”
“Answer it.”
Dottie’s voice was frantic. “I found Carolina Jessamine, but Tulip’s gone missing. Tell my brother that the jon boat’s gone too. She done gone out on the water. She knows better—danged little brat. I tell you what, I’m gonna tan her behind when I find her.”
Allie relayed the information to Fred. “The boat’s gone. Dottie thinks Tulip took it out on the water.”
Fred put down the scoop of macaroni salad and loudly yelled toward the crowd. “That’s it. We’re closing! Everybody out! If you already paid, I’ll finish up those orders, but the rest of you need to git. We’ve got a family emergency.”
He had another two huge smoked briskets and several tubs of side salads, but he was going to give it all up for his niece. Allie turned to Joey, who had his ear to his cell phone. He held up a finger, asking her to give him a second.
“Cuppie and I’ll find her,” Sam spoke up. “She’s trained in search-and-rescue.”
“Duke’s cool with us taking the afternoon off,” Joey said, hanging up. “We can stay and help Fred. Duke said he’s gonna join the search too.”
Fred, who was previously very much on a slow Southern schedule, had turned into a superfast serving machine. Joey made his way behind the counter and informed him that the customers didn’t need to leave—he was taking over. Fred corrected his previous announcement with emotion in his voice and quickly disappeared the way Dottie had gone several minutes earlier.
“Cash only!” Fred yelled to the crowd as he popped back in to retrieve his phone.
For the next hour, Allie and Joey worked side by side. It was fun, actually, and a great way to meet new people. The crowds died down just as the last few pieces of brisket were plated. Allie and Joey had never gotten any, so they made themselves a plate of side salads and picked at the remaining scraps of meat in the metal trays. They sat side by side on the counter to eat them. By then, her feet were pounding and her stomach was empty and complaining.
“This is not at all how I thought this day would go when I woke up this morning.” She laughed.
“I told you Goose Island is weird and wacky.”
“Do you think Tulip is okay?”
His face fell. “What is she, fourteen? Out on the ocean in a jon boat? I mean, she’s a native. It’s not her first time. She’s probably fine.” He looked at his phone, which had been set aside during the rush. “Jessa texted. She said thanks for helping out at the station. She and Duke are out on his boat searching.”
Allie checked her phone too. There was nothing. “I’ll text Sam.”
A few seconds later, she got a response. “We’re at an abandoned camp across the waterway. We found her boat.”
Allie and Joey went to work setting up a group text to keep everybody in communication. In an instant, there was text after text of people saying they were on their way to the old Camp Dogwood. “I think we should go too,” Allie said.
“Yeah.” Joey jumped off the counter. “Let’s lock up.” They were able to lock the front door but left the back door unlocked with Whiskey at guard.
In his car, as a team, it felt right. Right to be with a smart man who had a good job. Right to be working together to help someone else. Right to be on a tiny island on the South Carolina coast, far away from Nashville. She touched the tip of her shoe to each of the four corners of the black floor mat and triple-checked that her seat belt was buckled. Now, if Tulip was just found safe and alive, Allie might actually be making progress toward being happy. Cherophobia could darn well stuff its fear of happiness crap into a rocket and shoot it to the moon.