Swimming Lessons

by Mary Alice Monroe

  In that moment, Toy felt a strong connection with Ethan. It struck deep and true and in that instant, she knew they’d crossed that imaginary line.

  Suddenly an awkward silence surfaced between them. A tension she hadn’t felt with him for weeks bubbled in her chest. Ethan must have felt it, too, because he quickly rose and began packing away the grant. The zipper of the bag hummed shut, and hearing it, Toy realized the full impact of the grant being completed.

  Now there was no reason for Ethan to keep coming by the beach house in the evenings. That realization sucked the elation from the room like a giant vacuum. She felt hollow inside.

  Little Lovie came to her side and hung on her chair. “Can we have some cake now?” She asked with a pleading tone. “Please?”

  “It sure looks good,” Ethan said, his gaze settling on the creamy cake.

  “It’s a carrot cake. I made it to celebrate the grant being done,” she replied, thinking that in truth, she’d made it because he’d said it was his favorite.

  “It’s your birthday cake,” Lovie corrected her. She turned to Ethan. “Mama bought flowers, too.”

  “They’re real nice.”

  Toy rose to go to the kitchen. She reached up to the glass cabinet and pulled out three of her best china plates. “Don’t pay any mind to my birthday,” she said as she carried them to the table. Little Lovie leaned far over on her elbows when she carried the cake to the table. “It’s just another day, and just a cake.”

  “Too late.” Ethan bent to pick up the mystery box from the floor and held it out to her. Toy put the cake down and looked up at him, startled by the rare vulnerability she saw in the usually confident eyes.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “I brought you something,” he said. “To celebrate.”

  “A present? No presents allowed!”

  “Don’t think of it as a present. It’s for your work.” He set the box on the table and with his finger nudged the box closer. “Open it. You’ll see.”

  Toy licked the frosting from her fingers then lifted the box, shaking it close to her ear.

  “If you could see your face now you’d see how much you look like your daughter.”

  “A five-year-old, you mean?”

  “Open it, Mama!”

  “Okay, okay.”

  The box wasn’t wrapped in frilly paper but the tape was indestructible. She resorted to using the cake knife to slice it open. Inside, nestled in the paper, was a camera. Toy’s hands trembled as she lifted the camera box out then gingerly, as if it were made of spun glass, opened the package. Out slipped a slim silver digital camera no bigger than a deck of cards. Turning it in her hands she found it fit perfectly in her palm and weighed next to nothing.

  “It has zoom,” Ethan said, leaning forward as eagerly as a boy while he pointed to a button.

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  “It’s light, so you can carry it in your backpack on the beach. I thought you’d like that.”

  She nodded again.

  “And look. You can preview your pictures on that screen to set them up.”

  The camera had all sorts of bells and whistles that she didn’t know anything about but she wanted to learn. Oh, yes, she truly did. She coveted this camera.

  Releasing a short whoosh of breath, she said, “Thank you. But, I can’t accept this.”

  His face fell. “Sure you can.”

  She could hear her mother’s voice in her ear. Nice girls don’t accept expensive gifts from men. Makes them beholden. Makes them expect something in return. Toy shook her head. “No, it’s too fine a gift. The nicest I’ve ever received. I appreciate the thought. But I can’t.” She was reluctant to put the camera back in its box.

  “Toy…” He seemed to struggle with his words at the tip of his tongue, then said simply, “Think of it as a donation to the turtle hospital.”

  She gave him a slanted glance.

  “Really, you need a camera. Now that the turtle hospital made the move to the basement, I can’t always be there to take a picture for you. I’ll be busy on the third floor. And frankly, that instamatic just doesn’t cut it.”

  “You’re just being nice.”

  “I’m being practical. The more turtles you take in, the more you’ll need to be taking pictures to monitor their progress. And if you get this grant—and you will—you’ll need it. Take it, Toy. Please.”

  She gently, longingly fingered the camera.

  “For the turtles,” he urged.

  Her lips twitched. “Well, when you put it like that…”

  He smiled victoriously.

  “Take my picture, Mama!”

  Toy brought the camera to her eye and looked through the lens. First she aimed it at Little Lovie. The little minx posed with exaggerated flair then stuck out her tongue. Toy moved the camera to Ethan. He stood still, arms at his side, watching her, looking as if his heart had stopped. She felt again the pull of their connection and the air grew thick between them. She pushed the zoom button. The camera released a high pitched hum and in an instant, Ethan’s face appeared inches from her own. She saw the coarse, late evening stubble along his jaw, the thick black lashes that framed eyes as rich and tempting as dark chocolate. Her breath stilled in her throat as she saw the truth evident in the focus of the camera lens.

  You’ll see it and just know.

  Slowly she lowered the camera, lowering her gaze as well, sure that he could zoom in on every sensation and every longing she felt in her heart.

  “I…I don’t really know how to use it,” she said.

  “I’ll teach you.”

  “You will?” she asked, looking up at him again.

  He nodded. Then a half grin slid across his face. “Now that we’re done with the grant, I find my evenings are free now.”

  She laughed out loud, a short, happy burst as if the vacuum she’d felt earlier had switched to reverse and suddenly all the elation that had been sucked from the room had been thrust back in with a whoosh, filling her with joy and unsurpassed giddiness.

  Later that night, long after Ethan had left, Toy took Little Lovie’s hand and together they walked out to the beach to sit on Miss Lovie’s dune. She felt the need to spend a moment with Miss Lovie on her birthday.

  It was high tide on an inky night. A storm was blowing in over the ocean. The roaring wind was insistent and the waves were pounding the shore, creeping perilously close to Big Girl’s nest. She cuddled her daughter on her lap and wrapped a thin cotton blanket around them both. The white corners flapped in the wind, snapping by their ears as they faced seaward, thrilling to the power of nature on display before them. She’d read somewhere that eighty percent of the human body was made up of salt water, and Toy knew it ran thick in their veins.

  Toy could feel the electricity flowing in her daughter. Little Lovie thrilled to the wild, tumultuous power of nature. She shared her mother’s love of the great sea in all its forms—serene, thundering, gentle, dangerous, roaring, lapping, solitary yet teeming with life. When a big wave thundered perilously close, Toy hugged her daughter, delighting in the innocent, full-throated joy of her laugh.

  Oh, Miss Lovie, she silently cried to the spirit of her mentor. This is the best birthday ever. I don’t feel afraid any more! I feel so happy and hopeful.

  Toy felt buffeted by the brute force of her emotions tonight. Cuddling with her daughter, she found comfort here with the two Lovies. One Lovie was her past, the other Lovie was her future. Yet here on this sacred dune, she felt the past and present swirl together, like the wind around them, to form this perfect now.

  The following evening, Ethan came to the beach house as promised. When Toy opened the door, she immediately felt a difference in the air between them. All pretenses that he was here as a colleague to do work had dissipated like the day’s light, leaving them in the sultrier, seductive mood of twilight.

  Lovie ran to Ethan the moment he stepped into the house and wrapped her arms around his long legs
.

  “Ethan! We got a turtle nest today,” she announced, craning her neck far back to look at his face.

  “How many does that make?” he asked.

  Lovie checked with her mother. “Twelve?”

  “That’s right. Twelve and still counting,” she replied, delighted at her daughter’s passion at being a member of the turtle team.

  “The nest isn’t far from here,” Lovie went on. “Do you want to see it? Can I show it to you? Please? I helped put up the sign. That’s my job. Come on, Ethan, you’ll like it.” She tugged at his arm, dragging him to the porch.

  He looked up at Toy, his eyes filled with question. When Toy smiled and nodded, he replied, “Sure, pumpkin, let’s go. Go grab the camera, Toy. We can start your lessons on the beach.”

  The breezes felt balmy and soft on her face as Toy followed Ethan and Lovie along the shoreline. The tide had gone far, far out. Where Breach Inlet was a churning sea mere hours ago, now it lay level as a floor nearly clear across to Sullivan’s Island. A few fools ignored the warning sign and were attempting to walk across, but Toy knew better than to trust the swift changing tides and the rip currents.

  At this late hour most of the shorebirds were resting, but a few peeps still skittered along the far shoreline in their comical, swift-legged run. Overhead in the far distance, an osprey searched for a final fish to bring back to his nest where his mate waited with two hungry young.

  A thick, jagged line of sea wrack marked the high tide line for as far as she could see. Toy spotted an occasional ghost crab scuttling along it, silent as the wind and almost invisible against the sand, its dark, button eyes on the look-out for sand fleas that hid in the wrack.

  Usually, Little Lovie was fascinated with the antics of the ghost crab but tonight her focus was on the sea shells that littered the sand. Toy watched as Lovie skittered along the beach not unlike the ubiquitous crab. From time to time she stopped to pick a shell up and carry it over like a prize to Ethan. One after another he patiently bent low to her level and examined it, then, carefully, handed it back to her.

  “It’s a pen shell,” he replied, or “That one’s a moon snail,” or “a knobbed whelk.”

  Lovie repeated the name with utmost concentration, trying to set it in her brain.

  Toy watched and wondered if Ethan could know how much his give-and-take with her daughter meant to them both?

  When they reached the edge of a long gulley Lovie let out a squeal of delight and ran over to the shallow water. She called Ethan over, waving in excitement for him to hurry.

  Ethan stopped before her and bent to look closer. “What have we got here?”

  “Look, Ethan. It’s a sand dollar!” She handed it to him like it was gold.

  He took the sand dollar in his hands and inspected it. “It’s a beauty, that’s for sure. Why don’t you walk to the shore and gently put it back into the water?”

  Lovie frowned and shook her head. “No, I’m gonna keep it.”

  Toy drew nearer, watching the exchange carefully.

  Ethan lowered himself to her level and drew her near so she could look closely at the creature in his palm. “Look, Lovie. What color is this sand dollar?”

  “Green.”

  “That’s right.” He flipped the sand dollar to its back. “See all those tiny feet waving at you? This sand dollar is still alive. They use their feet to dig or to eat. If we leave it here in the water, when the tide comes back in, it will carry the sand dollar back home again.”

  “But Ethan, I want to keep it. I love sand dollars.”

  “You don’t want to kill it, do you?”

  She shook her head, but without heart. He patted her back, and let her lean against his chest.

  “Lovie, you’re one of the lucky ones. You live here and can see the sand dollar on the beach where it belongs. Look at your pockets, all stuffed with shells to bring home. I’ll bet you have lots of shells at home already, right?” When Lovie nodded, he laughed softly. “I thought so. Just pick the ones you love most, maybe two or three, and leave the rest here for someone else to find. If everyone is careful to take only a few, then there will be enough for us all.”

  Lovie thought about that for a moment, then hunched over her treasures. After some thought, she chose one half of an Angel’s Wing for herself.

  “This one is for you,” she told him, handing him a moon shell. “You call it a shark eye, and I know you like sharks.”

  The rest she left in a small pile on the beach.

  “I’ll treasure this shell and every time I see it,” he told her, “I’ll remember how proud I am of you.”

  Toy hung back, deeply moved by the interaction. She wondered what her daughter was missing at not having a father in her life. She brought her camera up and began taking picture after picture of the pair, unsure of what it was she was seeking through the eyes of the lens.

  Too soon, the sun slipped lower along the horizon and the sky darkened. Toy lowered her camera and called her beach scavengers home. Ethan held Little Lovie’s hand and walked her back to Toy’s side, their feet leaving deep imprints in the soft sand.

  “Mama, I left the sand dollar in the sand,” Lovie announced, testing out her mother’s approval.

  “Good for you! We’ll have to tell the turtle ladies,” she replied.

  When Lovie shot forward toward the house, Ethan ambled to her side.

  “She’s a great kid,” he told her.

  “I know. Thanks.”

  He reached out and brought his hand up to gently sweep a wayward tendril from her face and tuck it around her ear. “She’s a lot like her mother.”

  She felt her heart quicken and licked her parched lips. His gaze darted to her lips and she felt certain that he would kiss her. She held her breath.

  He did not. She was surprised by the punch of her disappointment.

  He tucked his hands in his pockets and they began to slowly walk in an angle from the shore to the dunes. “Toy,” he said hesitatingly. “I was wondering…would you like to have dinner?”

  “Well, sure,” she replied. “I can fix us up something.”

  He chuckled. “No, not tonight. And not with Lovie. Toy, I’m asking you out to dinner. Just the two of us.”

  “On a date?”

  He suppressed a grin. “That’s the idea. You know, you put on a pretty dress and I put on a clean shirt and come by your house to pick you up.”

  “Oh,” she said with a sense of wonderment. “When?”

  He stopped and faced her. “How about Friday night?”

  She turned and looked at him, squinting in the sun. “Okay.”

  He released a grin of pleasure. “Okay. I’ll pick you up at six.”

  Medical Log “Big Girl”

  June 30

  Turtle is making good progress! We are moving her to a bigger tank to give her more room and see if she sinks or floats.

  11

  Friday crawled by slower than a turtle.

  Toy counted the minutes of the day, because that evening, Ethan was taking her out on a date. She counted the minutes while she worked at the Aquarium, wondering if Ethan would come down to the turtle hospital in the basement, hoping he would yet praying he wouldn’t. She counted the minutes driving home from work, cursing every red light along Coleman Boulevard. She counted the minutes as she washed her hair, soaped her body and rinsed in hot water, as she slipped into her sundress bought especially for tonight, styled her hair, applied makeup, sprayed a bit of scent, and as she drove Little Lovie to Cara’s house for the evening.

  By six o’clock she was pacing by the front door, pausing from time to time to look into the hall mirror. She saw in the reflection a fairly attractive, slender woman in her twenties with shoulder length blond hair in a stylish, green cotton sundress. Around her neck she wore a pearl necklace she’d borrowed from Cara. She reached up to touch them with her fingertips. They lay creamy against her tan skin. She’d always thought a string of pearls signaled sophistication.
Girls of quality wore them for graduation photographs, on prom night, and on their wedding day. She had never gone to prom and she didn’t wear a graduation cap and gown. This was the first time she’d ever worn pearls.

  Toy’s hand lowered. Looking deeper into her gray-blue eyes, she saw again the unsure, naive expression shining in them that, in high school, she’d tried to disguise with heavy kohl liner and a hardened, insolent gaze. The kohl was gone now, as was the insolence. Yet traces of the self-doubt lingered in the pale eyes that no makeup could disguise.

  Drawing back, she told herself she was just feeling nervous. She hadn’t been on a real date in years, though it wasn’t for lack of invitations. She’d made such a mess of her life because of men in the past, she wanted to be darn sure she was feeling strong inside before she let any man back into her life. And she’d made the vow to Miss Lovie before she died that she’d change her life for the better. Going out tonight with Ethan was, in a way, her first acknowledgment to herself that just maybe, she’d succeeded.

  She turned away from the mirror. Certainly, Ethan was unlike any man she’d ever met before. He was strong yet gentle, opinionated yet open-minded. And he was kind to her daughter. That counted for a lot. She smiled, feeling certain that Miss Lovie would have approved of Ethan as well. For sure Cara did. It wasn’t so much what she’d said. It was more the look Cara gave her when she’d clasped the pearls around her neck and told her to “have a wonderful time.”

  How silly she was to be nervous, she scolded herself. She saw Ethan most every day at the Aquarium. Yet in her heart she knew this anticipation and excitement came because tonight was different from the casual acquaintance relationship they shared at work. This was, simply, a man taking a woman out for dinner to get to know her better and to enjoy her company.

  The doorbell rang, its two-note gong sending her heart pounding anew. She pressed her hand against her stomach while she steadied her breath, then gaining composure, walked to the door. Fixing a smile, she opened it.