On Ocean Boulevard

by Mary Alice Monroe

  CARA SAT HUDDLED in a chair in the waiting lounge, her heart broken. She had not felt so lost, so utterly bereft since Brett’s death years earlier. Was she cursed to love and lose love? Did love always end so harshly? she wondered.

  The elevator doors swished open. Looking up, she was startled to see her brother step through the sliding doors. He was neatly dressed but his face looked somber. When their eyes met, he extended his arms as he quickened his pace to her side. Cara rose and walked into them. She put her head on her brother’s shoulder, relishing the comfort she found there.

  “Sister mine,” Palmer said. “I’m so sorry.”

  Cara was too choked up to reply.

  “Come sit down,” he said gently, guiding her back to her chair. “Have you eaten? You’re skin and bones.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “You have to eat. You’re no use to Hope if you end up sick in this hospital as well. I’ll go get you something.”

  Cara lurched out her hand to hold his arm. “Don’t go. I just want to sit here awhile with my big brother.”

  “Don’t fret. I’ll stay.”

  “I’m waiting for word from the doctor. And truly, I couldn’t eat a bite now.”

  Palmer sat in the chair beside hers, adjusting his seat. “You’d think they’d make more comfortable seating, knowing people would be putting their asses down in them for hours.”

  “My body aches so badly it doesn’t notice any longer.”

  “What’s the word?”

  “She has pneumonia. She’s on antibiotics and we’re waiting to see how she responds.” She spoke without emotion.

  “They know what they’re doing here. Don’t you worry.”

  Cara didn’t respond. Telling a mother not to worry about her sick child was like telling her not to breathe.

  “I saw a friend of yours downstairs.”

  “Who?”

  “Your fiancé.”

  Cara startled. “David? He’s downstairs?”

  “Yeah. Apparently you told him not to come upstairs with you.”

  “Not exactly. We… had words.”

  “So I understand.” Palmer gave her a knowing look. “Did you break it off?”

  She took a breath. “I may have.”

  “Did you mean to?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” she said wearily. “I was just so angry at him.”

  “Well, he thinks you did. And he’s hurt. And maybe a little angry too.”

  Cara reached up to scratch her skull with a soft moan. “I can’t worry about him now. I just can’t.”

  Palmer said, “Cara, I know you’re in a state and all, and I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, but I feel I ought to tell you something.”

  Cara looked at him warily.

  “I don’t think you fully appreciate the power of your personality,” he began.

  “My what?”

  “Hear me out. When we were young, even though I was older, I was always a little afraid of you.”

  She scoffed. “Oh, come on.”

  “I’m serious. I don’t mean you weren’t loving and all. I can’t think of a better sister. But when you got mad, or someone got in your way, you could cut them off at the knees. Why do you think I let you do battle with Daddy? You were better at it than I was! Hell, I’ll wager he was a little afraid of you too… the ol’ son of a bitch. Reckon that’s why you were so good at being an executive. You’re smart, you think fast, and you don’t suffer fools.”

  Cara took a deep breath. She’d vaguely known, as one is aware of one’s own strengths and weaknesses, that she was strong-minded. But to hear her brother describe her in such a way was sobering. “What are you trying to tell me?”

  “Only this. You gave David both barrels. He’s reeling. I don’t know if you can come back from this.”

  Cara felt stung. “I don’t know if I want to.”

  Palmer put his palms up. “Fair enough. But be sure, Sister. Because if you have doubts, you might still have time to rectify the situation.”

  Cara mulled this over, leaning back in her chair. “I thought you didn’t like David,” she said morosely.

  “It’s not that I don’t like him. Truth be told, I was jealous of him. He’s rich, successful, and as if that wasn’t enough, he’s goddamn good-looking too. That’s a lot to take when your own ship is going down.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed a leg over the other knee.

  Cara let out a short laugh, more from emotional release than humor.

  “Cara, he’s a good man,” Palmer said. “And as Flannery O’Connor wrote, a good man is hard to find.” He paused, then slapped his hands on his knees and rose to his feet. A man on a mission. “I’m going to get you something to eat. Maybe cheese and crackers. A candy bar. Want coffee?” When she shook her head, he said, “I’ll be back.” He turned and began walking toward the elevator.

  “Palmer!” Cara called out.

  Palmer stopped to look back over his shoulder. The elevator rang.

  “Thank you.”

  * * *

  IT WAS THE longest night of her life. Cara sat in the chair beside Hope’s bed. Her backache was a constant. Her mind plagued her with worries about Hope and questions about her feelings for David. Palmer’s words had shaken her. Cara didn’t pretend to try to sleep. She wrapped her shoulders in the thin hospital blanket, but her feet were as cold as ice. Still, she must’ve dozed off because she roused when the night nurse came in to check on her patient.

  Cara’s head darted up from Hope’s mattress when she felt a hand gently shake her shoulder. “What?” she gasped.

  “Sorry to waken you,” the nurse whispered. “I have to check on your daughter.”

  Cara’s gaze darted to her daughter. Hope lay sleeping on the bed, and it appeared she was breathing steadily.

  “Yes, all right,” Cara said, mopping her face with her palms.

  She stood and moved away, then watched the nurse check the IV and the instruments. She took Hope’s temperature. Hope moaned but didn’t awaken.

  “How is she?” Cara asked.

  “She’s stable and that’s good.” The nurse smiled kindly. “She’s a fighter.”

  “But not out of danger…”

  “You’ll have to ask the doctor about that.”

  Cara felt another chill. She reached for her purse. “Where’s the chapel?”

  The nurse looked at her with compassion. “On the third floor. Turn left when you step off the elevator.”

  “Thank you.”

  One foot in front of another, Cara walked across the horrid pattern of the green and blue carpeting. The hall and lounge were deserted. Not a soul was in sight. She didn’t even see a nurse at the station. The dim lights and isolation made the place seem ghostly. She quickened her step and punched the elevator button.

  The chapel was easy to find. She pushed open the wood doors and entered a dimly lit room heavy with scent. No doubt, many candles were lit in this room over the course of time. Cara had had all night to think about the things she’d said to David. Palmer was right—she’d been deliberately cruel. She didn’t know what had come over her. She’d felt a rage bellow out, unstoppable. She’d kept her feelings bottled up for so long that when she was traumatized and lost control, they exploded, like a shaken can of soda. Still, she was ashamed of having hurt him. True feelings or not, she should have been honest with him long before about the wedding. It was wrong to yell at him when she could have talked to him. Should have… Oh God, she thought, covering her face. It seemed her life was a litany of things she should have done.

  The small chapel had a pretty window of stained glass above the altar, and a crucifix of brass, handsome and not too big. She let the door close silently behind her. The dozen wooden pews, six on each side, were empty except for one man on the left.

  David. Even in the dim light, she could recognize him. His head and shoulders were bent. Cara walked up the center aisle and moved into David’s pew. He jerked his head up at t
he noise. Seeing it was her, he went still, watching her with his dark eyes. His face looked tired.

  Cara sat beside him and looked straight ahead at the altar.

  For a long while, neither of them spoke. In time, however, the stiffness she felt in her spine softened. She didn’t feel anger any longer. Or hurt. She felt afraid. Helpless. She hadn’t been in a church in years. She’d never even christened Hope. She’d never been much of a churchgoer. She believed in God and prayed in her own way, in her own time and place. Usually out on the beach when she saw the dawn rise over the ocean in a show of hope and blessings. Or at night during a sunset, when the sky was aflame with the royal colors of gold and purple. Her mama used to tell her that sunsets were proof that God existed. And she believed it was true.

  But now, sitting in an actual chapel, she felt compelled to speak directly to the Lord. To plead for his mercy, even if she didn’t deserve it. Cara lowered her head, clasped her hands and began to pray.

  Dear God, she began silently. I know it’s been a long time since I’ve prayed in a church like this, but I’ve always known you’re there. I’m praying to you tonight, in your house, because I’ve been brought low. I don’t know what to do. I’m not here for myself. I’m praying for my daughter. Hope. Please, Lord, let me have the measles, she prayed, clutching her hands fervently. Let me have the pneumonia. If someone must die, let it be me. Please. Don’t take Hope. She’s so young. She has her whole life ahead of her. I’ve had a good life. You’ve tossed me a few things I didn’t think I’d ever forgive you for. But I kept going, and you blessed me with a child I never thought I’d have, and a second love I never dreamed possible. I thank you for those miracles. You’re known for miracles. I believe in them. So I’m praying for one now. Grant me this one. Let me bear this for Hope. Please, God.

  Next, she prayed to her mother. She hoped this wasn’t sacrilegious. But she felt certain her mother was up in heaven and that if anyone had connections with the Almighty, it would be her.

  Mama, take care of my baby, she prayed. Please, don’t let anything happen to her. It’s not her fault. I’ll take the punishment. Please, she’s all I’ve got. Put in a good word for her, will you? Hope is your grandchild. I wish she could have known you. She would have loved you, and you her. But don’t you call her now. I need her more. I don’t ask for much. But… Mama… I’m begging for this.

  Cara felt the tears flow down her cheeks and she couldn’t stop the sobs anymore than she could stop the fury hours earlier. She felt David’s arm slide around her shoulders and draw her closer to him. She leaned against him, felt his strength, and let her sorrow flow from her in a great release. His hand kept patting her shoulder, a steady reminder that he was there. That she wasn’t alone.

  The tears subsided as quickly as a summer storm. She wiped her eyes but kept her head on his shoulder awhile longer, relishing the comfort she felt there. She wasn’t sure she had the strength to lift it.

  “I’m sorry,” she said at last.

  “I’m sorry too.”

  “I said some terrible things.”

  There was a long pause before he said, “Yes, you did.”

  She took a breath and straightened to look him in the face. He returned her gaze unflinchingly.

  “Cara, if you were so angry, I wish you would have told me.”

  “I know. I should have.”

  “You really didn’t want a big wedding?”

  “At this point, I don’t really care anymore. I can’t even think about it. Hope is so sick. All I can think about is her.”

  “I understand. But here, in God’s house, please tell me the truth. Do you feel that I’m controlling? That I’m pushing you to do things you don’t want to do? Because, Cara, I hope you know that’s not what I’m trying to do. I just… I love you. I know you’ve been hurt so many times in your life. I simply wanted to make you happy.”

  “I know. And because I know that, I tried to make you happy by going along.”

  “Going along? With what?”

  “A big wedding. A fancy dress. The whole shebang.”

  He offered a sad smile. “I did want it. I just never realized how much you didn’t want it.”

  She reached out to take his hand. “David, I hope you know I didn’t mean those things I said.”

  “I think you did.”

  She winced. “Partly, perhaps. But I was speaking about how I felt, and I blamed you for it. Yes, I was mad. But I was angrier at myself than you. I tried to put my feelings aside. Now I know that’s not a good idea because the anger just builds and builds until I can’t hold it in anymore. But, for what it’s worth, I did it because I love you too.”

  “So, you don’t think I’m pushy.”

  “You’re determined,” she amended. “But you’re also very generous, and kind, and your motives are always pure.”

  He shrugged, but she could see he was mollified. “What hurt the most was that you called Hope your daughter.”

  She tucked her hair behind her ear, registering what he’d told her. Determined to be honest, she said, “It hurt me quite a bit that you put Heather ahead of Hope.”

  She heard the sigh rumble in his chest. He looked older in that moment, weary with worry. At a breaking point himself.

  “Cara,” he said, then paused. “I’m a father. I don’t put any child in front of the other. If I’m guilty of anything, it was not putting you first. I’ll try to do better communicating with you. I rely on your strength. I haven’t had someone to lean on in a long time. But I didn’t stay away because I love Heather more than Hope. I simply thought she needed me more. And I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

  Cara nodded, accepting his apology. “David…”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m not that strong.” She spoke so softly he had to lean closer to hear. “I’m afraid.”

  “I am too.”

  “If she doesn’t…” Her voice cracked.

  “Shh… she will. She has the very best care. And she’s a fighter. She has a lot of her mother in her.”

  In the dim light of the chapel, enveloped in incense, Cara thought of Elena, the courageous young woman who’d fought to keep her daughter, to give her life. Who’d given up her family, her country, all that was safe and secure, for her child. Even though Cara knew David had meant her, the strong mother had been Elena. Yes, she thought, Hope was a lot like her mother. And her mother had named her daughter Esperanza. Hope. She had been Cara’s gift when she most needed it. Her answer to her prayer. Hope would be what she clung to now.

  “When she gets out of the hospital,” Cara said on an optimistic note, “she will need time to recover. Weeks. Maybe longer.” She was quiet a moment, then looked up at David. “We have to cancel the wedding.”

  He looked momentarily stunned. “But we will still get married…?”

  “Yes! Of course.” She smiled. “I love you. I want to marry you. But I can’t—” she began, then amended: “I don’t want to deal with a big wedding while my daughter is recovering.”

  “Our daughter,” he corrected.

  “Our daughter.” She looked into his eyes and waited.

  “I agree,” he said promptly. “We’ll postpone the wedding.”

  She had to speak her mind now, she told herself. “When we do get married, I don’t want a big wedding. Just family and friends. At home.”

  He understood all. “Fine with me.”

  She smiled and felt the weight of the world slide from her shoulders. This was about so much more than a big wedding. They both knew the wedding was merely a symbol for communication, making amends, putting the other person’s wants and needs first. What they were saying now was about what was at the heart of being married.

  Cara conceded, “Though I could still wear my dress.”

  He chuckled. David took her hands and his smile fled, replaced by a look of such earnestness, even devotion, it took her breath away.

  “Cara Rutledge, here, in this house of God, I promise I will seek
out your opinion, your wishes, before I rush into making arrangements. I will take your feelings into consideration.”

  “David Wyatt, here, in this house of God, I promise I will share my feelings with you and not bottle them up inside. I will strive to be honest and fair. And kind.”

  “I vow to love you, care for you. And cherish your independence.”

  “I vow to love you, care for you. And cherish your generosity.”

  “I will be your husband. And love you forever.”

  Cara felt her throat thicken. These were the vows she’d wanted to make all along. Meaningful promises made to each other, just to each other, him and her.

  “I will be your wife. And love you and only you, forever.”

  Then they both smiled and said at the same time, “And Hope.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Every year, millions of tons of plastic enter the oceans, of which the majority spills out from rivers. A portion of this plastic travels to ocean garbage patches, getting caught in a vortex of circulating currents. If no action is taken, the plastic will increasingly impact our ecosystems, health, and economies.

  THE FOURTH OF July was the busiest holiday on the islands. The sun shone in a brilliant sky, bringing a flood of visitors onto the beach. The beach was littered with colorful towels. Unfortunately, after the sun went down and the fireworks celebrations were over, the visitors left and the beaches were littered with garbage, castaway chairs, tents, toys, cigarette butts, and plastic.

  The fifth of July marked Linnea’s first Beach Sweep for the South Carolina Aquarium. She arrived in the aquarium van with Annabelle and Toy, who’d volunteered to be her assistants in the sweep. She was anxious that the event be a success. It could make or break her reputation at the aquarium.

  It was late afternoon and the day-trippers to the island were queuing up along the Connector to get back to the mainland after a day of sun. She parked in a reserved spot and looked at her friends in the front seat. Everyone was dressed in khaki shorts and a bright yellow aquarium T-shirt.