Chapter Nineteen #4
As they did so, Carson stepped closer to Atticus and handed him a glass of iced ginger beer. “You’re gonna love this. You won’t miss the alcohol, it’s so good.”
He met her gaze and they shared a look of mutual support.
“Thanks.” He took a sip and it was extraordinarily delicious.
Not too sweet. He looked at her again, noticed she looked better.
She had some color from her time out on the water.
But more, she’d lost the sullenness that had cloaked her features the last time they’d talked.
“How are you doing?” he asked. They both understood this was a follow-up question to the long discussion they’d had after her last argument with Blake.
“Good.” She couldn’t hide the sparkle in her eyes. She looked around and saw that everyone was clustered around the table, talking, laughing, tasting. “Actually, do you have a minute?” When he nodded, she led them out the kitchen door to the porch, where they could talk privately.
The air felt warmer outside than it did inside.
Atticus took a deep breath as he looked out over the majesty of the Cove.
Spring had really set in now. He’d never realized that one could notice the change of seasons along the coastline as one could in the North.
It was just more subtle, but when you knew where to look, the signs were obvious.
The cordgrass was a deep green at the bottom, and as it grew, all the wetlands would be like the great prairies, waving green in the sun.
The lowcountry was setting roots in his heart.
“That’s a new look for you, Rev,” Carson said, taking in his running shorts and sweaty T-shirt, his ball cap on backward. “I like it.”
“Yeah?” He chuckled. “We all met up on the beach. Had breakfast together. Have to say, they’re great guys. I really like them.”
Carson beamed. “Yeah, they are. They like you, too.”
“How can you tell?”
“I can always tell. If Taylor doesn’t like someone, he puts on his marine face to scare them away. Blake is more subtle. He just ignores you. Politely, of course. His mama raised him right. But you, they treat like one of the family.”
Atticus swallowed down the rush of emotion that comment elicited. “Yeah, we’re going to start some pickup games of volleyball or something. So, what’s up?” he asked, gently leading her back to the topic.
“I got a second interview with Charleston Waterkeepers. It’s this really great nonprofit that focuses on local water quality.
The pay is nothing, of course.” She laughed.
“But I don’t care about that. It’s a job I can really sink my teeth into.
I can make a difference, and that’s what I need. ” She grinned with pride.
“Are you going to take it?” he asked, knowing full well what that meant.
“If they offer, yes.”
“Good decision.”
“I know.” She gave a short laugh. She took a sip of her drink, then after a minute said more seriously, “Thanks, Rev.”
“For what?”
“For helping me say yes. To the job, to Blake, to my future.”
Atticus thought he’d never been paid a better compliment. He reached out to slip his arm around her shoulders, feeling more than a minister to her or even just a friend. He felt like her brother.
“There you are,” Harper called from the doorway leading out of the kitchen. “The guys settled on a drink. They’re calling it the Firefly Cannonball. Has a ring to it, doesn’t it?”
“I like it.” Atticus grinned. “But I’ll stick to the straight ginger beer.”
“Atticus, glad I caught you.” Harper looked over her shoulder and let the screen door silently close behind her. She hurried over to where Carson and Atticus stood. “Listen,” she said in a low voice. “I need to ask you a huge favor.”
“Yeah?” Atticus’s voice rose slightly in anticipation.
“I told you about how bad the last session at the bridal salon was, right?”
He nodded.
Harper met Carson’s gaze and she nodded in agreement, egging Harper on. “So we were thinking, Carson and I, on going to the salon again, only this time without the entourage.”
“Okay,” Atticus said slowly, not liking where this was going.
“We want you to come, too.”
“Whoa, ladies.” Atticus back-stepped with one palm up. “You’ve got the wrong guy for this. I don’t know the first thing about wedding gowns.”
“You have good taste,” Carson pressed. Then snickered. “Present outfit excluded.”
“You think we didn’t notice your fine wool suits? And your shoes,” Harper added wryly.
Atticus was feeling cornered. “But why me? Ask Dora.”
Carson glanced at the door, then lowered her voice. “Dora likes all the dresses, bless her heart. You don’t have to know anything. You’ll be like the tiebreaker in a sports game. Thumbs-up or thumbs-down.”
Atticus almost had to laugh at the idea of him in a bridal salon with his half sisters, who didn’t know they were his half sisters, giving dress advice. His buddies would never let him live this down if they found out. “Ladies, I don’t know.”
“We need you there more for moral support than your fashion opinion. Right, Carson?” Harper looked pleadingly at her sister.
“Right.” Carson put her hands together like in a prayer. “Pretty please?”
Atticus closed his eyes. They got him.