Bulls Island Read Online Free PDF Page B

Betts. Ridiculous.
    “Hi, J.D.,” Valerie said, and gave me an air kiss.
    While I’m no fashion expert, I thought Valerie was very overaccessorized for the occasion, especially in the diamond department. She had obviously overdressed for Sela’s sake, in the hope of sending a message to Betts about what Valerie assumed Betts likely didn’t have. Sela scrutinized Valerie with such narrow eyes that I was surprised she didn’t pull out a jeweler’s loupe.
    “Hi, Valerie,” Sela said. “It’s been a long time.”
    “Yes, it has,” Valerie said, in a singsong voice. “Nothing’s changed here! Can I get a double Grey Goose on the rocks with a twist?”
    “Sure.” Sela turned away to fix her drink.
    Now, in Valerie’s defense, I don’t think she really meant to speak to Sela like she was the help or to imply that the joint was a dump. It just came out that way.
    “Here you go,” Sela said, and placed the drink on the bar. “Hey, J.D.? Did you hear?”
    “What?”
    “Hurricane’s coming down the coast.”
    Ed and Sela looked at me to gauge my reaction.
    “Really?” I said. “Well, that piddling Anastasia was a sorry excuse for a storm. Is this a big one? We’re probably due for one.”
    “I watched the Weather Channel all day long and didn’t see a thing about a hurricane,” Valerie said, and pounded back her cocktail like it was a mere glass of water. “God in heaven, I am so parched! Can somebody please freshen up my drink?”
    Sela cocked her eyebrow in disapproval and took Valerie’s glass. “Yep, it’s a big one,” she said over her shoulder.
    Coming down the coast. The next one would be a B . Could it be? “Hurricane Betts” was what Sela meant. Good. I was ready.
    No. I was not ready.

CHAPTER THREE
Back to Betts
    S ela might have been right about how things were with my family back in Charleston, but she certainly had a short memory. How horrible it felt to relive a single minute of the past! Jacob Marley’s chains were a lovely charm bracelet in comparison to what I remembered. And as to her insistence about my undying love for J.D.? It was not even remotely acceptable.
    I was at home, back in my comfortable apartment. It was late at night. Adrian, my high school senior, was in his room fast asleep. The emotional part of me wanted to yank him from his bed and tell him the whole truth about everything. Just get it over with, I would tell myself in weak moments. The other part, the careful, pragmatic, and intelligent part of me, would never just blurt out the truth. But some nagging little voice inside of me knew that the time would come when I would have to tell him. When I did, his world would unravel and our relationship would be sorely tested. How would he ever trust me again? I was sure he would hate me. And life as I knewit, loved it, and for the most part controlled it, would be over. I did everything I could to avoid thinking about this.
    I had a stack of magazines and newspapers at my side and my intention had been to flip through them, tear out the articles and essays I thought I should read, and discard the rest. But it was impossible to concentrate on reading material when my mind was fixated on Charleston. I was reliving the night that had ruined so many lives and changed all of us forever.
    It was 1989 and J.D. and I were at his parents’ home for dinner, waiting for my mother and father to arrive. This was to be the dinner to attempt to mend the divide between our families. I thought we were going to discuss the future…you know, that someday J.D. and I would get married. Someday we would all be in-laws, so now would be a good time to make that first step toward friendship. J.D. and I had planned the get-together. With some hesitation, both sides had agreed.
    It would be a gross understatement to say there was no love lost between our families. The ill will our families held toward each other dated back to so many generations of turbulence that I didn’t think either