Swimming Lessons

by Mary Alice Monroe

  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 foll
owing 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.”

  Cara doubted it was by coincidence. “Palmer, you know I don’t want to mess with short term rentals. Everything in the house is just too precious. I’d be afraid some party or young children would get careless and something would get broken.”

  “That’s what makes this lady unique. She’s older, maybe fifty-something, and she is looking for a long term rental.”

  “Do you know how much I’d have to charge her for that location?”

  “Honey, I’m telling you, this house is exactly what she’s looking for. And she’s got pots of dough and can afford to pay you what this location is worth. Not the paltry sum you’re collecting from Toy.”

  “Palmer…” she said in warning.

  “It’s a perfect set-up. We both know that a long term rental like that is hard to find. Look, I know how tight things are for you right now and that money could come in handy.”

  “Brett shouldn’t have told you that.”

  “Hey, I’m your brother. He didn’t go out of house.”

  “Even still.”

  “If you don’t want this rental, so be it. The point is, it’s time to talk to Toy about finding a new place.”

  “We’ll see,” Cara said, then dipped her head to sip her water.

  Toy stood in the kitchen with a butter dish in her hand. She didn’t mean to overhear Cara and Palmer’s conversation, but she’d heard her name and paused at the door in time to hear Palmer tell Cara to rent the house for more money.

  A faint prickling spread across her face and her stomach felt like it had dropped to the floor. She didn’t have any idea that Cara and Brett were stretched for cash. They’d never let on, or even hinted that they needed to raise her rent. She slowly turned and went back into the kitchen. Setting the butter on the counter she looked out over the dunes to the ocean, feeling dazed. She knew the day would come when she would have to leave the beach house. But that day had always seemed so far away—some distant time when her life was settled. The white-tipped waves rolled into the beach, one after another in constant motion. She took a long shuddering breath and closed her eyes. In truth, she never saw herself leaving the beach house. She couldn’t even imagine living anywhere else but here, where she felt safe, secure, loved.

  Ethan’s words of the day before came back to her: change is a part of nature. She’d thrilled to those words the other night. Today, those same words shook her world.

  Flo brought a plate full of food to Cara then plopped down in the chair beside her. Her hands grabbed hold of a bun filled with juicy barbecue pork and brought it to her mouth. She closed her eyes and released a slight groan of pleasure.

  “I think the barbecue pork is the best ever this year,” she said.

  “You say that every year.”

  “Every year it’s good, but this year the red sauce has some serious bite to it.”

  “I’m partial to the fried chicken myself. You done good, Flo. It’s as light and crispy as can be.”

  “Thank you,” Flo replied in a tone that implied she already knew that to be the case. “I did a little something different with the batter. Miranda never let me change a whit in the past, but this time… Oh, never mind. I can tell you really care.”

  “I’ve never been one for cooking. But I’m real proud of my pie.”

  Flo dabbed a bit of sauce from her chin with a crumpled flag napkin then said, “Frankly, I’ll be glad when the festivities are over and done with this year.”

  “Oh? Aren’t you having a good time?”

  “Sure, sure. A great time. It’s not that. I’m just in a frazzle whether that nest will pop tonight with all those people out there.”

  Cara hid her smile, recalling Brett’s comment.

  Flo looked at her, assessing. “So, I guess you’re out of commission tonight?”

  “Afraid so. Sorry.”

  “Your back, eh?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” she replied, biting into her chicken.

  “No nausea? Tender breasts? Anything like that?”

  Cara looked heavenward. “Just the back.”

  Flo shifted in her chair and took another bite from her sandwich. “Like I said, I hope the hatchlings don’t come out tonight. If they do, we’ll need all the help we can get.”

  “With all the noise out there, I doubt it will hatch anyway.”

  “You never know, those wily turtles. Who’d have thought a turtle would come ashore right where a bunch of tourists were partying? Remember the Fourth of July that crazy sea turtle crawled up right at Front Beach?”

  “Oh, yeah, I do remember! When was that? Two years ago? Three?”

  “Four,” she replied in a know-it-all tone. “That turtle couldn’t have picked a worse spot to land, but crawl ashore she did. I remember I was eating dinner when the police called me to come over. I dropped everything and ran but by the time I’d arrived the turtle was surrounded by tourists. They were clicking cameras and trying to touch the shell. Most didn’t know better, but still.”

  “I remember. Thank heavens Brett was there. He had to push back a few drunken fools who wanted to ride the turtle back to the sea like they’d heard their granddaddy once did. He almost got into a fight with one of them. I was fit to be tied.”

  “Thank goodness the police came to explain the facts to them.” Flo shook her head, sending her dangling earrings rocking. “That poor turtle, she was frantic. I’ve never seen a sea turtle hiss at a body before that. And I mean never to see it again.”

  “From your lips to God’s ears.”

  “Well, let’s hope nothing happens tonight. If it does, we’d sure need you out there.”

  “I can’t, Flo. I could ask Brett to cover for me.”

  “No, don’t bother him. He has precious few nights off. Well,” Flo said rising like a bolt. “I’m going for seconds on this barbecue before Cooper eats it all. I swear that boy’s been parked in front of that p
ork all night. He’s growing right before my eyes.”

  Later that evening, when the sky began to darken and the food was cleared from the tables, Brett earned the accolades of the women and teasing of Palmer when he went into the kitchen to help clean up after the feast. All the focus quickly shifted from him, however, as soon as Ethan walked into the room.

  Flo and Emmi were at his side faster than hungry swamp mosquitoes on a humid night. He was dressed in casual island attire—khaki shorts, a loose shirt and sandals. His dark hair was brushed back from his forehead to settle loosely along the collar of his shirt. He had a strongly featured face that was proud yet not aloof. His eyes were deeply set and he wasn’t afraid to look someone straight in the eye while he fielded their questions with a polite evasiveness that impressed Cara.

  She was sitting like a queen bee in her chair off in the corner, watching. This evening she’d discovered that she liked being invisible. People walked past her to join in other conversations and it afforded her the chance to simply observe.

  She saw the speculation in Brett’s eyes as he checked out this young suitor of Toy’s. In contrast, Palmer was all handshakes and welcome, no doubt hoping this young man would marry Toy and carry her off someplace—anyplace—other than the beach house. The lady in question seemed coquettish when she went to greet Ethan and gently but firmly unwound Emmi’s arm from his and replaced it with her own. As she made the introductions, Cara saw a spark in Toy’s eyes that she had never seen before. When she saw Ethan turn his head to look at Toy, she saw that same spark in his eyes.

  Very interesting, she thought as she rose from her chair. It was high time she got to know this man better. She took but one step when the first boom of a firecracker burst in the sky, startling them all. Cooper whooped and hollered for everyone to hurry up as he bolted for the rear door with Little Lovie in hot pursuit. En masse, they grabbed a drink or a sweater and marched to the rhythm of percussive explosions to the rear porch that faced the ocean, excitement bubbling for the big show to begin. To their right, they could see in the distance the finale of the Sullivan’s Island fireworks. Then boom! An explosion of color burst straight ahead over the ocean in all its whistling glory. Brett came to stand beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Together they lifted their gazes to the sky.