Swimming Lessons (10 page)

“I love this room,” Emmi said wistfully. “Always have.”

“Thank you, darling. You can have it,” Flo replied flippantly.

“I’ll take it,” Emmi replied, only half in jest. “I’m thinking of selling my beach house.”

All conversation stopped as heads swung toward her.

“Why are you all so shocked?”

“Emmi,” Flo began in a tone laced with scolding, “your folks have lived in that house near as long as mine have in this house. You can’t sell it.”

“Yes, I can,” Emmi said, staring Flo down.

“Why do you want to sell?” Cara asked more gently.

“First off, I’m just thinking about it. But to be completely honest, I don’t know that I want to live in it full time. It’s always been more a beach shack than a full time home.”

“You could redecorate. Add on.” suggested Cara.

“I could,” Emmi replied. “Or I could sell and move on. Look, I’m just thinking about it.”

“Think some more,” Flo said brusquely and turned her back on Emmi and the subject. Emmi tossed up her hands in frustration and walked back to the table to finish setting it. Flo carried over a plate of cookies and steaming coffee to the table. “
You
look terrible,” she said to Cara. “No offense.”

“None taken. I’m okay, just exhausted. Busy day.”

Flo slipped her hands into oven mitts, opened the oven door and pulled out a white casserole. Lifting the lid, Cara spied a dark, bubbling stew and her stomach started growling when she caught a whiff of garlic, spices and wine.

“Oh, Lord,” she moaned. “That smells like a miracle! What is it?”

“Boeuf Bourguignon, and I hope you’re hungry because I made enough to feed the multitudes. And there’s a fresh-baked loaf of French bread and salad fixings in the fridge.” She put the lid back on the casserole and closed the oven. “I hope it doesn’t dry out before Miss Toy makes her appearance.”

“When is she coming?”

“Soon. She got held up at work. Again. That’s why I’ve got this little helper tonight.”

And why dinner is a little late, Cara thought. The three women had worked out a system of childcare for Little Lovie that provided a loving, secure base for the child and support for Toy as a single mother during the years that Toy had gone to college. They’d agreed that Flo would cover Little Lovie in the morning and Cara in the afternoons. The system had worked well in the past five years, but lately with Toy’s long hours and Cara working late with the Eco-Tour expansions, more of the child care time had shifted to Flo. Cara knew the time had come to revisit their schedule.

But not tonight, she thought wearily. She reached out to pick up a cookie. When she bit into the soft, warm loveliness of it, her toes practically curled.

“I don’t dare eat any cookies,” Emmi said, bringing her nose close to the cookies cooling on the counter and sniffing lustily.

“Aw, go ahead,” Flo said, her brows gathering with disapproval. “You’re starting to look a little scrawny.”

“Scrawny? Really?” Emmi asked, delighted at the description. “You know what they say. Nothing tastes better than thin.” She pushed herself away from the cookies and sat at the table beside Cara. “So, what’s the latest gossip?”

“I got nothing,” Cara said, averting her gaze. She was dying to tell the girls about the doctor’s appointment, but she and Brett had agreed not to tell anyone yet.

“Well, I’ve got something,” Flo said, coming to the table with her eyes sparkling. “Guess who’s had a gentleman caller every night for the past week?”

“Who?” Emmi asked, eyes wide.

Flo looked over her shoulder at Little Lovie. The child was completely focused on rolling her cookie dough. She leaned forward and said in a whisper, “My neighbor.”

“Really? She hasn’t said a word,” Cara said in a low voice. She huddled closer. “Are you sure it wasn’t a repairman or something?”

“Honey, that was no repairman I’ve ever seen. This guy was tall, dark and handsome.”

“Damn,” Emmi said.

Cara leaned back in her chair, a small knowing smile curling her lips. “I hate to disappoint you, but that sounds suspiciously like a description of the man she works with at the Aquarium. Toy told me she was going to be working on a grant with him. I’ll bet that’s him.”

Flo’s face fell in obvious disappointment. “Oh.”

“I met him when we brought Big Girl to the Aquarium,” Cara continued. “He’s the head of the Great Ocean Tank. Edward, Ethan, Nathan…something like that. You should’ve seen this guy in his black diving suit with those dark eyes,” Cara added.

“In his
diving suit?
” asked Emmi.

“I swear to God! All lean muscles and dripping wet! He’d just come out from the big tank. It made for quite a sight.”

“It’s the best dive gig in town,” Emmi added with a wicked smile. “Maybe I should volunteer.”

Cara chortled and picked a bit of cookie and popped it into her mouth. “He
is
good looking,” she added.

Flo leaned forward. “How old is he?”

“Thirty, maybe more.”

“Is he married?”

“Uh-oh, your matchmaking antennae are popping back up.”

“I just asked.”

“I know what you asked. Save your breath. Toy isn’t interested.”

“How do you know?”

“Because Toy is never interested in anyone. The woman hasn’t had a date in five years.”

Flo frowned. “It’s not for lack of my trying.”

“Nor mine,” Cara replied, sharing a look of commiseration. “No, our Toy may have a lot of male interest but as far as I can tell, she’s a nun. She’s taken vows of celibacy.”

“Maybe not a vow of celibacy, but she’s made a vow to your mother that she’s hell bent to keep,” said Flo.

“You mean about changing her life.”

Flo glanced meaningfully over at Little Lovie. “Maybe we should talk about this at another time. Little pitchers have ears.”

“Are you talking about Ethan?” the child asked innocently.

Cara’s eyes widened and she popped the rest of the cookie in her mouth.

“Who’s Ethan?” Flo asked.

“Mama’s friend. He comes over a lot.”

“Is he nice?” Emmi wanted to know.

“Mmm-hmm,” Lovie replied, licking her fingers. “He reads me stories. I like him.”

Cara leaned close to whisper in Emmi’s ear, “It’s not nice to pump a child for information.”

Emmi only smiled sweetly at Lovie. “Does your mama like him?”

Cara elbowed Emmi. “Best cookie I ever had,” she said to the little girl, cutting off all further questions. Lovie beamed at the compliment.

She was reaching for a second cookie when the doorbell rang, and a moment later, Toy’s voice sang out in the front hall. “Hello? Where are y’all?”

“Follow your nose,” Flo called back.

“Mama!” Little Lovie cried out at the same time.

Toy entered the room looking as exhausted as Cara felt. Her skin was chalky, her gray-blue eyes were dull, her blond hair was falling from the elastic and her gray South Carolina Aquarium shirt and khaki pants were splattered with heaven only knew what. Yet the moment her gaze settled on her daughter, Toy’s eyes lit up like sparklers and life sprang to her expression.

“Look at you!” Toy exclaimed arms out to Little Lovie as she crossed the floor. She wrapped her arms around the child and kissed her, oblivious to cookie dough and flour. “Are you being a big girl and helping Flo?”

“I made all these cookies,” Little Lovie exclaimed, eager to impress her mother. “Want one?”

“In a minute,” she replied, turning her head. “Thanks, Flo. This was real nice of you.”

“Oh, stop. It’s nothing,” she replied with a scoff. “I
think she ate more dough than actually made it into cookies.”

“I think most of the dough is on her face and hands,” Toy observed. In a swoop, she picked up her daughter and brought her to the farmer’s sink that was big enough to bathe the child.

Cara watched with fascination as Toy hoisted the child under one arm while with her free hand she turned on the water. Then, using her palm as a cloth, she mopped her child’s face and hands with a mother’s speed and efficiency, all while Lovie remained motionless with her eyes and mouth clamped tight. Lickety-split and Little Lovie was washed and dry.

Cara wearily rested her chin in her palm, wondering when and where Toy had learned these maternal tricks of the trade. She came from the worst possible home life with a mother no better than an alley cat. But here she was, a model mother. Maybe it was something one was born with, Cara wondered. Something in the X chromosome. If it was, she hoped she had inherited that particular mothering gene as well.

“Mama, the big hand and the little hand are on the six,” Little Lovie said, pointing to the wall clock. “Can I watch my cartoons?”

“Is it six-thirty already? Maybe you should eat dinner first.”

“My tummy’s full.”

“She ate her weight in cookie dough,” Flo said. “Before that, I fed her peanut butter sandwiches. Let her watch her show. Put your feet up and I’ll get you a nice glass of wine while I serve dinner. We’re dying to hear about Big Girl.”

“Well, okay then,” Toy said to her daughter. “Do you know how to turn on the T.V.?”

“Yes ma’am!” she called, running from the room.

“Let me get my own wine,” Toy told Flo. “You’ve done enough for me today. And if you don’t mind, I’ll take some water first.” She washed her hands and wiped her face with the dish towel. When she lowered it, she leaned against the counter and tilted her head, contrite.

“I’m really sorry I’m late,” she told Flo. “You saved my life taking care of Lovie today. We had another turtle brought in at the last minute. Another one, can you believe it?”

“How many does that make?” asked Cara.

“She’s number five.”

Any talk of turtles brought Flo in close with focused attention. “Who brought her in?”

“Charlotte Hope from DNR brought her in from Fripp Island last night to Dr. Tom’s clinic. The turtle spent the night there, then Tom brought it to the Aquarium this morning. This poor turtle… The lower third of the right front flipper was missing and it was very ragged with broken bone. There were large lacerations on the plastron and carapace above and below the flipper. Definitely looked to be a shark bite victim. Not to gross you out, but would it help to see pictures I took?

“Sure,” said Flo with eagerness.

“Uh, how about after dinner,” Emmi said, and Cara readily agreed.

“After dinner, then,” Toy continued. “Anyway, the flipper had to be amputated up to the joint. This was the first time I had fully anesthetized a turtle. When they are under you almost don’t know if they are alive because you can’t get a pulse or hear the heart beat like you can in mammals. I actually breathed for the turtle while Tom
did the surgery! He’s a great teacher.” A grin of self-satisfaction spread across her face. “Very neat.”

“You’re learning so much, Toy,” Cara said with honest admiration. She was beginning to see Toy in a wholly new light. It was like Toy was spinning fast into a glittering new galaxy.

“Speaking of learning a lot,” Toy said, “the grant is going really well, too. We’re making great progress. Ethan has worked on lots of grants in the past and he’s very good at it. If we get this…” She crossed her fingers and sighed with anticipation of what she could do with all that money. “Just pray we do.”

Flo narrowed her eyes, pouncing on this. “Is Ethan the young man who has been coming to your house most nights?”

“That’s right,” Toy answered as she reached for her wine. “We’ll be working for a few more weeks so we can get the grant in by deadline.”

“All work and no play…” Emmi chimed in.

Toy just shook her head at that. From the other room, the sing-song music and bumps and horns of cartoons blared.

“Five turtles,” Flo said as she brought her own wine to join the girls at the table. “You’ll be busy, that’s for sure and certain. If you need any more help with that ragamuffin, just holler.”

Toy swirled her wine in thought. “Thanks, Flo. Until I get more volunteers in there, I’ll have to work later most nights. I don’t know how long it will be before I can get a team working smoothly but until then—” she shook her head “—I just don’t know. But I don’t want to take advantage of your good heart. And Cara,” she said, turning to her, “I realize this is your busy season, too.” She
exhaled a plume of air. “So, I’m going to look into hiring a babysitter.”

Flo looked insulted. “A what? Now listen, sugar,” she said to Toy. “I’ll be happy to pick up my little darling from school, or camp or wherever—whenever. I’ve got time to spare. Don’t you trust me to take care of her?”

Toy sat back hard against the chair. “Of course I do! I just thought, well, I hate to ask because you always seem so busy. You have your own life, too.”

“Busy?” Flo looked astonished. “Honey, I’m retired!”

“But you’re always running off doing something or other. You’re involved in everything.”

“I fill my days,” Flo replied succinctly. “But that’s different.” Her brows gathered and she looked at her hands on the table. They were strong hands, tanned and with short, clean nails. They were hands that were no stranger to work. “I keep busy. But at my age, it’s nice to still be needed. To have purpose. What with Miranda gone now, you and Cara and Emmi—and especially that precious child—you’re my only family.” She lifted her gaze and her blue eyes shone bright against her dark tan. “Don’t you know that?”

Cara’s breath held at this rare display of personal feeling from Flo. Across from her, the emotion of the day welled up in Toy’s eyes. Even Emmi was silenced.

Flo brushed away crumbs from the table in staccato motions, as though trying to brush away the uncomfortable confession. “This house feels so empty. So quiet. I can’t stand to hear myself patter around in it. The darn place echoes like a tomb. It’s funny, but when Miranda was alive she used to watch her stories on the television all day. I thought back then that the constant noise would drive me batty. But now, why, I leave the television on
most evenings just to hear another voice in the house. Isn’t that silly? Truth is, I get darn lonely here all by myself.”

She sighed and her gaze slowly swept the room. “To be perfectly honest, I love this house, but it’s getting to be a little much for me.”