The Summer Wind (30 page)

“Hello!” she called again when he’d stopped.

Devlin jerked his head up and broke into a wide grin. He lifted his goggles from his head, shaking sawdust into the air, and stepped forward to offer a quick kiss.

“You’re here!”

“Just got here,” she said, brushing away sawdust from his hair. “What’s going on?” she asked, looking around the house with curiosity. The cottage had been gutted and was now in the process of a major renovation. A lot of work had already been done—new walls, cabinets, counters, appliances. Dora had dreamed of renovating her house in Summerville for so long that she always got a thrill at the sight of a renovation.

“This is a house I bought last year when the market dropped. Got it on a foreclosure. I’m renovating it in my spare time. When I’m done, I’ll put it back on the market.”

“
You’re
renovating it? I didn’t know you were a handyman.”

“A carpenter, thank you very much,” he said in the manner of someone who’d been doing it for a very long time. “That’s what got me in the real-estate business in the first place. I used to work construction—thought you knew that. I bought a fixer-upper back when I could afford anything on Sullivan’s, did all the work myself, then sold it for a big profit. I just kept on going, flipping houses, making profits. Found out I had a good eye for real estate.” He shrugged. “I was lucky and got in for the boom. The rest is history.”

She looked at Devlin, seeing him in a new light.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re about to have me for dinner.”

She laughed, coloring. “I guess because I find the fact that you can do your own renovations very sexy.”

He laughed, raised his brows, and set the piece of paneling down. “Well, hell, lady,” he said, reaching out and grabbing her around the waist, tugging her closer. “If I’d a known that, I’d a shown you my power tools right off.”

He kissed her then, long and slow and deliberate, and she felt the humming in her veins. When the kiss ended, she leaned back in his arms and smiled coyly. “I wish I’d known you had this talent a few months ago. I could have used your help.”

“Yeah? Why?”

She disentangled from his arms and began walking around the room, not wanting to bring Cal and the house in Summerville into the conversation. Devlin was installing cypress wood paneling into the back room, creating a lovely lowcountry feel. The back wall had been replaced with a long wall of windows overlooking the marsh. Dora crossed her arms and stood looking out over the wide swath of waving grass and the Intracoastal glistening in the sunlight.

“This view never gets old.”

Devlin followed her to the windows and stood beside her. “That’s because it’s always changing. Folks from off who come to buy always want the ocean views. I can find that, too. But it’s the wetlands that shows the change of scenery. The migrating birds, the changing grass—bright green in the summer, gold in the fall, brown in the winter, then the soft greening again in the spring.”

He turned his head and looked at her, his gaze serious. “Why could you have used my help a few months back?”

Dora sighed, resigned, and looked up at him. “I have to put my house in Summerville on the market. We bought it as a fixer-upper, only we never did the fixing-up. There was never the money. Now that we’re getting a divorce, we’re putting the house on the market. Suddenly everything that I’ve been waiting years to get done has to get done in a hurry.”

“So, you’re trying to flip the house.”

“Not even. We’re just trying to get it in decent enough shape to sell it. Cal wants to spend money we don’t have, and I want to sell it as is. He won, of course.”

“Why of course?”

“Because whenever it’s an issue of money, Cal makes the decision.”

“Even when the outcome affects your financial situation?”

Dora moved to the other side of the room, where a new fireplace mantel was being installed.

“Cal is not as concerned about my financial situation.”

Devlin gave a little laugh. “He’s an ass.”

“Yes, well . . .” Dora looked closely at the wood trim of the mantel. She heard Devlin draw closer.

“How can I help?”

Dora turned and found he was standing very close. “Cal just called. There’s a problem of a leak. It’s probably the roof. He wants me to find someone who can take a look and tell us what needs to be done.”

“He wants you to find the person?”

She nodded.

Devlin pinched his mouth, keeping what she was sure was a string of unsavory comments from flowing out.

“I’ll take a look. And I should send him a whopping bill, just to teach him a lesson. Only you’d get stuck paying the bill. We can drive up together and I’ll take a good look around and give you my opinion, for what it’s worth.”

“That would be so great. Apparently the workers are slacking off, too.”

“I’ve got good crews who can do the work for a good price. If your guys are jerks, we’ll send them packing.”

“What can I do to thank you?”

Devlin gave her a wicked look that promised mischief, then pointed to the box of paneling. “Grab some gloves, woman, and lend me a hand. I’ve got work to finish before I cook you dinner!”

They spent the rest of the afternoon paneling the back room together while Devlin’s old CD boom box played rock and roll. With the hum of the power tool and hammering, they couldn’t talk much. Instead they sang out the lyrics to songs they remembered from their youth, and during the occasional slow song, Devlin strolled over to her side, swinging his hips to wrap her in his arms and dance with her. He held her close, hummed in her ear, and smelled of sweat and wood, and it was pure heaven.

When at last the room was paneled, Dora and Devlin stood back to admire their work. She’d actually helped panel a room, she thought with stunned surprise. And it had been fun! This is what she’d always imagined it would be like for her and Cal in the house they’d bought. Working together, side by side, taking
pride in their accomplishments, sharing in the glory. It was never going to happen, not if they’d lived in that house for another ten years. She knew that now. It wasn’t the time or the money. Cal didn’t have Devlin’s skill or the desire to do the transformation himself. He wasn’t interested in anything but seeing it done. Cal was, simply, not Devlin.

“Nice job,” Devlin told her, obviously pleased with the turnout.

“I can see how you got hooked,” she said.

“You had a good time, did you?” he asked, curious.

“I did,” she replied honestly. “I never knew how physically exhausting it was, but I had a great time. Can I help with something else?”

Devlin laughed then and wrapped her in his arms. “I knew you were a good ’un.” He kissed her nose, then patted her bottom in a signal they were done. “Let’s take a swim before dinner.”

“I didn’t bring a suit.”

“Yeah? So?”

Dora made a face. “I’m not going skinny-dipping.”

Devlin wagged his brows, then grabbed her hand. “Come on, I won’t look. Much.”

Dora laughed but pulled away. “No way.”

“Chicken. All right. Come on, then, and help me pull up dinner.”

“Where are we going?”

“Down the dock, of course.”

He took her hand again and she followed him outdoors. They walked single-file in the path he’d made through the tall grass that led to the wood dock. It was very long and very narrow, double the length of Mamaw’s dock at Sea Breeze,
because it had to stretch much farther out over the grass to reach water.

“It’s kinda rocky in spots, so be careful,” Devlin warned.

Dora followed Devlin down the rickety walkway over pluff mud and grass. A few slats had rotted through, and Devlin was careful to point each one out along the way. At last they reached the end, where a rickety dock met the waterway.

“I’ll have to replace the dock, too,” Devlin said. “Whew, it sure is hot today.” He took off his T-shirt and wiped his brow with it. “That water sure looks refreshing.” He glanced at Dora.

Dora stuck out her hands. “Don’t. Just don’t!”

“Kick off your sandals, darlin’.”

“Devlin!” She kicked off her flip-flops.

In a flash he grabbed her hand, pulled her close to the edge of the dock, and they both let loose a howl as they jumped together into the water.

She hit the water, and it was cool and refreshing. She burst out laughing as she came up for air, her hair flowing back and the sun shining on her face. Devlin swam to her side and kissed her again, holding her close, beginning again the slow dance in the water.

Later, they climbed back to the dock, refreshed. Devlin went to the edge and pulled up on a thick rope attached to the piling. His wet shirt clung to his body, revealing taut muscles straining as he pulled on the rope, hand over hand, until a large, black iron cage emerged, dripping water. Dora drew closer, curious, then stepped back when she saw at least a dozen crabs skittering noisily inside the trap.

Devlin lifted the trap high and laughed. “You’re as skittish as one of these crabs. Haven’t you ever gone crabbing before?”

“Never!” she exclaimed, warily watching the claws snapping in the air.

“Stand back,” he said, easing the trap onto the dock. “We’ve got dinner!”

Dora helped Devlin again, this time cooking the crabs in a big stainless-steel pot on a gas burner out on the back porch. Dora wore a towel like a sarong and slicked back her hair from her face. There was an old picnic table on the patio that was still standing . . . barely. Devlin spread newspaper over it, set candles in empty beer bottles, and laid out two wooden mallets and a roll of paper towels, while she shucked corn and melted butter. The boom box played golden oldies by Otis Redding.

The sun was setting and Dora was on her third beer by the time the feast was ready. In the distance the glassy waters shimmered in hues of lavender and rose, setting a romantic mood. Devlin lit the candles and guided her to a seat on the bench.

“I know this isn’t quite the setting of the restaurant the other night,” he said by way of apology.

“No, it’s not,” Dora replied, swinging her leg around the bend and sitting. “It’s better.”

Devlin lowered his face to kiss her neck, and she shivered in anticipation of what was to come. Once again, Devlin helped Dora wield a hammer, this time on the crabs to crack the shells and dig out the sweet meat. Putting the crab to her lips, she tasted the pungent Old Bay seasoning and the salt from the sea on her fingers, thinking she’d never in her life tasted anything so delicious.

Tonight, no specter of Cal came between them. They talked seamlessly about whatever came to mind—Nate’s progress, Devlin’s plans for the house. Later they journeyed back to
shared memories of the years they’d dated, laughing at crazy antics, calling out the names of old friends, favorite songs, rumors they’d heard, truths revealed.

When they were done feasting, Devlin took her in his arms and once again they began to dance. He held her close as they moved left to right to the beat of the music, no longer remembering old times they’d shared, but dreaming of new ones to come.

T
oday was special. Nate was becoming increasingly relaxed in his interactions with the dolphins from the floating dock. He’d learned hand signals and played games with the dolphins using balls and rings. He’d even had a T-shirt painted by a dolphin. Today, however, Nate was going to swim with the dolphins.

“How do you feel about getting in the water with the dolphins today?” Carson asked Nate over breakfast. She put a spoonful of cold cereal in her mouth and began chewing, giving him time to answer. Earlier in the summer, Nate had swum daily with Delphine in the Cove behind Sea Breeze. Carson worried that he’d be nervous about going back in the water with a dolphin after Delphine’s accident.

Nate scooped his cereal into his mouth and continued reading the back of the cereal box. When he finished, he set down his spoon and nodded seriously.

“Good,” he said.

“What’s good? The cereal or swimming with the dolphins?”

Nate scowled, as though frustrated with his ninny of an aunt.

“Good to swim with the dolphins.”

That was all Carson needed to know. That, and the excited look in his eyes gleaming against his tanned skin, spoke volumes.

Once there, Nate ran ahead to the lagoon as usual. Carson moved slowly, feeling lethargic in the relentless Florida heat. Watching the boy trot along the path, she reflected on the transformation from a shy, timid boy into this happier, more relaxed version. He wasn’t outgoing; that was not his nature. Yet she could see he felt comfortable here after days of routine. Welcomed. The staff called out his name as he ran along the path, and though he didn’t verbally respond, he raised his hand in a wave of acknowledgment. Most telling of all was the joy she captured on film when he swam with the dolphins.

Joan and Rebecca were waiting and guided them to a different section of the park. This was on the opposite side from where the female dolphins lived. It was a break in his routine from the front lagoon and Carson held her breath as she watched Nate tap his fingers against his mouth, a sign she recognized now as nervousness. But Joan led the way with confidence, marching Team Nate past the wood railings that bordered the lagoon and the houses where the sea lions lived. Two sleek females were basking like mermaids on rocks. Turning a corner, Carson paused to take in the wide expanse of gorgeous Florida Bay.