Authors: Barbara S. Stewart
Thom
1999
A year after I started as a research assistant, I completed the masters program. The professors of the English department made the recommendation for me to teach undergraduate courses. They appreciated my thoroughness and dedication; they pushed hard to make that happen. It was a huge leap for me. I’d be teaching at the university and I was only twenty-three.
“Lulu, you’ve worked so hard; I think you need to take a vacation,” Dad said over dinner one evening. “A real vacation.”
“Where would I go?” I laughed. I had girlfriends, but most of them were married or so wound up with a guy that it’d take them a week to get untangled.
“Someplace with a change in latitude to change your attitude,” he joked, quoting a Jimmy Buffett song.
I laughed out loud. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it.” He looked up, arching a doubtful eyebrow. “I will – I swear!”
I went out for drinks with guy friends, but I hadn’t dated anyone seriously since Jason and I split. That was almost four years ago. It didn’t bother me, I was happy. But for some reason, it worried my dad. After Dad said good night, I sat with my laptop and Googled the words ‘beach vacation, USA.’ Hawaii was the first thing that popped up.
Not in my budget.
California, New York, and Massachusetts all popped up. I just wanted a quick getaway. A beach where I could just relax in the sun, with a good book, was exactly what I was looking for; somewhere I could drive to so I had money left to explore.
Boom. Kiawah Island, South Carolina.
I looked at pictures, read everything I could find about the beach and surrounding area.
This is it!
I found a one-bedroom villa in my price range where I could bring my own groceries and just relax. It was a short walk to the beach, and if I wanted touristy, Charleston wasn’t too far away. I looked at the prices and with gas, groceries, and some play money; I could keep a long weekend under a thousand dollars. I hadn’t spent a dime of my college graduation money, so with only a tad bit of hesitation, I booked it.
Three nights – just me and a good book.
On Friday morning, the car was loaded, and I hit the road at six. By noon, the last bag was inside the room. The villa was on the second floor. I threw open the curtains to find a beautiful view. There was a screened porch, and I could see wooden steps that led to the beach below. I looked around; it wasn’t fancy, it was cozy. Perfect.
I unloaded the groceries, unpacked my things, and slipped on my bathing suit top with a pair of shorts. I grabbed my sunglasses and a pretty straw hat and headed down the wooden steps to the beach to explore.
It was late summer, so it was busy but not packed. I walked and walked. It was quiet, the time of day, I guessed. I loved the sound of the ocean waves rolling up on the beach. The sun warmed my skin, but the cool breeze off the water kept it from being too hot.
I walked for a while. It was peaceful. Finally, I turned to walk back the direction I’d come from. I watched a man walking my way, until we met.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hello. It’s beautiful here! What a gorgeous day.”
“The view from my vantage point is quite gorgeous as well.” I looked around. When I looked back, he smiled. “You.”
“Are you like some beach stalking gigolo, flirting with me?” I giggled after I said it.
What am I thinking?
“No. Are you?” He slipped off his sunglasses and I saw inviting, sexy blue eyes.
I know exactly what I’m thinking…he’s a nice looking man, older. He’s tall. I’m 5’8” so he’s probably 6’3”. He looks like Gerard Butler with brown, wavy hair. There are kisses of gray here and there. It lies in soft curls on the nape of his neck. He’s flirting with me and I’m flirting back.
“No, I came here to be alone for a few days.”
“Well, that makes me extremely unhappy. I was hoping you’d like some company.” I looked at him a moment. “I have fresh squeezed lemonade on my porch.”
He pointed to a house just a ways back. “I saw you walk by and decided I needed to come out and look for sea shells.”
His smile is like a model in a toothpaste ad. I notice these things.
I hesitated.
“You don’t have to come inside.” The smile widened, knowingly.
“I’d love some lemonade, but I don’t drink with strangers. It’s not safe.”
“Thom Miller,” he said, flashing that toothy smile once more.
“Lulu,” I said, and we started walking up the beach.
“It’s a pleasure. Lulu?” he inquired.
“Louisa. My friends call me Lulu.”
“Well then, welcome to Kiawah, Lulu.” He winked and slipped his sunglasses back in place as we headed back toward his place.
When we were inside his porch, I slipped the sunglasses and hat off and fluffed my hair a little. I sat at the table and he went inside to get ice.
As he returned, I noticed him looking at me.
“Sorry. I’m sure you’ve heard this before, and I will remind you that I am not a beach stalking gigolo flirt, but you are stunning.”
Just say thank you, Lulu – that’s all you need to say
.
“Thank you.”
“What brings you to Kiawah?” he asked, as he sat down across from me.
“A Camaro,” I said, and took a sip of the drink he handed me. I felt flirtatious, something so out of character for me that I blushed.
“Nice.” His laugh radiated through our space, causing me to giggle.
“I just needed some time alone,” I replied.
“Am I intruding on that time?”
“Pleasant distraction,” I answered. “I’m about to begin my first teaching job and needed some time to get my head wrapped around my future. I worked so hard to get through school…”
“Elementary, middle, or high school?”
“Undergraduate English at The University of Jacksonville. Florida,” I replied. I thought he would choke on a mouthful of lemonade, but he got it down.
“I’m sorry I assumed. English undergraduate. Wow.”
“Yeah, I’m a pretty big deal,” I snickered.
“May I ask…” he began.
“Twenty-four in October.”
Not twenty-three, I feel like I need to make myself older or he’ll not find me appealing.
“I have a bachelors and a master’s in English Literature. I went on to be a research assistant. I guess I did a bang up job because they fast-tracked me right to teaching.”
“And again I say, wow.”
“And you? What do you do?” The lemonade was just the right combination of sweet and tart, and the tart caused my cheeks to pucker. He noticed.
“I own a pub in town. I’ll have to be heading there soon. Why don’t you stop by for a drink later? There’s a Pub Crawl Trolley that will get you there safely and return you when you’re ready, if you don’t want to drive.” He scribbled the number on a piece of paper and handed it to me. “Sit at the bar and ask for me.”
Half an hour later, he walked me up the beach to the stairs of my retreat. “I hope I’ll see you sitting at the bar, later. Enjoy your time here,” he said. Turning back toward his place, he began to jog.
Oh my.
I fanned myself as I made my way up the stairs.
I slipped on a sundress and sandals. I heard him say ‘stunning’ in my mind, and stood in front of the mirror for a closer look. I was tall and with the exception of my boobs, everything was proportioned well. I was not skinny, I was just right. My chestnut hair laid on my shoulders and my make-up was perfect for an evening out. I accentuated my brown eyes with natural colors.
Not bad, Lulu.
At last, I dialed the number he’d given me, only to realize that I didn’t know the name of the bar. When the gal picked up on the other end, I started laughing.
“I’m not sure where I’m going. I have this number to call you for a ride but he forgot to tell me where to go. He owns the bar, I know that.”
“What’s his name?” she inquired.
“Thom…”
“Miller,” she said before I finished. “The Do Drop Inn.”
“Original,” I laughed.
“We’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” she replied.
I slipped a tube of lipstick from my bag. Looking in the mirror once more, I applied a light nude color to my lips and sat back waiting for my ride.
What am I doing?
It was an open trolley ride, and there was a nice breeze as the driver told me a little about Kiawah. When he pulled up in front of the bar, he handed me his card. “Just tell Thom to call me when you’re ready to return to your place.”
“Thank you,” I told him.
I walked to the door. I could tell by looking around that it was a quiet evening but that the place could get busy in peak times. It looked like a fun place as soon as you walked in the door. It reminded me of Cheers on TV. I walked to the bar and took a seat on a stool.
“What’ll it be, pretty lady?” the bartender asked.
“A Pinot Grigio and Thom Miller,” I replied.
The bartender winked and beat repeatedly on a shiny antique looking silver desk bell that rested on the bar, the kind used years ago to get someone’s attention. “She’s here!” he yelled.
Thom came through a swinging door, wiping his hands on an apron that was tied around his waist.
“I’m glad you came,” he said. “Danno, what’s she drinking?”
“Sissy white wine,” he laughed.
“Hey! I’m no sissy. I am a classy lady,” I proclaimed.
“Yes, you are. Bring her the sissy juice. I’ll have bourbon, neat. You look beautiful.”
“You have to stop. My head will get so big it won’t fit in the car when I have to leave.” I laughed lightly.
“Can’t help it. Facts is facts,” he joked, flashing those pearly whites. “Did you eat?”
“Fruit,” I replied.
“Ya can’t live on stuff that grows! Hey, you aren’t one’a them vegetarians, are ya?” he asked.
“No.”
“Thank God. Let me get you one of the pubs’ specialties.” With that he was back through the swinging door. I sat quietly for a moment.