“My papa would give you money too. Russell Strickland is not the only man in the world,” Josephine declared.
“He’s the only man in my world,” Millie replied. She held out her left hand and waggled the finger upon which perched a perfect five-carat diamond solitaire. “My family is broke, girls, and that’s no joke.” She giggled at her rhyme.
“My mother says your granny is richer than God,” Ruth scoffed.
“Ain’t nobody richer than God,” Varina said solemnly.
“We really are broke,” Millie insisted. “Grandmama has been living on the interest of the money Granddad left her, but now that’s gone, and she’s dipping into capital to keep the house going. You girls know Mama sold our house last year and moved in with Grandmama. I just can’t ask her to support me too.”
“You could get a job,” Josephine pointed out. “You’re a smart girl, Millie. You always made the best grades in school.”
“Doing what?” Millie scoffed. “I’ve never had a job in my life. I don’t know how to type. I don’t even have a college degree. Russell says there’s no need for me to finish school, since we’re getting married. And he’d never let me take a job, even if I could find one.”
“You’re not going to marry him,” Ruth said fiercely. “We won’t let you.”
“Ruth is right. I don’t care what we have to do, you are not going to marry Russell Strickland,” Josephine said.
Millie picked up the champagne bottle and took another drink before handing the bottle to Ruth. “Let’s not talk about it anymore. It’s too depressing.” She paused, then unfastened her bra and stepped out of her panties.
In the moonlight, the women could see the bruises on her thighs, hips, upper arms, and collarbone.
“Come on, girls. Eat, drink, and be merry, for next month I’ll be married. This could be the last meeting of the High Tide Club!” She whooped loudly, then raced for the shore. Josephine shrugged and gestured at Varina.
“Come on, Varina. We can’t let her swim all by herself.”
Varina giggled and stood unsteadily. “Ooh. My daddy will tan my hide if he finds out I went swimming naked.” She hesitated, then took off her shoes and unfastened the strap of her overalls.
“Come on in, girls,” Millie called, splashing in the waves. “And bring the champagne!”
*
Two hours later, dressed again, the four young women lolled on the blanket, gazing up at the stars.
Varina held up the empty champagne bottle and sighed heavily. “Too bad. I sure do like the taste of that stuff.”
Ruth propped herself up on an elbow and yawned. “Wonder what time it is?”
“I don’t know, but I’m hungry.” Varina sat up and began rummaging through the picnic hamper. She held up a sandwich and greedily wolfed it down.
“Do you think we should be getting back?” Millie asked. “It has to be after midnight.”
“I don’t feel like going back yet,” Josephine declared. “It’s our last night together before everybody leaves the island. Let’s make it special.”
“Yes!” Ruth agreed. “Why should we go back to the house? Let’s stay out all night.”
“Whoopee!” Varina chortled. “I ain’t ever had a spend-the-night before.”
Josephine glanced over at her young friend. “Girls, I believe Varina is officially tiddled.”
“Tiddled?” Varina frowned.
“Yep,” Ruth nodded. “Sloshed. Rip-roaring.”
“What’s that?” Varina asked, grabbing another sandwich.
“Sweetie,” Millie said, “I think you’re…”
Before she could finish the sentence, Varina grimaced. “Uh-oh.” She stood and dashed toward the nearest dune, before bending over and being violently sick.
“Drunk,” Josephine agreed.
Varina made it back to the blanket, where she collapsed, holding her head between both her hands. “I don’t feel so good. My head is spinning.”
Millie found a napkin in the basket and dabbed Varina’s face with it. “Sit up,” she said gently. “You’ll feel better.”
*
“It’s all my fault,” Millie said after Varina made two more trips to the sand dune. “I never should have given her that champagne. She’s too young to drink. I feel awful that she feels so awful.”
Suddenly, they saw a flash of lightning on the water, followed by the low rumble of thunder in the distance. A moment later, fat, warm raindrops splashed onto the blanket.
They all looked up at the sky, where black-tinged clouds drifted across the full moon.
Josephine swatted at a mosquito feasting on her arm. “Storm coming, girls. I think we’d better go. And these darned skeeters are eating me alive.” She pointed at Varina, who was sitting with her head buried in her hands. “But we can’t take her home like this. Her father would never forgive me. He’s a teetotaling Church of God preacher.” She stood up and brushed the sand from her clothes.
“Should we take her back to Shellhaven?” Millie asked.
Josephine had a gleam in her eye. “I’ve got a better idea.”
“I hope it’s better than combining bourbon and champagne,” Ruth said.
“We’ll go to the old lighthouse. To the lighthouse keeper’s cottage.”
“What about the lighthouse keeper?” Millie asked. “Won’t he object?”
“He’s long gone. The government decommissioned the lighthouse a couple of years ago, and now the cottage is abandoned. Locked up tight.”
“So how do we get in?”
Josephine grinned impishly. “I’m not supposed to know, but Gardiner keeps a key under the floor mat of the roadster. I think he used the cottage for his secret assignations.”
“Assignations?” Ruth said with a hoot. “If it’s such a secret, how do you happen to know about it?”
“That’s easy. Like the good little girl detective I am, I followed him one night and peeped in the window.”
“You didn’t!” Millie said, shocked. But a moment later, she asked. “Who was he with?”
“Some silly little blond floozie that he met at a dance at the Cloister,” Josephine said dismissively. “You should have heard her carrying on when Gardiner took off his shirt.”
“Jo!” Millie said, shocked to her core. “You didn’t actually watch!”
“Of course not,” Josephine said. “There’s no electricity, and Gardiner blew out the candle before things got really good.” She rolled her eyes for comic effect. “But I sure could hear those old bedsprings squeaking.”
“You’re awful,” Millie said, tossing the napkin at her best friend.
“Awfully resourceful, you mean.” Josephine began gathering up the picnic hamper. Raindrops began to pelt them, and the wind picked up. “Ruth, Millie, I’ll get the blanket, and you girls had better help Varina to the car.”
“We’re going for a car ride?” Varina asked, rousing herself. “Whoopee!”
*
“Hold the flashlight, Millie, so I can see.” Josephine handed the flashlight to her friend while she fumbled with the old-fashioned skeleton key.
“Hurry up,” Ruth whispered, trying to crowd closer to the door. “We’re getting soaked!”
“Ta-da!” Josephine turned the rusted knob, and the heavy wooden door swung slowly inward. She stepped inside, gestured for the others to follow, and they all heard something scurry across the wooden floor.
“Rats!” Millie squealed. “I’m not staying here.”
“Probably just a possum or a raccoon,” Josephine said, putting on a brave face.
Varina made a show of holding her nose. “It stinks in here.”
“Don’t be so prissy.” Josephine took the flashlight and swept it around the room.
The beam revealed a single large room. A makeshift kitchen with a sink, a propane stove, and an ancient icebox stood against the front wall. The room was sparsely furnished with a wooden table and two chairs, a davenport with cotton stuffing erupting from its cushions, and a large brass bed haphazardly covered with a faded cotton quilt. The wooden floor had a thick coating of cobwebs, leaves, and long-dead insects.