“Soon as I wake up.”

She looked at him askance. “Lord, what time is that?”

“Whenever I open my eyes.”

Dora chuckled. This was one dog that would not be tied to the post.

She opened the car door and closed it as softly as she could, not wanting to wake up the household. Mamaw had kept the light burning for her. She was likely asleep, and Harper was likely still tapping away at her keyboard, lost in whatever it was she was madly working on. Feeling safe from discovery, she waved and watched Devlin drive off into the night.

No sooner did she start walking toward the front door than Lucille’s porch lights went on.

“Shit,” Dora muttered under her breath.

The cottage’s front door opened and Lucille came out in her long white nightgown and blue floral-patterned robe. Dora didn’t know if she’d ever seen Lucille in her nightclothes before and she couldn’t quite grasp it in her mind.

“Sorry if I woke you up,” Dora said in a loud whisper, walking closer to the cottage porch.

“You didn’t. I couldn’t sleep.”

Dora reached the foot of the porch. “Are you okay?”

Lucille waved her hand in dismissal. “Oh, just an old woman’s aches and pains. I ain’t had a good night’s sleep since I turned sixty. Gettin’ old is not for sissies. I reckon I’ll just sit out on the porch awhile, let this fine night cast its spell.”

“Want some company?”

“Why, sure. Love it. Want something to drink?”

“Not a thing,” Dora answered, stepping up the stairs onto the porch. She took the rocking chair beside Lucille, dropping the canvas bag on the floor.

Lucille’s dark eyes studied her. “You look like you got some sun.”

“Lots of it. Hope I don’t peel.”

“Put aloe on your skin tonight and drink lots of water.”

“I will.”

They rocked awhile before Lucille said, “That sure was a long boat ride.”

Dora closed her eyes as images of Devlin flashed across her thoughts. That first kiss on the Boston Whaler had lit a fire in her that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. It felt both as though she and Devlin had picked up right where they left off when they were sixteen, and like they were exploring something fresh and new. They were older, more world-wise, certainly more experienced. Being with Devlin was like scratching an eighteen-year-old itch. She felt again the ripple of pleasure she’d experienced when he’d found the itch and scratched it, but good. Again and again.

Dora stopped rocking and looked at Lucille. “I discovered something today.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I’m sure as hell Eve’s daughter.”

A knowing smile spread across Lucille’s face. “Well, good for you! I’m glad to hear it.” She chuckled and commenced rocking. “That boy’s been waiting long enough. I reckon it was worth it?”

“Oh, yes,” Dora said with a slight laugh. “Definitely.”

“You gonna see him again?”

“Definitely,” she repeated. After rocking awhile Dora said, “He wants to see me again tomorrow. And the day after that. I think I should cool it a little, don’t you? I mean, I feel this nervousness, like I’m in high school all over again. That’s not normal, is it? Is it always like this when you have a crush on someone? At my age?”

“Don’t ask me. I ain’t never felt that.”

Dora looked at Lucille and it suddenly dawned on her how little she knew about Lucille’s personal life. Lucille was always the much loved woman who lived at Sea Breeze and took care of all of them. That was a child’s vision of the person, she realized with a burn of shame.

“Lucille, why didn’t you ever get married?”

“I didn’t want to.”

“You never fell in love?”

“Didn’t say that. Said I didn’t never want to get married.”

“Why not?”

“Why you want to know?”

Dora rocked awhile. “No reason. I just realized I don’t know much about you. About your family. And I’ve known you all my life.”

Lucille stopped rocking. “What you want to know?”

“Do you have a family?” Dora asked.

“No, not no more. My family used to live here on Sullivan’s Island. You know that.”

Dora nodded.

“A lot of black families used to live on Sullivan’s. But times got hard, and we left to move to the city when I was not much older than Nate. My mama found work, but my daddy . . . One night he went off and we never saw him again. Never found out what happened to him. My mama died a few years later. I was just thirteen.”

“Lucille, I’m sorry. That’s so sad. Did you go to live with relatives?”

“My two younger sisters went to live with my aunt upstate. It was hard on them taking on two more mouths to feed. They had their own chilluns to worry about. I was the eldest and they couldn’t take on the extra burden, so I went out on my own.”

“At thirteen?” Dora asked, aghast. “What about an orphanage?”

“There weren’t no orphanages back then, not for colored folk.” She shook her head and commenced rocking.

Dora studied the woman’s tight lips and didn’t press with more questions.

“I made my own way,” Lucille continued at length. “My mama, she took in ironing and taught me. When she passed, I had her iron, so I had some work. There were some nice women who looked out for me.” She turned away, frowning. “Some not so nice.”

Dora couldn’t begin to imagine what life must have been like for a young, orphaned black girl in the 1950s, making a living for herself. It would have been Dickensian.

“The Lord looked out for me, though. I went into service with your mamaw when I was eighteen and I been with this family ever since.” She turned her head. “You’re my family, hear?”

Dora nodded, comprehending the depth of the comment.

“So you think you’re in love with Devlin? That what you saying?” Lucille asked in an upbeat tone.

Dora understood Lucille wanted to change the subject. “It’s way too early to say that. I like him. A lot. But with all that’s going on, I don’t think I should encourage him.”