On Ocean Boulevard

by Mary Alice Monroe

  “I’ll work on it.” Linnea was fired up.

  “And I need to get one of those bracelets too.” Cara pointed to the translucent plastic bracelet on her arm.

  “I’ll get you one. My treat.”

  “Well done, Linnea. This is what I call a great start. You always were clever. Creative. I think you’re on to something. I’ll talk to the promotion team here about making the bags. We could sell them here at the aquarium, in shops along the beaches, online.” She clasped her hands. “Let’s give your idea wings. Why don’t you write it up as a proposal? I’ll edit it, add my bit, and we can present it to the committee for approval. Fingers crossed, but I think it’s a winner.”

  The day sped by as Linnea researched her idea and began work on her presentation. She was surprised how quickly five o’clock came. She was back on her game and she couldn’t write fast enough. Cara had left hours earlier to attend a meeting, so Linnea was walking alone through the long, narrow hall to the elevator. She paused to look at the Great Ocean Tank and passed the food prep area for the fish and shelves of books to the waiting area.

  “Linnea!”

  Linnea stopped and turned to see Toy Legare walking toward her. She was dressed in the uniform of khakis and a navy polo with the insignia, her blond hair pulled into a ponytail, like Linnea’s. She was a petite powerhouse. No matter whether it was starting time or quitting time, Toy’s eyes were bright and her smile supercharged.

  “I heard you joined us.”

  Linnea hugged the woman she’d known most of her life. Toy had been the companion of Grandmama Lovie when she fell ill, and later became Cara’s trusted friend. Toy was considered a part of the family. She was now the director of the sea turtle hospital. But Toy was part of the project since the early days when the hospital was in the aquarium basement. Toy had begged, borrowed, and nearly stolen holding tanks for the rescued turtles. Now the Sea Turtle Care Center was the aquarium’s crown jewel.

  “How was your first day?” Toy asked.

  “Couldn’t be better. I’m really psyched to be here.”

  “It’s getting a bit incestuous with me and Cara and now you on board.”

  “Don’t forget Ethan.”

  Ethan, Toy’s husband, ran the Great Ocean Tank. “Oh, him,” Toy said with a giggle.

  “I’m only an intern,” Linnea reminded her.

  “I know you’ll make us proud. Let’s share lunch tomorrow. Now that the weather’s nice, we eat out on the deck overlooking the harbor. I’ll bring dessert.”

  “It’s a date,” Linnea agreed.

  Toy turned and motioned for someone farther down the hall. “I want you to meet a new member of my team.”

  Linnea looked up and burst into a grin. A tall redhead was striding toward them; her step faltered when she spied Linnea.

  Linnea laughed first. “I don’t believe it.”

  Annabelle shook her head with a smirk. “Are you shadowing me?”

  Toy looked from one to the other. “You know each other?”

  “Yeah,” Annabelle replied. “We met a few times on the beach.” She looked again at Linnea. “What brings you here?”

  “A job,” Linnea replied. “An internship, rather. I’ll be working in the conservation program.”

  “Really?” Annabelle said.

  Linnea heard a hint of either disbelief or displeasure in the comment.

  “Annabelle is one of the care center team,” Toy said. “She’s a new hire this year.” She turned to Annabelle. “You began in January, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “She studied at the University of North Carolina Wilmington. We’re lucky to have her.”

  “Hey,” said Linnea, “I wanted to tell you thanks for inspiring me to pick up trash on the beach. I’m going to use that idea for our beach sweep.”

  “The more the merrier,” Annabelle replied with a smile, all hint of competition gone.

  “You know, I think we’re meant to be friends,” Linnea said. “We keep running into each other. Third time’s the charm.”

  “Actually, this is the fourth time, but who’s counting?”

  Linnea smiled but inwardly considered Annabelle’s response. Linnea was mildly annoyed by those people who felt compelled to correct others. A pronunciation of a name, the number of an item, some error… Linnea always let those small errors slide rather than make a correction in public, thus embarrassing the speaker. Most people got the mistake anyway; why point it out? Lovie used to say, “There are always people who like to put their paws on your back.” Which meant they liked to display dominance. Annabelle seemed to be one of those people.

  Toy glanced from one to the other, then said, “Now that you two know each other, I’ll leave you to carry on. There’s someone I need to talk to.” She hailed someone in the hall.

  Linnea and Annabelle started walking toward the elevator, where a small group was already waiting.

  “There’s supposed to be some good wind tomorrow,” Annabelle said. “Want to catch some waves?”

  “I won’t have time,” said Linnea. “Work day, right? I’ve got to make a good impression. I can’t show up late.”

  “You won’t if we get out by six. We can ride for an hour and get out in time for work. Besides, you promised me you’d teach me your beach etiquette.”

  “Sure, but, uh, you know you can YouTube all that.”

  “I want to know what the rules are for this beach. Before Mickey has to explain them to me again.”

  Linnea laughed. “I’d be a little afraid of Mickey too. Okay. Text me. We’ll see if the waves hold. You still have my number?”

  Annabelle frowned and shook her head. “I lost it.”

  When the elevator bell rang, they both hurried to catch it, punching numbers into their phones.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Researchers from the University of Exeter and Plymouth Marine Laboratory examined fifty animals from ten species of dolphins, seals, and whales—and found microplastics in them all.

  A WEEK PASSED in a blur. Linnea worked with a feverish excitement she hadn’t felt in a long time to round out her idea for the Plastic Bag/Beach Sweep campaign. Cara was focused on how to engage the community, Linnea on how to inspire the individual. Together they developed and delivered a concept that they both felt enthusiastic about.

  Today would begin yet another phase of her position. She would be the representative of the aquarium’s conservation program at her first meeting. Linnea took care with her appearance, wanting to put her best foot forward. She pulled out of the closet the new tan suit she’d purchased for the occasion, and a pair of open-toed bone pumps. She slipped into an ivory blouse, then the pencil skirt. Looking in the mirror, she realized it wasn’t the vintage look she loved, still, she was pleased with the chic yet conservative image she presented, much like her mentor, Cara. There was something about wearing a new outfit for a special occasion that made one feel special too.

  A soft knock sounded on the door and her mother poked her head in. “Good morning! Want some coffee?”

  “Thank you,” Linnea said, hurrying across the room to accept the mug. “That was kind of you.”

  “My, don’t you look nice,” Julia said. “New suit?”

  “Thanks, Mama. Yes. I pretty much depleted my bank account with this suit and the shoes. But they’re worth it, aren’t they?”

  “Very nice. And you’ll get a lot of wear out of that outfit. One can never go wrong with a summer suit and bone shoes.”

  “I figure I’ll wear them like a uniform this summer. Cara wants me to go out and speak to schools, companies, and community groups. I have to look the part.”

  “Where are you going this morning?”

  “It’s a meeting of local nonprofits. We’re discussing solutions for problems with water quality. The focus is plastics and microplastics. Cara wants this to be my main area of work.”

  “I’m sure you’ll impress them.”

  Linnea slipped into the
pumps, smoothed her long hair back, and stood straight before her mother. “How do I look?”

  After a perusal, Julia set down her coffee cup. “You’re missing one thing. Hold on.”

  Linnea took another critical glance. What was missing? She thought she looked very professional. Not much makeup, polished pale nails. Cara had once told her that new clothes were like the ceremonial armor knights donned before battle.

  Her mother walked in, carrying something. “Here,” Julia said, handing her a pair of earrings. “Try these.”

  Linnea looked at the gold hoop earrings that she’d long admired when her mother wore them. Three colors of gold—yellow, white, rose—twined together. “The tricolor earrings.”

  “Tricolore,” her mother corrected her, using the Italian pronunciation. She took one and began slipping it into Linnea’s ear. “My favorite. Your father bought these for me on our honeymoon in Italy. They don’t make earrings with that much gold anymore.” She finished slipping the earrings on and stood back to look. “Much better. Now, don’t lose them. They’re yours.”

  “Mama! I can’t accept these. You love them.”

  “Which is why I want to give them to you. You are, after all, my only daughter. It brings me pleasure to see you wear them. And”—she smiled knowingly—“I want to thank you. I got a call the other day from a woman—Imogen James—about decorating her house.” Julia lifted one brow. “She told me that you gave her my name as a decorator.”

  Linnea looked up sheepishly. “Was that okay?”

  “Actually,” Julia replied, “yes. I’m surprised to admit this, but I’m delighted.”

  “I’m so glad,” Linnea said. “And relieved.”

  “She sounds British.”

  “She is. That’s Granny James, Pandora’s great-aunt. Well, what do you know? She called.” Linnea crossed her arms. “Do I get a finder’s fee?”

  “Happily.”

  “Cool. I can use the money. Once you do this house, the commissions will flow in.”

  “We’ll see,” her mother said in a worried tone. “I drove by her address, and my goodness, it’s a big house. I don’t know if I’m qualified to do what she wants done.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Only a transformation,” she replied with a short laugh.

  “Oh, is that all?” Linnea giggled. “The house is an eyesore.”

  “Seriously, Linnea, this is an important commission. But a huge job. Am I up to it?”

  “Of course, you are. It’s no bigger a house in square feet than the one Daddy’s building. How did you leave it with her?”

  “Mrs. James is a formidable woman. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. Her friend, Mrs. Muir, apparently was very flattering about me. That has to be Marietta Muir of Sea Breeze.” Julia said with a small smile of remembrance. “I haven’t seen her in years.” Julia shook her head in wonder. “Anyway, I explained that I would be delighted to bring my portfolio, but that I wasn’t free until sometime after the Fourth of July. Linnea, I need to make a portfolio!”

  “No problem. We’ve got this.”

  “Good, because I’m counting on you. You volunteered to make me one and I’m taking you up on your offer. And business cards.”

  “Those are easy to get done. The portfolio is going to be a push—but don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. And I’ll get my friend to make you a website.”

  “Do we have time?”

  “Yes, but it’s crunch time. I’m so excited for you, Mama! This could be your big break.”

  “Or my big fall.”

  “Half-full!” Linnea teased.

  “I’ve got to finish Daddy’s house too.”

  Linnea’s smile fell. “Mama, what’s going on over there? It was so busy, then suddenly everything is quiet. I don’t see anyone working.”

  “It’s probably just the holiday coming. July fourth falls midweek so people are taking time off before or after. It’s to be expected.”

  “Well, I’m working,” Linnea, said taking a final look in the mirror. She tapped the gold hoops, thrilled to have them. “Thanks again, Mama.” She kissed Julia’s cheek and grabbed her purse from the dresser.

  She crossed the main room to the kitchen, her heels clicking on the hardwood floors.

  Palmer, hearing her, lifted his head from the Post and Courier. “Well, well, well! Don’t you look smart.”

  Linnea leaned over to kiss his cheek. He smelled of aftershave and coffee. “Thanks, Daddy.”

  “Where you off to?”

  “A meeting.”

  His brows rose and his eyes gleamed in, she realized with pleasure, approval.

  Linnea took a final swallow of her coffee. “I’d better be going. Have a good day, Daddy.”

  “You too, baby,” he replied as he lifted his paper again. Then he paused and called out as she crossed the room: “Linnea!”

  Linnea stopped and turned. “Yes?”

  A sly smile crossed his face. “Nice earrings.”

  * * *

  THE MEETING WAS held in the office of Charleston Waterkeeper, which was a short walk from the South Carolina Aquarium. Linnea’s arms were laden with her laptop and handouts she’d created for her new campaign, enough for the group of twenty expected participants.

  The conference room overlooked the harbor, filling the space with natural light. She paused at the entrance to scope out the room. Several men and women, all of them youngish, were talking in small groups in that friendly manner that spoke of familiarity. With a sinking heart, she didn’t recognize anyone. Yet everyone in the group had the natural, relaxed look of people involved with environmental work. These were her people, she told herself. Linnea strolled across the room to the table where coffee and cookies were set up and poured a cup. She didn’t really want more coffee, but it kept her busy. She hoped the meeting would start soon.

  From behind she heard the door open and hellos called out and returned. One of them was a familiar voice with a British accent. She turned, nervously stirring her coffee, and sucked in her breath. Across the room was Gordon. He appeared lean and fit in khakis, a braided leather belt, and a crisp white shirt, rolled up to reveal tanned forearms. His hair was neatly combed but curls managed to escape, especially around his forehead. Linnea found his rather bashful boyishness beguiling. He was speaking to one of the men, sharing a laugh, when he reached up and unconsciously ran his hand through his hair. Linnea held back a giggle when immediately more curls sprang free.

  She watched him progress smoothly from one person to the next, shaking hands. People in the room sought him out, eager to talk to him, and she wondered why. When he was a few feet away he glanced her way as though aware he was being watched. She blushed and looked down to stir her coffee.

  She heard his footfalls approach and her stomach clenched.

  “Hello,” he said in the accented voice she loved.

  Linnea lifted her head, met his gaze, and forgot all about her coffee. All the pieces of his face came together nicely enough, but his blue eyes arrested her.

  “Hello.”

  “Our paths seem destined to cross,” he said, his smile encouraging.

  “Yes.”

  “Fellow surfers, and now it appears we’re colleagues as well. You told me you were a volunteer for sea turtles. But that wouldn’t bring you to this meeting.”

  “I could say the same thing. I work at the South Carolina Aquarium. In the conservation program. And you’re here because…?”

  “Dual role, actually,” he said in mock seriousness. “Officially, I’m a representative of Surfrider International.”

  “Of course you are,” Linnea said in gentle tease.

  “But I’m also here to talk about my new research paper.”

  “You’re the speaker? Dr. Carr?”

  “I am. Lest you think I’m stalking you or some such.”

  “I was beginning to wonder,” she joked.

  “I really was worried. I mean, every time you turn around, there I am.�
��

  “Lucky me.”

  His eyes brightened and Linnea looked down at her coffee. She liked a bit too much his accent, his smile, his eyes, the way he tilted his head when he spoke.

  “So,” he said. “Am I meant to guess your last name? No name tags.”

  “Oh,” she said. “I’m Linnea Rutledge.”

  “As in Rutledge Avenue?”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  The meeting was beginning, and people were asked to take seats.

  “Shall we?” he asked, extending his hand.

  She followed him without further word to the long conference table. They found two metal chairs side by side in the center. He pulled out her chair and she settled in. Linnea set her coffee on the table, put her bag on the floor, and reached down to pull out a notepad and pen. She was very aware of the man sitting to her left and made every effort not to bump into him.

  Before long, she was engrossed in the topic of the meeting. They went around the table and identified themselves and the organizations they represented. She discovered that Gordon was a postgraduate researcher from the University of Exeter and the Plymouth Marine Laboratory in England. He was here today to present his recently published paper on microplastics.

  Linnea cleared her throat and introduced herself. Her voice didn’t crack and she hoped she sounded professional. She hadn’t realized how nervous she would be in the company of such esteemed colleagues from the College of Charleston, the University of South Carolina, Clemson University, the Coastal Conservation League, Friends of Coastal South Carolina, Ducks Unlimited, NOAA, the South Carolina Department of Natural Resources, Surfrider International, and Charleston Waterkeeper. She felt the weight of responsibility representing the aquarium.

  After his introduction, Dr. Carr rose to a smattering of applause to speak. He began by bantering for a few minutes, bringing up his experiences as a surfer, his lifelong love of the oceans, and how this was his first visit to South Carolina. It worked to create a relaxed atmosphere. Linnea saw he was an experienced speaker. Confident, thoughtful, never boastful. It was his modesty that won them over. And his British wit. Quickly enough, he dove into the meat of his subject.