Reaching for a plate, she busied herself, filling it with chicken, potatoes, and smothered cabbage. She heard the door chime, and when she glanced over her shoulder, she discovered the deputy had left. Picking up a knife, fork, and napkin, Cherie found an empty table away from the other diners and concentrated on eating.
The Seaside Café had earned the reputation of serving some of the best southern cuisine in the county. The Johnsons’ macaroni and cheese, creole fried chicken and buttermilk waffles, and potato salad were customer favorites. They were also Cherie’s favorites in addition to Derrick’s lasagna, meat loaf, and barbecued spareribs. Whenever they’d gotten together for their book club meetings, Kayana and Leah went all out when it came to preparing small plates. Cherie had assumed the role of mixologist whenever she concocted alcoholic and mocktails.
The first summer she’d come to North Carolina for a vacation, their book club had met every Sunday afternoon, but this past year they’d changed it to once a month. It had taken the pressure off Leah, who, because of family emergencies, had divided her time between Richmond, Virginia, and Coates Island. In the end, they’d met only once for a book discussion, with a promise to resume the following year.
Cherie wasn’t certain what the new year would bring for the book club now that Kayana was married and Leah was living with Kayana’s brother. Leah hinted that she and Derrick had talked about marriage, but the widowed couple were in no rush to tie the knot. Derrick had been widowed for a few years, while Leah had recently lost her philandering husband. The former teacher had also admitted that she had symbolically divorced her husband years ago and that he’d done her a favor, passing away when he did, to spare her the angst of going through a long and no doubt contentious divorce.
As the single one among the trio, Cherie was more than willing to agree to whatever schedule Leah and Kayana proposed. If they wanted to wait until the summer to start up again, that would give her time to decorate her home and research colleges for online degree courses.
She finished eating and then picked up the takeout containers Leah had left on the table, along with a shopping bag bearing the restaurant’s logo. Cherie filled one container with macaroni salad and coleslaw and the other with yellow rice and braised beef ribs.
“Is that all you’re taking?”
Cherie turned to find Leah standing only a feet away. “Yes. I plan to drive to the mainland to shop for groceries after I leave here to stock my fridge. Once I’m settled in, I’ll go back and buy enough to fill the pantry.”
“Aren’t you going to wait for Kayana?”
“No. I still need to shop before it gets too late.” She didn’t tell Leah that she wanted to be indoors before sunset. Not only didn’t she like driving at night, but she also felt more secure being home after dark. It was something that had come from her childhood. Her grandmother had cautioned her to be home before the streetlights came on because the neighborhood wasn’t safe at night. And as she grew older, Cherie knew her grandmother was somewhat paranoid because if something bad was going to happen, it didn’t matter what time of day it was, but it had been so engrained in her that she continued to adhere to the warning.
Cherie missed her grandmother as much as she did her brother. Gwendolyn Thompson had been her most vocal supporter and cheerleader. She’d been the one to encourage Cherie to ignore the snide remarks about her believing she was better than the other girls in their neighborhood—because she was. Her Grammie hadn’t lived long enough to see her graduate from high school. Most folks said she’d died from grief. For a week following Jamal’s funeral, Gwendolyn refused to come out of her apartment and barely touched the food Edwina left for her. Three months later, she died in her sleep. The coroner said it was natural causes, but Cherie knew her grandmother had willed herself to die because she’d doted on her oldest grandson.
Cherie knew it would take time, but living on Coates Island would allow her to view life differently.
Reaching into her crossbody bag, she took out a bill and handed it to Leah. “Let me know if this is enough to cover my food.”
Leah pushed the bill into the pocket of Cherie’s jacket. “Your money is no good here,” she said in a quiet voice.
“If you say so,” Cherie whispered.
“I do say so.” Leah smiled. “We’re closing the day after tomorrow for a couple of weeks. Will we see you again before then?”
“I doubt it, Leah. I have so much to do in the house before I can begin to settle in.”
“Take your time, sweetie. As they say, Rome wasn’t built in a day.”
Cherie smiled. “You’re right about that. Give Derrick my best, and I’ll see you guys when you get back.” She pressed her cheek to Leah’s, turned on her heel, and walked out of the restaurant.
She returned to her car and thought about stopping at the house to put the food in the fridge, then changed her mind. The temperature was in the low forties, cool enough that the containers with the food wouldn’t spoil before she reached home.
Driving more than a mile to a supermarket to purchase groceries was something Cherie would have to get used to. Living in a gated community with onsite shops had spoiled her. She either walked or drove the short distance to pick up whatever she wanted or needed, or went online to have the items delivered directly to her front door.
Humming a nameless tune, she reveled in the emotion of unadulterated freedom she likened to a baby bird leaving the nest for the first time, soaring with reckless abandon. Yes. She was free to interact with whomever she wanted, and free to begin her life anew without regard to others.
She drove along the bridge connecting the island to the mainland without encountering another vehicle either coming or going and decelerated to less than twenty miles per hour. There was a sign indicating she was entering the Village of Coates Island and another displaying the speed limit, which was monitored and enforced by the sheriff’s department. The Village, as the locals referred to it, was typical of the downtown business area in many small towns. There was the ubiquitous town square, with granite monuments with the names of the fallen men and women who had served in past and recent wars, and mom-and-pop stores catering to locals and vacationers alike.
Earlier that summer, Cherie had taken the jitney to the mainland to familiarize herself with the area once she’d contemplated—and it wasn’t for the first time—if she would relocate to the island. There was something about strolling along the narrow cobblestone alleys behind the small shops; a few bore signs indicating they’d been established when the colony had been under British rule.
During their first book club meeting, Kayana had given her and Leah an overview of her family’s history on the island, going back to the eighteenth century, when North Carolina had been an English colony. She had been entranced that the Johnsons’ roots ran deep in Coates Island. Kayana, Derrick, and their sister, Jocelyn, were direct descendants of a pirate and a free woman of color. Every time Cherie had thought about tracing her own ancestry, she had been reluctant because she didn’t know the identity of her biological father, and she did not want to open a Pandora’s box and release a plethora of shocks and the answers to the countless questions she needed to ask Edwina. She’d decided that, if she was going to begin her life anew, she would have to forget about her past.
Coates Island’s mainland had a documented population of more than thirty-eight hundred residents. It claimed its own school district, town council, police department, jail, and court. During her first trip to the island, she’d learned that she had to apply for a vacationer’s sticker, park in a designated area on either the island or mainland, and wasn’t permitted to drive on the local roads beginning with Memorial Day weekend through Labor Day. Nonresidents got around by walking or riding jitneys or bikes. Cherie’s short-term plan was to change the address on her driver’s license, apply for a resident sticker at the town hall, and purchase a bicycle for exercise.
She parked her car in the lot behind the supermarket. It wasn’t as large as a twenty-four-hour superstore, but it had everything she needed to stock her fridge and pantry. Cherie leisurely pushed the shopping cart up and down aisles, filling it with cleaning supplies, canned goods, dairy, baking items, and fresh produce. She stopped at the meat section and selected packaged chicken, breakfast meats, and a variety of beef and pork products, and then lingered long enough in the housewares aisle to pick up a saucepan, a frying pan, and several serving pieces. Although she was expecting the boxes from the condo to be delivered the following day, Cherie knew it would take time for her to unpack and put everything away. Her priorities were the kitchen and bathroom, and setting up one of the guest bedrooms, where she would sleep until the furniture she’d ordered for the master bedroom arrived.
She paid for her purchases, loaded the cargo area of the SUV, and headed back to the island. At her new house, Cherie tapped the remote device attached to the vehicle’s visor, and the automatic garage door opened smoothly. The former owners had given her two remotes and the programmed code to the garage door. Not having to get out of her car to open and close the garage door was a much-needed convenience.
There were a few other details Cherie had to put into action before settling comfortably into her new home. The house was wired for Wi-Fi, and she needed to sign up with a company for online, telephone, and internet access. She backed into the garage, shut off the engine, and tapped the keypad on the wall to close the door. It took several trips for her to unload the bags and carry them up the four stairs and into the kitchen.
By the time Cherie finally put away the groceries, the afternoon shadows had lengthened as dusk descended on the island. She reheated the food from the Seaside Café and sat on the folding chair at the card table to eat. She knew it would take time to turn the house into a home, but then again, all she had was time. Time to decorate, time to become acquainted with the mainland and island, and time to determine which college she would select to continue her education.
