Mark was right. I needed this.
As if in response a soft rain began to fall, baptizing Eve in the warmth of its gentle touch.
13
CHARLOTTE
August in the Deep South was many things: hot, muggy, green, magnolia-scented, mosquito-compromised, tick-filled, gator-friendly, and hot. Really, really hot.
Charlotte Davis hated everything about it except the magnolia-scented part. That she liked. Well, and she didn’t hate the heat too much, but only because heat meant sweat and sweat was salty and wet like the ocean. She loved the ocean most of all.
I-85 South was a conundrum. When it passed through cities it was a nondescript superhighway of boredom, but when it cut through mile after mile of what looked like uninhabited forestlands, Charlotte thought it was almost pretty.
She rolled down the window of her very used Ford Focus, put her hand out of the driver’s window, and let the hot, moist air surround her skin like one of those warm towels aestheticians used during facials.
“Oh my, what I wouldn’t give for a lovely facial right now,” Charlotte spoke on a sigh, the soft Southern drawl that colored her words always more pronounced when she was alone. In Charlotte’s life, she only truly relaxed when she was alone. When she was six she’d learned that sharing too much about herself with too many people was a mistake. A big, bad mistake.
Window still down, Charlotte breathed deeply of the humid air and just then passed a sign that blazed WELCOME TO SOUTH CAROLINA THE PALMETTO STATE. Her lips, glossed with the perfect tint of pink, lifted and, purposefully exaggerating her North Carolina drawl, Charlotte said, “Well, bless your heart, Palmetto State, but are you talkin’ ’bout the trees or the bugs?”
Her musical laughter filled the car as she rolled up the window and turned up the volume as Etta James hit the first notes of the bluesy “At Last.” Charlotte’s smooth alto was harmonizing with Etta when her “Under the Sea” ringtone interrupted, but she didn’t mind. It was her favorite person in the world. She punched ACCEPT.
“I did it, Grandma Myrtie! I’ve officially departed the state of North Carolina. For evah!” she said, sounding a lot like Scarlet O’Hara.
“Oh, Charlotte, my dear! Well done! Where are you now?” Her grandma’s voice would always evoke the sweetness of the homemade caramels she would be eternally famous for making—and famous for guarding her secret recipe from the world.
“I believe I am somewhere outside Spartanburg, South Carolina. Why do towns in South Carolina all sound so much like battle stations?”
“Because, my dear, too many Southern menfolk think life is a battle station. Which is the only reason you’re fleeing the South.”
“But is fleeing to Texas actually an escape?”
“You’re not simply fleeing to Galveston. You’re going to Texas A&M to set down your water-loving roots and become who you will be for the rest of your life,” Grandma Myrtie said firmly.
“I feel like I need to say thank you again, Grandma Myrtie.”
“Charlotte, there is no need, but as always I appreciate your politeness.”
“And I’ll always appreciate you blackmailing my parents so that they were forced to let me be me.”
“Charlotte! I did not blackmail them. I just explained to your mother if she didn’t give you what you need, I would refuse to give her what she needs.”
“Her trust fund check,” said Charlotte with an eye roll.
“Exactly. Most of the time it’s a royal pain in my rear end to be in control of the family money, but sometimes it’s spectacularly satisfying. Using that control to force your mother to do the right thing is one of those times. To be honest, I am often thankful your parents turned out to be such dolts. Were they the people they should be, you and I might not have become—how do you put it again—besties?”
Charlotte giggled softly. “Yes, Grandma Myrtie. We are definitely besties. But, thank you. You saved me, you know.”
“My dear, we saved one another. You are, after all, my favorite granddaughter.”
“I’m your only granddaughter.”
“Just so. When did you say fall semester officially begins?”
“August twenty-ninth.”
“Perfect! You’ll have plenty of time to settle in and find your way around. Just remember, there’s more to the city than the Gulf.”
“Don’t worry, Grandma Myrtie. I’ll get good grades and make you proud. No one will ever be able to say you wasted your money on me.”
“Charlotte Myrtle Davis, how could I ever waste money on you? You, my dear, are priceless.”
“Did Mama call you? Did she say anything after she saw me?” Charlotte hated that she still wanted her mother’s approval after all this time, especially because she knew she would never get it.
“Now, you know I’m too polite to repeat any nonsense your mama spouts, bless her mistaken heart. My dear, you just focus on yourself and that bright, beautiful future that stretches before you,” said Grandma Myrtie.
“You’re right. You’re always right. Thank you for reminding me.”
“That’s why I’m here—to remind you of how special you are.”
Charlotte’s blue eyes began to fill with tears, but she straightened her spine and lifted her chin. This was the first day of her new life. She was not going to let her mama spoil it.
“I love you, Grandma Myrtie.”
“I love you, too, my dearest one.”
A roadside sign announced that a truck stop was a mile ahead. Charlotte glanced at her almost-empty gas gauge and merged into the right lane.
“Hey, Grandma Myrtie, there’s a truck stop comin’ and I need to get gas. I’m going to go, okay?”
“You stay safe, Charlotte. You have your pepper spray gun, don’t you?”
“Yes, Grandma.”
“And your police whistle?”
“Yes, Grandma.”
“And you’ll lock your car.”
“Yes, Grandma. I promise. I’ll take care,” Charlotte said as she took the exit to the rest stop.