The Summer Girls

by Mary Alice Monroe

  Something indescribable happened to her when she stared into the blue depths of the ocean. She could feel her anxiety slowly drain from her body. It was akin to pushing a delete button on the litany of worries she’d stored in her brain. Before long her breathing matched the rise and fall of the gentle waves. Her thoughts grew calm and rational.

  The sea was, she knew, home to countless living creatures. Small fish darted between the safety of the pilings, nibbling algae. Along the shoreline the black, pointed tips of the oysters, one on top of the other, formed a dangerously delicious, barbed bed. Staring at the sandy bottom of the cove, she wondered if she’d imagined the dark shadow.

  Carson wrapped her arms around her chest and chewed her lip in thought. How long would she stand trembling at the edge?

  She remembered Mamaw’s words to her. You’re the strongest girl I know. She recalled the brazenly bold, self-assured look of her ancestor, Claire, in the portrait. Finally, Carson thought of her mother, and the courage it had taken for the young woman to travel alone to America to start a new life.

  She had to find that courage within herself again. Sure, she was still scared of the dark shadows in the water. She’d be a fool if she wasn’t. But this sea was her territory, too. Over five hundred million years ago we all called the sea home. Our bond to the ocean was personal. The connection flowed in her memory, deeper than her mother’s milk.

  Standing on the dock, Carson shook her legs, feeling the blood flow. She felt the sun on her face as she lifted her arms over her head, then marked a spot in the water. She took a gulp of air, that one act defining the major evolutionary difference between her and the fish in the sea. Yet it was that same need for air that bonded her with dolphins. Carson dove into the water. The cool liquid enveloped her, welcoming her.

  Home, she thought as her arms stretched wide and her mouth released a stream of bubbles. Kicking hard, she burst to the surface, gasping for air. Drops of water ran down her smiling face as she thrust her arms forward and kicked again, hard. One stroke after another, she swam without pause against the current, heady with triumph. She swam straight to Mr. Bellows’s dock and rested, feeling her arms tired after so many days without exercise. I made it, she thought exultantly. She looked at the Sea Breeze dock, marking it, gauging the distance. Now to return.

  Pushing off, she began her swim back. She took it at a more leisurely pace, enjoying the sensation of stretching her arms as far forward as she could, feeling the sun on her face. She imagined Delphine swimming with her, saw her eyes eager and bright, curious about what adventure was next. She felt the dolphin’s energy radiating through her. These waters held memories, Carson realized, and in that shining moment she knew that Delphine would always be with her.

  As she drew closer to the dock, she saw Blake standing, waiting, his hands on his hips. He bent to offer his hand to help her up. The hurt and anger she’d felt had dissolved as another part of her—the stronger, more confident part—welcomed the sight of him. There was no room in her heart for petty peevishness. She reached for his hand and felt his strong fingers close around hers.

  Blake wrapped a towel around her shoulders, then stood a polite distance back, no doubt still tentative after her flare-up.

  “Can we talk about this?” he asked. “Please, Carson. This is too important.”

  “Yes, of course,” she replied, her tone conciliatory. She began rubbing her body with the towel. “I’m sorry about my outburst earlier. I’m still tender when it comes to Delphine. But what’s left to discuss? You just told me that it’s all been decided already.” She paused, breathing in slowly. “That they’re moving Delphine to a facility.”

  “No, that’s not what I said,” he answered, enunciating clearly. “I said Delphine is not doing well. They are considering putting her in a facility.”

  “And without an ID of her being part of our resident community, that was likely to happen anyway,” Carson added succinctly. She sighed and tightened the towel around herself, feeling a wave of dejection. “What’s the difference?”

  “There is a difference and it’s what I want you to understand.” Blake shifted his weight, put his hands on his hips, a move Carson recognized now as indicating he’d given the matter a lot of thought and was about to explain himself. “The place Delphine is slated for is very unique. It’s located in the Florida Keys and has natural lagoons with the sea flowing in and out. She’ll still be in the Atlantic Ocean, her home. It’s not a cement pond. And they’ll be introducing her to their pod family. They know what they’re doing. Delphine will be welcomed by a devoted staff and eventually by the dolphins, too. If she goes there, she’ll belong to a new family. I’ve seen it happen with other dolphins.”

  The thought of Delphine being welcomed into a family of dolphins took the steam from her sails. It was so like Blake to listen to her concerns, to offer intelligent answers. His reaction was quiet, subtle, and persuasive. She slumped down onto the dock, folded her legs close and wrapped herself tight in the towel. She stared out at the cove that still felt so empty without Delphine.

  Blake moved to sit beside Carson. All was silent save for the soft rumble of thunder as the storm clouds drew closer. Choppy gray-green waves slapped against the docks.

  “I thought you were against dolphins in captivity?” she asked him in a small voice, striving to be fair and realistic.

  Blake seemed to appreciate her effort, understanding at last that, to her, this was not black and white; this was an issue layered with complicated emotions. “If you ask me if I’m opposed to dolphins being captured from the wild, I’d unequivocally say that yes, I’m opposed. No wild dolphin should be removed from its natural habitat for any reason. Not ever. On the other hand, the fact is there are aquariums and facilities that provide a place where injured, nonreleasable dolphins can live out their days, well cared for and loved. These dolphins would likely end up shark bait or starve if released.” He paused. “The Dolphin Research Center is such a place. This is where they will send Delphine, if they deem her nonreleasable.”

  A gust of cooler wind sent the spray from a wave sprinkling over them. She shivered and her teeth began to chatter.

  Blake’s brows furrowed and he reached to put his arm around her shoulders. She resisted marginally but he murmured her name softly and pulled her closer. Carson felt the strength of his arms and relaxed against him, felt his arms slide around her, holding her tight. She breathed deeply, smelling the faint scent of his body in the well-worn shirt. He didn’t speak and instead rested his chin on the soft hairs of her head.

  She reached up to tuck her hair behind an ear. “I’ve been thinking and thinking . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  “Thinking about what?”

  “It’s like I’m putting the pieces of a puzzle together, a puzzle that’s baffled me for years. It’s beginning to make sense to me now.” She paused. “The fact that I’m always avoiding relationships, never counting on anyone or anything to come through, running from commitments—it might not have been something I was aware of consciously, but looking back, how else can I explain it? I didn’t even want to own a condo, for God’s sake. I’ve always had this . . .” She groped for the word. “. . . this compulsion to be unfettered, to be free from anything or anyone that could tie me down.”

  She took a breath. “Until Delphine. This summer, for the first time, I’ve formed a real attachment to, of all things, a dolphin.” She laughed, still amazed at the miracle that she’d experienced. “She changed me. There’s no other way to explain it. I don’t know how to make you understand. All my life I’ve kept so much at bay—my emotions, the people I care about, my responsibilities. With Delphine I couldn’t do that. To communicate with her, I had to move from the inside out.” She shook her head.

  “I couldn’t fool her. I couldn’t come to the water angry or sad. She forced me to raise my vibrations; she made me happy.” Carson groaned and put her face in her hands. “I feel embarrassed saying these things to you. You mus
t think I’m some woo-woo chick from L.A.” She dropped her hands and looked into his eyes. “But it’s true. And I’m not prepared to face life without Delphine in it right now.”

  “I know.”

  Carson sat up again to face him. “I feel like I’m abandoning her. All I’ve ever done is abandon things—jobs, relationships.” She shook her head. “I won’t do it. Blake, you know that is a cardinal sin in my book.”

  “She is not being abandoned, Carson,” Blake said, pleading with her to understand. “Quite the contrary. They’re eager to have her. And it wasn’t like you had a hand in the decision. She was hurt, and you helped save her life.”

  “Can you explain that to her?” Carson asked. “In a way she can understand? You can’t,” she answered for him. “Just as you can’t understand what I’m feeling. You see dolphins as fascinating, intelligent creatures. But you stop there. You won’t even consider the possibility that dolphins and humans can connect in a very real way that’s not scientific. It’s something I feel in my heart, not my head. I don’t have studies to share with you. But I know our bond is there. I know it.”

  “But I don’t doubt you shared a bond,” Blake replied. He held her gaze. “I believe you.”

  Carson sighed, relieved that at last he validated her feelings.

  “You’re shivering,” Blake said. “We should go.”

  “You’re right,” Carson replied, coming to a decision that had been forming in her mind since Delphine was first taken away. “I should go. To Florida. I need to see Delphine again. To see with my own eyes that she’s all right.”

  “Carson . . .”

  “If she’s depressed, she’ll be comforted to see me. She knows me. I might be able to help. I have to try.” She took Blake’s hand. “Can you help me with at least that much?”

  “You want to go to the Dolphin Research Center?”

  “No, I want to go to the hospital. To the Mote Marine Laboratory, where Delphine is now,” she replied.

  “Treatment may take weeks. Months.”

  “I’ll stay only as long as it takes her to turn the corner.”

  “Where will you stay? How can you afford it?”

  “I’ll get a job. Get a cheap place to stay. I know how to do that.”

  “You won’t gain access. Only the staff can see her.”

  “Then help me get a job there. Or an internship. Or a volunteer position. I’ll sweep the floors, scrub tanks, whatever they want. Anything that lets me in the door to see her.”

  He frowned. “You won’t sway their decision regarding the facility.”

  “That’s not my intention. I only want to see if I can help save Delphine. I think I owe her that much.”

  Thunder rumbled, closer now and louder.

  Blake looked out at the sky, his profile illuminated by a crack of lightning. “You’re asking me to help you leave,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “And then what?” he asked, turning to face her. “Now, I’m asking you. What about us?”

  The wind gusted and Carson felt filled with purpose. She reached out and took his other hand in hers and, holding tight, looked into his eyes.

  “I’m not going to lose us, either,” she answered. “Blake, I care about you. Deeply. I know we have something special. But I know in my heart if I let this go, if I don’t see for myself that she’s okay and make her understand that I’m not abandoning her, I’ll never be able to move on. I’ll just be running away again. Don’t you see? That’s what I do every time. I cut my losses and leave. But I’m trying to break that pattern. Only if I see this through with Delphine is there any hope for you and me.”

  He leaned forward so that their foreheads touched.

  “Just say you’ll come back.”

  “I’ll come back.”

  He moved his head to kiss her, slowly, possessively.

  A clap of thunder roared and echoed above them, warning them that the heart of the storm was overhead. Blake cupped his hands to frame her face, as though capturing her image, then rose and pulled Carson to her feet. Clasping hands, they ran down the dock to the shelter of Sea Breeze.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “You wanted to see me?”

  Mamaw looked up from the small gaily wrapped box she held in her lap. Carson stood by the door, her expression curious, perhaps a bit anxious at being called to Mamaw’s room. Carson was leaving for Florida the following morning. All day she had been a whirling dervish packing and preparing for the trip. The house was quiet now save for the murmurs of the girls out on the back porch and the clinking of ice in their glasses. Mamaw surveyed the young woman dressed in what she had come to accept were Carson’s pajamas—men’s boxers and an old T-shirt. Her long hair draped her shoulders like a black velvet shawl.

  “Yes, come in,” Mamaw replied, waving a hand to usher in Carson. Then she patted the chair beside hers.

  Carson smiled and joined Mamaw in the small sitting room that adjoined her bedroom. A small lamp with a blue-fringed shade spilled yellow light on the chintz fabric covering the table and the matching chairs. This was Mamaw’s favorite room, a perfect spot for a tête-à-tête. She idly let her fingers smooth the collar of her pale pink silk robe as she measured Carson’s steps toward her.

  Carson bent to kiss her grandmother’s cheek. “This is nice.”

  “I wanted to have a little chat before you leave,” Mamaw began.

  “I’m all packed and ready to go, just like the song,” Carson told her.

  Mamaw searched Carson’s face and saw the familiar signs of pending departure—the excitement in her eyes, the fission of energy radiating from her pores. Why were her loved ones always so eager to leave? The open road had never called to Mamaw. She’d never understood why anyone would want to leave the sultry winding creeks, the phenomenal sunsets, or the song of the surf in the lowcountry. There was more than enough culture in Charleston for even the most discriminating tastes. What the lure of foreign cities was, Mamaw was sure she didn’t know.

  Carson must have seen the anxiety in her face, because she leaned forward to place her hand over Mamaw’s. “I’ll be back soon. I promise. I’ll only be gone a few weeks. I know how important this summer is to you. I won’t disappoint you.”

  “Oh, child,” Mamaw said, patting Carson’s hand, “you’ve never disappointed me.”

  Carson looked at her askance. “Never? But I feel like I’ve just made a mess of things. Again.”

  “Never,” Mamaw replied firmly. She hated to see any sign of defeatism in her granddaughters. She was quick to ferret it out.

  “Quite the opposite. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Carson,” she began, looking squarely into her granddaughter’s eyes, wanting to be heard. “This has been a very difficult month for you. Yet you’ve weathered this emotional roller coaster of family secrets, confronted your drinking, shouldered the responsibility of this terrible accident with the dolphin, all with a grace and courage that not many women possess.”

  She paused to see Carson’s eyes widen with incredulity, and in that moment saw again the little girl who had come to live with her after the fire, her burned skin bandaged, her hair singed, and her blue eyes wide with a vulnerable hope that had made Mamaw’s heart go out to her.

  “I am very proud of you,” Mamaw said with emphasis, wanting the words to sink in.

  Carson shut her eyes for a moment and then opened them again. “I’m not sure I deserve that,” Carson said in a stumbling manner. “And as for my drinking, I’m just taking it day by day.”

  “That’s all any of us can do, my dear. We wake up, bolster our resolve, and rise to face the new day. Or else lie in bed and waste our lives.”

  Carson nodded her head, listening. “Now you sound like Blake,” she said. “He’s very, shall we say, optimistic.”

  “Oh?” Mamaw said, her ears instantly perked to any mention of a young gentleman caller. “How is that nice young man?”

  Carson’s smile was all knowing.
“He’s fine, Mamaw.”

  She waited but nothing more was forthcoming. Mamaw couldn’t help herself from continuing. “You’re still seeing him, then? After the incident with the dolphin?”

  “I think I’m on probation,” Carson replied with a light laugh.

  “How does he feel about you leaving?”

  “He’s not happy about it,” Carson replied honestly. “But he understands why I have to do this. He arranged for me to see Delphine. I could never have gained access if he hadn’t.”

  “I see. Well, he’s a very nice young man.”

  “You’ve already told me that, Mamaw,” Carson said with a gentle nudge. “Seriously, I do care for him. A great deal. More than I’ve cared for anyone before. And I’m quite certain he feels the same way. It’s like you said. We’re taking it day by day. Okay?”

  Mamaw tried to disguise her pleasure in this revelation by looking down at the package in her lap. “So,” Mamaw said in an upbeat tone, straightening in her chair and taking hold of the box. “I have a little gift for you.”

  “A gift? It’s not my birthday.”

  “I know very well it’s not your birthday, silly girl. And it’s not Christmas, Fourth of July, or Arbor Day.” She reached out to hand Carson the small box wrapped in shiny blue paper and a white ribbon. “Can’t a grandmother give her granddaughter a gift if she wants to? Open it!”

  Carson’s face eased into a smile of anticipation as she bent over the box and tidily unwrapped the ribbon, rolling it in a ball, then slowly undid the tape, careful not to tear the paper. Mamaw enjoyed watching her open the gift delicately, recalling once again Carson as a little girl. So unlike Harper, who ripped through the paper, shredding it and letting the bits scatter around her.

  Before opening the lid, Carson shook the box by her ear, eyes skyward in mock appraisal. “A bracelet, maybe? Or a brooch?”

  Mamaw didn’t reply and only lifted her brows, her hands tightening together as her own anticipation at Carson’s response mounted.