Swimming Lessons (16 page)

He chuckled. It sounded low and rich against his chest. “For you, maybe a full week.” He gently rubbed his palm across her belly.

She felt the lump in her throat about to choke her.
“Well, come on, Jimmy. Help this old Sook up. Let’s go inside before we become bait for the mosquitoes.”

The Aquarium was a dark monolith against the harbor as Toy and Ethan approached the dock. Toy looked dreamily up at the sky and could have sworn the quarter moon smiled down on her like a Cheshire cat. It had been the most perfect, magical evening. Ethan had spread out a glorious picnic on the beach and they sipped chilled white wine with strawberries as the sun set in its fiery path to the sea. She’d never suspected he had such a deeply romantic side. When the blue sky deepened to lavender, he’d carried her in his arms back to the boat and they took off for Red’s Bar, docking at Shem Creek. There they’d talked under the stars for hours.

It was after midnight when they slipped in the rear door of the Aquarium. He held her hand and led her through the dimly lit, hushed halls. Other than the security guards who waved at Ethan as he passed, the entire building was deserted, save for the animals.

“It’s so mysterious at night,” she said.

“But you’ve been to parties here at night.”

“Yes, but those are grand affairs with plenty of people. I’ve never been here when it’s so empty. It feels like another world.”

“It’s my favorite time to come. Some of the animals are nocturnal. Wait here. I’ll drop the keys off and be back in a minute. I’d like to show you something.”

The great entry hall gleamed like burnished silver in the moonlight that poured in from the enormous plate glass windows. Toy’s heels clicked as she walked the hall, waiting. Curious, she pushed open the door to the Mountain Forest section. The heavy door clicked on
closing and the metallic sound reverberated in the deep, shadowed quiet.

Stepping into the darkness, the air changed from the cool of the air-conditioning to the sultry, moist air of a summer night. This area was open to the outdoors and a light, moist breeze caressed her cheeks. As she walked the winding path she was enveloped in the earthy, green scents of woodlands and felt mesmerized by the pale light that cascaded through the foliage, creating a mosaic of shadows on the floor. She heard the eerie, rhythmic hoots of an owl and from deep in the green, crickets and frogs sang their night songs.

When she approached the pond, she saw that the river otters had been alerted by the noise of her arrival. The pair stood on tiptoes with their large soulful eyes open and alert, curious as to why a human was walking by the pond so late at night. One bold one scampered close to investigate, pressing its nose close to the glass that separated them. His luminous dark eyes were like pools in the moonlight. Toy bent lower to his level, equally curious, but in a flash he pushed off the glass, somersaulting into the water. She laughed as the second otter dove in after him.

“Toy?” Ethan called softly from the main hall.

“Coming!” She left the mysteries of the forest behind her as she hurried to the shadowed figure in the hall.

“It’s wonderful in there,” she said when she came to his side. “I felt like I was walking alone in a forest.”

“Come with me. Wait till you see this.”

He took her hand and led her to the gallery of the Great Ocean Tank.

“Oh, Ethan,” she sighed as she entered the dimly lit arena.

If the forest was exotic at night, the Great Ocean Tank was other-worldly. Moon glow shimmered from high above, created by one of the fifteen incandescent lights at the top of the tank. The glow cast eerie wave shadows on the surrounding walls. Standing at the ocean’s bottom, she saw the water’s color deepen in degrees. She felt as though she stood within an ocean at deep night. The coral glowed and she watched in awe the mysteries unfolding before her. Ethan wrapped an arm around her waist and they stood, linked, watching as fish schooled slowly by.

After a few minutes, Toy sensed awkwardness between them, a holding back after an evening where they’d talked about whatever came to mind.

She’d opened up and told him about her harsh upbringing, how she’d left home while still in high school to live with Lovie’s father, and how Darryl had abandoned her after she’d given birth to their child.

Tonight had been an evening of revelation for her. Ethan had expressed himself in words and in experiences. He’d traveled the world, yet she’d learned that he felt more at home here, with the sharks and fish of the Great Ocean Tank, than he did anywhere else. This was the culmination of his life’s work. This mysterious, exotic, erotic world was part of him.

Toy understood it all. She had no need or desire for more talk. Yet she didn’t know how to move from this painfully stiff moment to where she knew—hoped—they were heading. Was it up to him to make the decision? His arm grew tense around her waist.

Deciding, Toy leaned into his arms. One smooth movement, yet one filled with significance. She felt her body slide and mold against his. Each point of contact along her skin thrummed and she thrilled at feeling like a
woman again, one of real flesh and blood, after so many years of isolation. Then she turned, wanting to see his face.

His gaze locked with hers and his eyes spoke eloquently of his desire for her, of his hesitancy, of his understanding that she was not one to be rushed.

She raised her hand and delicately skimmed her fingers through his hair, beginning at the temple and trailing down to curl around his ear. A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he, in turn, lifted his own hand and repeated the familiar motion. This time, however, he let his hand linger to cup her chin.

Yes,
her eyes pulsed to him.
Yes
…

As though he’d heard her, he lifted her chin slightly and lowered his head slowly. She counted his approach in ragged breaths. His lips veered to the left, scorching a trail across her neck, to kiss her ear. Then again to the right, to kiss the other. Pausing before her mouth, their breaths mingling, he said her name in a deep, anguished whis r, “Toy.” Then he lowered his head and she felt his lips on hers.

Closing her eyes, Toy felt herself swirling, going deeper and deeper, letting go, until, with a soft gasp, she slipped beneath the depths.

Medical Log “Big Girl”

T
he American flags along Palm Boulevard were waving in the breeze as Cara and Brett drove to the beach house. Golf carts festooned with red, white and blue crepe paper paraded down the side streets by Breach Inlet, dogs were walked in flag T-shirts and here and there she spied a henna flag tattoo on the taut, tanned midriffs and arms of the beautiful youth. The festive mood of the island permeated everyone on this favorite holiday. Traffic crawled over the connector from the mainland with visitors hoping to watch the fireworks from the beach and the congestion on the streets brought driving to a snail’s pace.

The Fourth of July Celebration at the Rutledge beach house began five years earlier during that final summer of her mother’s life. Miss Lovie had told Cara that the gathering was to celebrate just being alive and sharing time with those they loved most in the world. Her mother had smiled and said,
If that wasn’t cause enough for fireworks, then she didn’t know what was!

Indeed, Cara thought as Brett pulled up to the pale yellow beach house her mother called Primrose Cottage. It was in continuation of that very sentiment that
everyone came to the barbecue tonight. She saw Emmi’s blue sports car and Palmer’s Volvo wagon already parked, and of course, Toy’s Gold Bug. Brett hurried around the car to help her out of the car.

“Don’t you think you’re going overboard on this ‘mantling’ thing?” she asked as she gave him her hand.

“I told you that I was giving you the full week,” he quipped, guiding her out of the car.

“A whole week? Lucky me.”

“You just sit in a chair and put your feet up. I don’t want you doing any dishes or serving any food this year. You already spent too much time standing up making salads and baking.”

“Brett, I like to cook and we planned this barbecue for weeks. I’m supposed to take it easy, not be holed up like an invalid.”

“You’ve been cooking up a storm. There’s always enough food to feed an army in there, anyway.”

“It wouldn’t be a family barbecue if there wasn’t a mountain of food. That’s half the fun.”

“Well you can eat all you want but just sit down while you’re doing it. Please. For me.”

She heard the seriousness in his plea and readily capitulated. “Oh, all right. But I’m already late showing up and if I don’t help clean up they’ll think I’m a slacker.”

“I’ll help clean up for you.”

“See? You say something like that and it is impossible to deny you anything.” She leaned over the pie she was carrying to kiss his cheek. Then sighed and said, “They’ll still think I’m a slacker.”

“Not if you tell them you hurt your back.”

“And you think they’ll believe you? Flo’s antennae will be wagging. She’ll ferret out the truth, you just wait.”

“Leave Flo to me. I’ll get her talking about turtles and she won’t be thinking about you.”

Cara laughed, knowing it was true. A nest was due to hatch tonight and Flo was on tenterhooks that those babies would boil out during the fireworks and get trampled in the dark by the multitudes.

Brett went to the back of the car to collect the steamed crabs while Cara carried her blueberry pie to the front door. She waited at the porch and took a moment to survey the little plot of property that her mother had left her.

The beach house had been spruced up in the past several weeks. Brett had eked out time to make repairs on both this house and Flo’s next door. All the trim of both houses was given a fresh coat of white paint. Meanwhile Cara, Emmi and Toy had a “weed fest.” That consisted of a weekend of backbreaking work putting Flo’s disheveled garden back in order. She chuckled at the memory of the three of them pulling weeds, digging holes, spreading mulch and planting colorful annuals in pots. Emmi had groaned over breaking her nails, but Flo had wept tears of pure joy. Despite her claims that the garden didn’t mean much to her, she had since been seen strolling through her mother’s garden, tugging a weed, plucking a deadhead, or just sitting on the front porch gazing out at the blossoms.

Cara sighed, recalling how her own mother had loved the wildflowers that covered the dunes of her property. Their riotous color had diminished in the high heat of summer. Now, Miranda’s roses took center stage and were showy against the soft green dune grasses of her mother’s property. Both women were gone now, she thought with a twinge of sadness. How she’d have loved to share her secret with them both.

Brett came up behind her, his arms straining with the weight of the steaming crabs. “Open the door!” he called out. “Hot stuff coming through!”

When they stepped into the house everyone turned and called out their names in welcome, then fussed over the steaming crabs.

“Just set those babies right here,” Palmer called out.

“Wait!” Toy cried as she ran to clear a space on the already burgeoning tables of food on the screened porch. Little Lovie followed, telling everyone that these were the crabs she helped to catch with Uncle Brett.

“Have room for one more pie?” Cara asked. She saw Emmi’s cherry pie and Flo’s banana cream pie on the table.

“Your pie completes our red, white and blue theme,” Toy replied as she took the pie from Cara. “Our barbecue is now complete.”

Cara looked around the beach house. The cottage gleamed with that party shine. The sun was still high but Toy had turned on the fairy lights around the porch ceiling. They were a dim glow beside the red, white and blue streamers and American flags.

“Everything looks beautiful. You’ve done Mama proud,” Cara told Toy, knowing no compliment could have been sweeter.

“I think we’ve got all the favorite family recipes,” Toy said, looking over the feast like a worried hen. “All except for your Aunt Rebecca’s black eyed peas. No one wanted to make it this year.”

“Honey, you couldn’t squeeze another dish onto that table without the legs giving out. You must have ten pounds of potato salad.” She walked along the table, her stomach beginning to grumble for the different bean salads, crispy corn bread, golden fried chicken, pulled
pork with Granddaddy Clayton’s barbecue sauce, Cooper’s favorite brownies and every kind of pickle known to Southern man.

“It’ll take the month to eat all this,” Cara said, then looking around the room asked, “who’s all here?”

“The usual suspects,” Toy replied. “Flo invited a few friends. Ethan’s coming after he makes an appearance at his own family’s party. Oh, listen to this. Palmer actually skipped the business rounds of parties this year. He spent the whole day with Cooper on the beach.”

“Really?” she replied, feeling a gush of pride for her brother. She’d been begging him for years to spend more time with his kids. “Good for him. I’m thinking that’s because Linnea went off to camp on Friday. It might be a good thing she went, after all. Palmer dotes on her, but Cooper needs a little father-son time. Where’s Emmi?”

“She’s here somewhere, sulking.” She leaned in. “Her date cancelled on her.”

“Oh. Too bad.”

“I don’t know. Not if it was the guy I saw her with the other night. Ethan and I stopped at Red’s Bar on our date and I saw her with this sketchy guy. A real snake oil salesman. I don’t know where she finds them.”

Cara sighed, suspecting she was finding them at the bottom of the barrel. “Was she drunk?”

Toy hesitated, then reluctantly nodded. “Plastered. I’m getting worried about her. I’ve never seen her like this. Is she okay?”

“She’s just having a hard time,” Cara replied, loyalty demanding that she make light of the problem. But in her heart, she was worried about Emmi, too. “I’d better go find her and say hello.”

“Maybe get her to eat something, too. She’s already had two gin and tonics.”

“Ooh, boy,” she replied on a sigh. Cara walked through the living room, saying hello to Flo and meeting her two male friends, then checked the porches, seeing Cooper playing a card game with Lovie, and leaning against the pillars Brett and Palmer were talking. She peeked in the kitchen to find Toy at the sink filling a bucket with ice.

“You seen where Emmi’s hiding?”

“Check the bedrooms.”

Cara went down the narrow hall to the two small bedrooms. Little Lovie’s room was empty. Across from it, the guest room door was half closed. Peeking in, she found Emmi sitting on the edge of the bed, a drink in one hand, the other paging through a glossy women’s magazine.

“There you are!” she said, pushing open the door and stepping in. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“I’ve been hiding out,” Emmi replied. She was wearing white shorts and a T-shirt with bright red poppies that looked like they were blooming over her full breasts. “Come join me.”

Cara stretched out on the creaky double bed that had belonged to Palmer when they were kids. Other than the laptop on the ancient school desk, the small, dark paneled room with the nautical print curtains and paintings of sailboats on the wall was much the same now as it always had been.

“How come you’re so late?” Emmi asked her.

Cara was relieved that Emmi wasn’t slurring her words. “Work. Holidays are always busy.”

Emmi nodded, accepting that.

“How come you’re hiding out back here?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just couldn’t face the merrymaking.”

Cara felt a stab of irritation. “Just because some bozo cancelled your date?”

Emmi looked up sharply. “Oh, you heard. I guess that bit of juicy gossip is making the rounds.”

“No, it’s not…”

“Spare me, I could care less. But no, not because of that.” She sighed and her bravado fled as she closed the magazine and set it aside. “It’s because of two other bozos. My sons, James and John. They were supposed to come down this weekend, but canceled, as usual.”

“Maybe they were busy. You know how boys are at that age. They’re driven by their hormones. They’ve got girlfriends and parties to go to.”

“I know all that. But they didn’t even call to tell me they weren’t coming. They don’t call at all. Not once since I got here.”

“You’re kidding?”

“They’re busy,” she replied quickly.

Cara felt outrage for her friend. Emmi always catered to her boys, and this was how they repaid her? How could they treat her so abominably? She’d always found them self-centered and spoiled and this latest proved her right. After the divorce, Emmi needed the support and love of her boys more than ever and it pained Cara to hear her make excuses for them. Yet, knowing all this, she wisely kept her opinions to herself.

“Well, here’s to independence!” Emmi raised her glass then brought it to her lips. The ice clinked against the glass, spilling liquid down her chest.

“Oh, damn,” she cursed, jerking back the drink and
dabbing at the front of her shirt. “Now I’ll smell like a still all night. And I have to refresh my drink.” She rose, tottering slightly.

Cara clamped her lips tight from the words she wanted to say, knowing none of them would get through to Emmi now, in this mood. Never get between a man and his drink, her father used to say, and apparently it was true for a woman as well. But she felt helpless as she watched her dearest friend stride out of the room, no doubt straight for the liquor table.

Palmer was first in line at the table for crabs.

Cara walked across the room to give him a quick hug. “Hey, brother mine! I heard you’ve been on the beach all day. The tan looks good on you.”

“You know me. One hour in the sun does it. Cooper has my genes. Look at him,” he said, proudly pointing to the lean, ten-year-old boy who was standing at the serving table wolfing down a barbecue pork sandwich. “Julia can’t keep that boy in clothes, he’s growing so fast. Reckon he’ll be taller than me in no time.” He sidled a glance at Cara. “Might be he’ll even be as tall as you someday.”

“Very funny. I was just thinking if he keeps eating like that he might get to be as fat as you someday.”

Now it was Palmer’s turn to laugh his rolling belly-laugh that always set Cara to laughing anew.

“Where’ve you been all day?” he asked. “I thought I’d see you on the beach. We had a beauty of a day.”

“Holidays are work days for us,” she answered.

“Brett says you hurt your back?”

“I just strained it, nothing serious. I’m following orders, trying to rest it some.”

“Well, poor invalid, come over here,” Palmer said, leading her to a quiet corner. “Sit yourself down while I get you a drink. I wanted to talk to you about something anyway. What’s your poison? Wine? Beer? Gin and tonic? I made a batch myself and they’re good.”

“Just water, thanks. I’m thirsty.”

“Coming right up.”

She lowered herself into the cushy armchair in the front room and put her feet up on the ottoman. From the corner of her eye she spotted Brett watching her, nodding his head in approval. She waved him away with a chuckle then turned to see her brother come across the room with a glass of ice water for her and a fresh drink for himself.

“Thanks, Palmer. So, what’s on your mind?”

He took the chair next to hers but instead of leaning back in the cushions like she did, he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “First, what the hell business do you have to be riding out on those wave runners the way you do? You’re getting too old for that. See what happened to your back? Why doesn’t Brett hire some young buck to do that kind of work?”

“I’m touched by your concern, but I wasn’t even out on a wave runner. Besides, Brett did hire a college boy to guide and retrieve folks. He also hired a pretty blond girl to take reservations. He’s cute and she’s a looker.” She sipped her water. “Business has never been better.”

“I’ll just bet,” Palmer said with a laugh.

“I happen to love churning up the water on a wave runner, by the way. Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Partly.” He took a sip of his gin and tonic and sidled closer. He swirled the ice in his glass a few times. “Remember our conversation about renting the beach house?”

“Yes,” she replied, but her tone was wary. “I remember clearly telling you that I wasn’t interested in renting it as long as Toy and Lovie needed or wanted to live here.”

“I know, I know. But here’s the thing. Just by coincidence I heard about someone who’s looking for a beach house to rent. She’s an artist and wants to live near the beach to paint.”