Mama’s tense lips spread into a smile. “Maybe not perfect, but he’ll be sober and too hungover to make much trouble.” Her mother looked at Talley and her. “You girls be careful around him.”

“What about Bonnie?” Ruth asked.

“She knows what her daddy’s about. She knows to stay clear.”

“And Mrs. Manchester?” Ruth pressed.

Drawing in a breath, Mama rolled her shoulders. “There’s no talking to her anymore. She thinks she needs him.”

“Why?” Ruth asked.

“I don’t know. Now go on back to the show. The trouble is over.”

“Are you coming back?” Ruth asked.

“No, I’ve lost my taste for entertainment.”

“Go on now,” Henry said. “The show on the beach is better.”

“Okay.”

The girls turned toward the sound of Carlotta’s voice riding the wind, but Ruth dragged her feet, hoping to hear something of what Mama and Henry were saying.

“He’s worse this year,” Henry said.

“Not worse. Just willing now to show his true self.”

“It’s like he knows,” Henry said.

Talley leaned toward Ruth. “Do you think the fighting is over?”

A few more steps, and they were out of hearing range and Mama’s and Henry’s voices. “For tonight.”

“I’ve seen the look in Mr. Manchester’s eyes. I’ve seen that look in Daddy’s eyes. It never ends well. It’s the reason Mama sent me here.”

Ruth had heard stories of men who weren’t good to their wives and children, but her father had never raised his voice, let alone his hand, to her mother. Gentle Giant was what she called him when they sometimes danced by the pool after the season ended.

“You won’t have to worry about that here,” Ruth said.

“Not until I have to go back home,” Talley said.

“Do you have to go home?” Ruth asked. “You can stay in my room.”

“The deal between Mama and Aunt Edna was for the summer.”

Ruth shrugged. “If you decide you want to stay, just say the word. Mama and Daddy never say no to me on the big things.”

Talley studied Ruth, her grim expression softening. “That’s real nice.”

“It’s nothing. Be nice to have someone close to my age around the house.”

CARLOTTA

Carlotta sat on her back porch staring out at the ocean, a whiskey in one hand, her other empty but aching for a cigarette she couldn’t have because she’d exceeded her daily limit of four. She sipped, enjoying the subtle burn and the way it relaxed her muscles as a favorite song about stars and dreams rumbled in her head.