The Summer's End

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The Summer's End Page 33

by Mary Alice Monroe


  “Did that dolphin just wave good-bye?” said Dr. Spencer with disbelief.

  Dr. Fair smiled. “Never underestimate a dolphin.”

  They all continued watching to see where she’d resurface. Holding a collective breath.

  “There!” Blake shouted. “At two o’clock.”

  In the distance, they saw Delphine leaping in the air, a spray of gray against the sky, before she disappeared again.

  After a collective sigh everyone laughed, hugged, and patted backs, delighted with the successful release of another dolphin to the wild. Everyone began walking slowly back to the ramp.

  Except Carson.

  She stood alone, waist deep in the warm water, staring out after Delphine. She felt a hole in her heart. Letting go was harder than she’d thought it would be. She stood quietly while inside her emotions roiled, seeking one more glimpse of glistening dorsal fin arching over the dark seawater. But she saw nothing. The current ran strong, creating ripples in the water. But Delphine was gone.

  “Carson?”

  Carson swung around to find Blake standing beside her in the water. She studied his face, long and slender, the thick, dark brows over eyes the color of chocolate, which were searching her face with worry. Blake had come back for her. Of course he had. . . .

  Carson would later blame it on the high emotions of the day, the highs and lows she’d endured the past few weeks. But seeing Delphine this morning, watching her swim off to join her family, to live her life fully, as she was meant to, brought Carson to the brink. The tide of tears that she’d been holding in erupted like a dam bursting. Carson fell into Blake’s arms and released great heaving sobs and torrents of tears. Blake tightened his strong arms around her and held her close.

  She heard his voice by her ear. “I know . . . it’s okay.” Blake held her close, bringing his lips to her forehead. “I’m here.”

  “I know you are,” she choked out, lifting her arms around his neck. “You’re always here for me.”

  “Baby”—he held her tighter—“don’t you know I always will be?”

  She pulled away and wiped her eyes. He looked tired, his dark hair damp and askew. She saw worry etched in his brow. Love shining in his eyes. A single drop of water hung from his impossibly long lashes.

  She reached up to wipe the water from his face. “I love you.”

  Blake’s eyes flared. “I love you.”

  In a swoop of passion he lowered his face and kissed her. A long, unrelenting kiss that was filled with yearning and desire. One that forgave the past and promised a bright future. Carson stood waist deep in the water in Blake’s arms and kissed him with all her heart, not caring who saw.

  When he loosened his arms and the water flowed in the space between them, he glanced over his shoulder. People clustered at the shore, waiting for them. “We have an audience.” He chuckled low.

  “Let them watch.” Carson stepped back and washed her face with water. “They think I’m crazy already.”

  “Maybe not crazy.”

  She slanted a look his way, daring him to continue.

  “Unique. And mine.”

  “I’ll take that.”

  Blake held out his hand.

  Carson took it but stayed still, holding him back as he began to walk. He turned to her, his expression quizzical.

  “There’s something else I’d like to talk to you about. Alone.”

  “Sure.” Again he searched her face. Then turning, he guided her through the thick, sucking pluff mud back to the ramp, where the truck was already loaded and locked and the engine was running.

  Blake said farewell to his team while Carson hugged the family and told them they’d meet them at the house later. Alone, she and Blake walked to a bench along the waterway. They swept away a layer of sand and dirt and sat side by side, holding hands.

  “We have our best chats on park benches,” she told him.

  “Except Hobbs should be here.”

  “How is the old dog?”

  “He misses you.”

  “Tell him I’m getting him a big ol’ chew toy.”

  Carson looked at their joined hands and composed herself. Then, placing her free hand on top of their joined ones, she looked up to meet his expectant gaze.

  “I got a job offer.”

  His gaze sharpened.

  “As a stills photographer for a film. In LA.”

  Blake went very still but his face reflected shock and confusion and, she hated to see, worry.

  “But you just said . . .”

  “That I love you. I do.”

  “Then why are you running away again?”

  “I’m not running away. Not this time. I’m going toward something.” Carson reached up to stroke away a fallen curl from his forehead. “You.”

  His brow was troubled. “I don’t understand.”

  “Blake . . .” She paused, then looked into his eyes. “I’m not going to take the job. I’ll be honest. When I woke up this morning, I thought I would be telling you that I was. You know I’ve been floundering. The miscarriage was only part of it. I’ve been adrift all summer. When I got the job, I was thrilled. Relieved. It’s been a long time since I had any work in my field. I thought I had to take this job. I need it, God knows. Not only because of the money. But to rebuild my reputation. My career. My self-esteem.”

  “But you’re not taking it?”

  “No. I don’t want to be alone. I’m not afraid anymore.”

  “What about that thing about needing to swim alone? The shark?”

  “When I released Delphine, it was like once again she chased the shark away.” It was one of those things Carson understood instinctively but found hard to put to words. “Today, out in the Cove,” she tried to explain, “when Delphine looked at me, I didn’t see forgiveness. For her, the past was already forgotten. Delphine lives in the moment. All I saw in her eyes was love. Acceptance. And joy. She was so happy to be back home. She showed me what release meant. Watching her, I felt a release from my past. My fears.”

  Blake was listening, not interrupting her.

  Carson smiled. “I don’t want to push you away anymore. I want to stay here. With you. Where I belong.”

  Blake exhaled a long plume of air. He looked at her hand and played with her fingers, deep in thought. After a bit, he turned his head and looked at her. “I am glad that you got the job offer. A film. That’s big.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m proud of you.”

  “Thank you. I’ll find something else.” She smirked. “Someday.”

  Blake lifted his arm to lay it over her shoulder and draw her closer to his chest. “You should take the film offer.”

  “What? But I thought you’d be happy I’m staying.”

  “Of course I am. I want you to stay. But you’ve earned that job offer. And I think you’re right. You should take it for all the reasons you listed. But . . .” he looked at her. “How long this time?”

  Carson sat straight, staring back at him in earnest. “Not long. Maybe four months.”

  “You will come back? In four months.”

  She took a breath, not quite believing where this conversation was heading. “Yes. I promise. I’ll rent a place by the month. Nothing permanent. Then I’ll hop on a plane and come right back home. To you. If you’ll wait.” She paused. “Are you sure you’ll wait?”

  “I’ll wait.” A smile was in his voice even as he sighed deeply.

  Carson closed her eyes. “Thank you.”

  “If . . .”

  Her eyes flashed open and she looked at him under a raised brow. “If what?”

  “If you’ll marry me when you return.”

  “Marry you!” she exclaimed. She hadn’t seen this coming. “Are you kidding?”

  “Nope. I figure this is my best chance for you to say yes.”

  Carson stared back at him, momentarily stunned. The past summer flashed in her mind. Months of connection, of healing, and of release. Throughout the turbule
nt days Blake had weathered the storms, never wavering, steadfast in his love for her. This was love one could build a future on.

  Her lips curved and she shrugged. “You might be right. I’d better say yes.”

  Blake’s eyes widened as he broke into smile. “You said yes?”

  “I said yes.”

  Blake swooped to kiss her again, sealing the promise.

  She snuggled deeper in his arms, listened to his heartbeat as they held each other tight, neither wanting to let go.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Well, that’s it!” Mamaw exclaimed, clasping her hands together. “Sea Breeze is now officially yours.”

  Harper’s chest constricted as she looked at her signature on the deed. There, on the bottom of the real estate deed, was her name written in her tight vertical script: Harper Muir-James. She’d done it. Or rather, Granny James had done it. With some careful manipulating and planning, she’d managed for Harper to buy Sea Breeze. It felt unreal. As if she were floating in some dream and someone would soon wake her up.

  But it was real, she thought with amazement as she looked around in a daze at the smiling faces sitting around the long, polished dining-room table at Sea Breeze. So many people were impacted by this one decision. Taylor, of course. Carson and Blake. Dora and Devlin.

  Most of all, her grandmothers. Mamaw and Granny James. She stood between them and looked from one to the other. How lucky she was to have these two remarkable women as role models in her life.

  This was a shared joy. Everyone was smiling. Harper brought a trembling hand to her mouth. With one signature she’d succeeded in bringing joy to all the people she loved most in the world.

  Taylor came to her side, put his hands on her shoulders, and bent to kiss her mouth. His lips were warm and firm. Possessive. “Congratulations, honey. I know this was important to you.”

  She looked in his eyes with a wry smile. “I know you’d be just as happy living on the Miss Jenny.”

  “Oh, I reckon I could get used to Sea Breeze. After we’re married.”

  The resounding sound of a champagne cork’s popping drew everyone’s attention.

  “This is cause for celebration!” Devlin called out as he filled the glasses on the tray. The bubbles rose in the flutes and overflowed the rims.

  “Good man,” Granny James exclaimed.

  “Careful, Dev,” Dora cried, rushing to assist.

  “There’s plenty more where that came from,” Devlin said, chuckling.

  “What are you so happy about?” Carson teased him. “You lost your commission.”

  “You kidding?” He handed her a glass. “I live for days like this. I just gained some great new neighbors!”

  Dora stepped forward to pass the tray of champagne glasses. Taylor grabbed two and handed Harper a glass. They raised their glasses and shared a look of promise. Before she sipped, Harper caught a glimpse of Mamaw and Granny James, standing together by the silk-lined window. Mamaw was in a brilliant blue dress that matched the unmistakable blue color of her eyes. Granny James was wearing her navy suit with the crisp piping. They looked quite smart together. Quite conspiratorial, Harper thought happily as she watched them raise their glasses to each other in a silent toast, clink glasses, and, smiling, sip the champagne.

  She brought her champagne flute to her lips, felt the bubbles tickle her nose, smelled the sweet, yeasty scent of it. The scent of joy and grace and celebration.

  She looked at the man standing beside her, broad shouldered and as solid as the granite of his features. Her future husband. Taylor would, she knew, always stand at her side, fixed and unyielding in his love for her, in his protection of her and the children that she hoped would come. She smiled, observing his tanned skin, his pelt of brown hair, longer now and streaked by the sun. He was her lowcountry man, as much a part of this place she now called home as the salt of the air, the pungent scent of the pluff mud, the shrimp that he fished, the traditions, the values. He was her home.

  As were her sisters, she thought, looking at the smiling faces of Carson and Dora.

  Harper took a deep breath. She was the mistress of Sea Breeze now. She would tend the house with a loving hand, protect it from the storms that would come, plant seeds there, and watch them grow. Sea Breeze would always be a haven for her family. She would keep the light burning, as Mamaw had before her.

  As she raised her glass, the room silenced. All eyes fell on her. This was her moment. “To family.” Harper’s voice rang clear. “To Sea Breeze.”

  After everyone drank the wine, Harper looked at her watch. “We need to hurry, Granny James, or you’ll miss your plane!”

  With the usual commotion of hugs and farewells, Granny James, Mamaw, and Harper hurried out to the front of the house, where a hired car was waiting with the engine running.

  Granny James clasped her hands and blinked rapidly, seemingly reluctant to go. She looked at the cottage with yearning. “I should make a final walk through the cottage to make sure I have everything.”

  “You’ve already checked it twice.” Mamaw linked arms with her. “If you’ve forgotten anything, I’ll mail it to you.”

  “No, don’t trouble yourself. I’ll come back for it.” Granny James gave a quick smile.

  “Please do.” Mamaw gave her a kiss on the cheek, then released her arm and turned back to the house, giving Granny James and Harper a moment of privacy.

  “I can never thank you enough,” Harper told her, “for all you did.”

  “No thanks necessary. I did it simply because I love you.”

  “I wish my mother felt the same way.”

  Granny James looked into Harper’s eyes with sincerity. “Georgiana does love you, as difficult as it might be to believe sometimes.”

  “I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me for buying Sea Breeze. Or you, for that matter.”

  Granny James released a short laugh. “Of course she will. Who else does she have to call and natter?”

  “Or that I’ve written a novel. Do you think I should send it to her? Along with my wedding invitation?”

  Granny James feigned a scolding glance. “One at a time, darling. Rome wasn’t built in a day.” She leaned forward to place a kiss on Harper’s cheek. “I’ll call her. Explain how things are. I’m her mother. I still hold some sway. Even over Georgiana.”

  “I’ll miss you, Granny James.”

  “And I you.” She cast a final sweeping gaze around the property. “And I shall miss Sea Breeze.”

  “Come back soon.”

  “I intend to!” Granny James said with her usual spirit. “With that strapping young man you’re going to marry, I expect there will be great-grandbabies coming.”

  “Granny . . .” Harper laughed.

  “I’m serious! I’m not getting any younger.” She clapped her hands. “Chop chop!”

  The following morning Harper rose from her bed and tiptoed to the sliding door that divided her room from Mamaw’s. The door rattled along the frame as she pushed it open.

  Mamaw was wide-awake, propped up against pillows in her enormous four-poster bed. “There you are! I was just thinking of you.”

  Harper felt a flutter of happiness as she scurried across the room to join her grandmother in the four-poster. Soon she was leaning against the pillows beside Mamaw. She kicked her legs under the blanket, stretching them out. This was the second time in as many weeks they’d had a private tête-à-tête. She hoped there would be many more.

  Harper closed her eyes and was enveloped in a scent of exotic woods and spices, slightly oriental. “Mmm,” she sighed. “I love your perfume. I always think of this as your scent. I tried it on me.” She scrunched her nose. “It didn’t smell at all good. It smells yummy on Carson.” She sighed. “Of course.”

  Mamaw laughed. “Why of course?”

  “Because she’s so much like you. She’s tall, beautiful . . .”

  “You’re every bit as beautiful. You have your own unique beauty. As does Dora. It’s r
ather like perfume, you see. Each of you has your own distinct scent. Quality perfumes never compete.”

  “I don’t have my own scent.”

  “Then let’s find you one. I should think”—Mamaw tapped her cheek—“you would do well with Joy. Another French perfume, very good. It’s sweeter, more floral, but with very deep base notes. And very fussy about who can wear it.”

  Harper’s thoughts moved back to Carson. “She’s really going to Los Angeles?”

  “Yes,” Mamaw said brightly without a hint of worry. “She’s moving forward. This is a good thing, Harper. She has to see this cycle through. To come full circle. As you did.”

  “Me?” Harper asked, surprised by the comment.

  “Yes. You found yourself this summer. You’ve written a book!”

  “I have,” Harper said with self-satisfaction.

  “What are your plans for it?”

  “First I’m going to get an agent. I know several good ones that I like very much. I’m sure they’ll at least give it a read. And, hopefully, it will sell.”

  “Oh, it will,” Mamaw said with certainty. “It’s very good.”

  “You’re my grandmother. Of course you love it.”

  “Not true! I wasn’t a fan of your father’s book. I suppose you think that’s wicked for his mother to say?”

  Harper shook her head. “No. Just an honest critique.”

  “Your book is wonderful. It will sell. You’ll see. I’m never wrong about such things. And Dora is well on her way. I like Devlin. He’s ever so much better than Calhoun Tucker. That man’s not worth the salt in his bread.”

  “And Carson?”

  Mamaw thought for a moment. “Carson will do just fine.”

  “Will she come back?”

  “I hope so,” Mamaw said pensively. Then she smiled. “I believe so. This is her home.”

  “And it’s yours.” Harper turned her head to look at Mamaw against the pillows. “It will always be yours. My buying Sea Breeze changes nothing.”

  “Why, it changes everything! This will be a family house again, with young children running through the rooms, as it was meant to be. It’s time for the old to move on. To make way for the young.”

 

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