Shore Feels Right

by Annette Mardis

  Kelsey slid her mask into position and submerged for a few minutes while she looked the animal over.

  “Okay, this is a female,” she told Flipper when she surfaced. He recorded that information on an underwater scuba slate.

  “How can you tell?” Truman asked.

  “Males have two slits on the underside of their peduncle—that’s this muscular section between the dorsal fin and tail flukes—while females have three,” Kelsey explained. “Male short-finned pilot whales also are longer and heavier than the females, and they have a much larger dorsal fin.”

  Evan photographed the flukes and dorsal fin for identification purposes and told Flipper the frame numbers so he’d know which pictures went with which whale. When it was time for the group to move to the next animal, Flipper asked Monica to accompany them. Truman started to follow, but the trainer stopped him with a hand on his arm.

  “It would be a great help if you’d stay with this one, keep her calm and wet, until someone comes to tag her.”

  “Uh, yeah, sure. No problem.” Truman stared as Monica trudged off with the others.

  “Thanks, Flipper,” she said as soon as they were out of earshot. “He’s been glued to me since we got out here.”

  “I figured as much. You looked like you could use a break.”

  Kelsey gave Monica a speculative look. “A lot of women wouldn’t mind a guy like that breathing down their neck.”

  “They can have him.” She narrowed her eyes when Kelsey and Flipper made a face at each other. “What?”

  “Oh, nothing,” Kelsey replied.

  “Come on, out with it.”

  “Kind of ironic saying ‘out’ to a lesbian,” Flipper observed. He put his hand to his mouth to hide his grin when Monica’s eyes widened as she realized what she’d said.

  “Hey, I didn’t mean—”

  “Don’t listen to this troublemaker,” Kelsey interrupted. She backhanded him on the shoulder.

  “Ow, that hurt.” He yelped again when Monica whacked him, too. “Hey, no fair ganging up on me.”

  The two women shared a smile but quickly sobered when they heard the next whale laboring to breathe.

  “Damn it!” Kelsey dropped to her knees beside the animal. “I hate this.”

  “Yeah, sometimes this job really sucks,” Flipper agreed.

  Monica nodded sadly and stroked the dying whale. There was nothing anyone could do to save it at this point, and the rescuers’ helplessness made that reality more difficult to bear. Two other veterinarians confirmed Kelsey’s prognosis, and Monica wiped away tears as they euthanized the poor creature. Truman had joined them by then and slung his arm around her, but she stiffened and shrugged it off.

  Flipper helped drag the carcass up onto the beach so it could be hauled away with the other two for necropsies.

  Finally, all the whales had been evaluated and, after much discussion, officials decided to enlist volunteers to help herd the healthy ones back out to the Gulf. Wesley’s group received the okay to take a mother, her calf, and another adult female back to GSA. He and Jarvis set off to rent a cargo truck and to buy supplies including air mattresses, to keep pressure off the whales’ vital organs during transport, and pesticide sprayers to fill with saltwater and moisten their sensitive skin.

  “I know most of you probably have to ride back with the whales, but anybody who doesn’t is welcome to fly back with me,” Truman invited. Though he addressed the group, he focused on Monica.

  “I really appreciate the offer,” she told him, “but I need to go with the whales.”

  “It’s going to be a long, uncomfortable ride back,” he pointed out. As if that would change her mind.

  “It won’t be the first time.”

  “Wes will probably want to drive the truck back, so I guess I’m going solo.” Truman pouted a little, but Monica ignored him. Instead, she returned to the water with Kelsey, Flipper, and Evan to sit with the whales. Truman headed to the van to fetch bottled water to pass out to any rescuer who needed it. The GSA team members were the only ones with any idea the man owned a chalet in Aspen, Colorado, a villa in Italy, a penthouse apartment in New York City, and the nationwide supermarket chain his grandfather founded.

  Chapter 23

  The sun had become a memory by the time they loaded the whale trio in the truck and hit the road. Already weary, they had a long night still ahead of them. Evan had filled his cameras’ memory cards with still photos and video, and he posted to social media and the aquarium Web site before they left Naples. He continued to shoot while the truck rolled north up Interstate 75. The ride was far from smooth for those in the back of the truck, but they knew their discomfort paled compared to what the whales must feel.

  The two adults were average size for females—about twelve feet—and the male calf had grown to seven feet long. At birth, he would’ve measured about six feet and weighed two hundred twenty-five pounds. His mother had carried him for at least a year and would nurse him for almost two years, if they both lived that long.

  In addition to suffering from whatever had sickened the two females, the baby likely hadn’t eaten in a while. The team had brought along dolphin formula, and Kelsey tried in vain to get him to accept a bottle.

  “He’s pretty malnourished,” she told Flipper. “We’ll have to tube feed him for now. First, though, let’s hydrate all three of them with Pedialyte.” She turned to Monica, Jarvis, and Evan. “I’ll need you guys to help hold them still while we do this.”

  Taking great care, Flipper and Kelsey inserted a rubber tube down each animal’s throat to its stomach and poured the liquid into a funnel attached to the other end of the tube. In their weakened state, the adult pilots didn’t fight them, much, but the baby put up quite a struggle, which surprised and encouraged his rescuers.

  “It’s all right, sweetie, you’re going to be okay,” Monica cooed. “I know you’re scared, but we’re just trying to help. Everything’s going to be just fine.”

  She and Jarvis also had the task of wetting down the whales with the lawn sprayers. Flipper helped Kelsey collect blood and other samples to analyze at the aquarium’s lab.

  Finally, they pulled up outside Gulf Shore’s rehab wing, where staff and volunteers assigned to the whales’ care had gathered. Other personnel staked out the viewing windows to catch a glimpse of the new arrivals.

  As luck would have it, Trident, the orphaned dolphin calf, had been scheduled to be released from rehab in a few days and transferred to Dolphin Inlet, where he’d take up permanent residence. So the staff went ahead and moved Trident to a private back pool there while the whales were en route to GSA to eliminate the chance he could catch whatever malady afflicted them.

  Treatment protocols mandated the whales be kept in strict quarantine. That meant any items used for their care, as well as anything worn by people who came in contact with them, had to be kept far away from GSA’s other animals, especially the dolphins.

  While a fresh crew carried the whales on canvas slings to the critical care unit, Monica took a few minutes to call Cosby and fill him in on what had happened in Naples.

  Wesley ordered pizzas to feed his returning crew, and they pounced on the food like a pack of wolves as soon as he walked in with it. Truman showed up a few minutes later carrying the cooler filled with water and energy drinks he’d ferried back on his plane.

  Monica wondered how long he’d hang around but otherwise paid him as little attention as possible. Unfortunately for her, that didn’t work both ways. Truman kept trying to catch her eye, and when she slipped into the water to help support one of the female whales, he crowded in right next to her. Wesley shook his head as he looked on.

  Around two the next afternoon, Monica’s restless naps on a narrow cot, her lack of a wholesome sit-down meal, and the stress of worrying about the whales finally caught up to her. Her caffeine high had long since worn off, and she couldn’t stomach yet another cup of coffee. Not convinced she could keep her eyes open long
enough to drive home, she called Cosby and asked him to pick her up. He arrived within ten minutes.

  She slumped in his passenger seat and fell asleep, stirring only briefly when he carried her inside her apartment. She wore clean clothes, having taken a quick shower at work, so he laid her on her bed. Then he covered her with a fleece throw, kissed her forehead, breathed in her scent one last time, and slipped out of the apartment.

  * * * *

  Monica called Cosby around seven the next morning to invite him over for breakfast before he dropped her off at work. When she answered her front door, he took her in his arms for a long kiss. He started to dive back in for another one, but she stopped him with a hand to his chest.

  “I’ve got food on the stove. Let’s not start the day by setting my apartment on fire.”

  “You’ve already set me on fire.” He grabbed for her retreating rear end. She dodged his searching hands and made it back to the stove just in time to keep the scrambled eggs from burning.

  He came up behind her and kissed the back of her neck. “What can I do to help?”

  “How about making toast? I only have whole wheat, so I hope that’s okay.”

  Happy just to be with her again, Cosby didn’t care what he ate. He stuck the bread into the toaster, poured them both a cup of orange juice, spread butter and jelly on the toast when it was done, and snatched two slices of bacon from the covered plate on the counter.

  After they ate and cleaned up the kitchen, he pulled her close, and they settled into a leisurely kiss.

  “Thanks for breakfast,” he said against her lips.

  “Thanks for playing taxi.”

  “I’m glad you called. You were dead on your feet.”

  “Today’s going to be another long day.”

  “Will you be late again?”

  “Probably. Somebody has to be with the whales at all times, and with three of them we obviously need three times the resources.”

  “I don’t know if you let outsiders get involved, but if you need an extra pair of hands, I’m available.”

  “Usually you have to be a trained staff member, intern or volunteer to participate in animal care, but these might be special circumstances. Let me ask and I’ll give you a call.”

  When they arrived at the aquarium, Monica brought him inside so he could see the whales through the rehab viewing window. Dani and her friend Shelby Dean, an education department volunteer, were among those already in the water. As usual, Evan busied himself recording the scene. None of them could see the spectators through the one-way glass. It had been installed so onlookers wouldn’t disturb the animals, which needed to recuperate in a quiet, calm atmosphere, and also to limit their interactions with people.

  Cosby saw Monica’s eyes narrow as she looked in the direction of a tall, dark-haired man who resembled Tom Selleck without the mustache. He stood talking to Wesley as though he belonged there.

  “Who’s that?” Cosby pointed. “He looks familiar, like a movie star or something.”

  “He’s nobody,” Monica replied. “Just a friend of Wesley’s.”

  “Did he go with your group to Naples?”

  “Yeah. He flew the plane.”

  Cosby wanted to ask her more questions, but she told him she needed to get to work, gave him a quick kiss, and walked away. As he stood there a bit longer, he wondered why the man’s presence seemed to make Monica uneasy. Cosby couldn’t blame her. Something about the guy rubbed him the wrong way.

  * * * *

  Monica received permission for her boyfriend to participate in the whales’ care because one member of the rehab staff was on vacation and another was out sick. Before Cosby showed up that evening, she kept sneaking looks at the two doors leading into the rehab facility.

  “What time’s he supposed to be here?” Flipper asked.

  “I don’t know if he’s even coming,” Monica replied. “I haven’t seen him all day.”

  “I thought you said he’d be here around seven.”

  “Who?”

  “Cosby, remember him? Or are you wishing for someone else, say a certain billionaire with a mad crush on you?”

  “You’re right. I’d hoped Truman would be here, but not for the reason you probably think.”

  “Why then?”

  “Because I want him to see me with Cosby. Maybe that’ll finally discourage him. Nothing else has.”

  “Did you tell Cosby about your new admirer?” Flipper inquired.

  “No. I didn’t see any reason to.”

  “It might piss him off to find out Truman’s been welded to your hip since you two met.”

  “That’s exactly what I want to avoid. Cosby’s got nothing to worry about. I’ve done nothing to encourage Truman. I’ve merely been polite to my boss’ buddy, just as everyone else has. And aside from the unwanted attention, he hasn’t crossed the line into improper behavior, so I don’t want to be rude and piss off him and Wesley. I just wish he’d leave me alone. I mean, I don’t know what Truman wants from me.”

  “Sure you do.”

  “No, I…okay, yeah, I do. But I’m not a model, an actress, or a socialite. He’s used to dating those kinds of women, not someone like me.”

  “Maybe that’s the attraction. You’re different. Approachable.”

  “That’s possible, I guess, but there’s something else going on here that I can’t quite put my finger on.”

  “You know, Monica, a lot of ladies would give anything for a second look from a guy like that. Yet, you claim you’re not interested? Why not?”

  “Well, for one thing, I’m not the shallow person you obviously still think I am.”

  “Now don’t get indignant. It’s a fair question.”

  Monica huffed out a breath to calm herself. “Do you like it when people make assumptions about who you are based on your appearance and things you’ve said or done in the past? I mean, you’ve got this reputation as a ladies’ man, but you haven’t gone on a date in more than two months.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I overheard Dani defending you when someone who shall remain nameless accused you of being a total horn-dog.”

  “Damn it, Dani,” Flipper swore under his breath.

  “So tell me, why is it okay for a guy to have that reputation, but a woman has a few bad relationships and she’s branded as some sort of Lolita.” Monica put her hands on her hips and challenged him with a look.

  “A few bad relationships?” Flipper laughed without humor. “Honey, that’s like saying Hurricane Katrina was just a bad storm.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Okay, that’s an exaggeration, but you get my point.”

  “I do, but you know what? For months, I’ve apologized and beat myself up about everything that’s happened, and I’ve finally had enough. I’m ready to move on. If people don’t want to let me do that, then that’s their problem.”

  “So I’m supposed to just forget what you did to Evan and how you came on to me in the trainer’s office after Tanner dumped you?”

  Monica’s face reddened. “Evan’s forgiven me; why can’t you?”

  They stared at each other until Flipper finally blinked first.

  “You know what? Life’s too short to hold a grudge. As long as you behave yourself, I’m willing to wipe the slate clean and start over.”

  Yeah, right, she thought. “Do you really mean that, or are you just humoring me so I’ll shut up?”

  “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. How about a hug to seal the deal?”

  Wary, she hesitated for a moment, then allowed him to embrace her. It felt awkward, but it was the sentiment that counted, right? As they pulled apart, she saw Cosby walking toward them, his brow furrowed.

  “Hey, dude, good to see you again.” Flipper held out his hand, and Cosby looked at Monica, then back at the trainer before accepting the handshake. “Don’t worry, I’m not making a move on your girl. She and I just came to an understanding, that’s all.”
/>   “What kind of an understanding?” Cosby asked.

  “To let bygones be bygones.”

  When Cosby looked puzzled, Monica promised to explain later.

  Another uneasy moment passed before Flipper changed the subject. “Hey, man, do you play poker? I’m having a party as soon as things slow down here, and I’d really like you both to come.”

  “If Monica wants to go, that sounds like fun,” Cosby replied. “I haven’t played in a while, though, so I might be rusty.”

  “All the better.” Flipper slapped him on the shoulder. “I’ve got to take my turn in the water. Thanks a ton for helping us out. It’ll be an experience you won’t soon forget.”

  As the trainer walked away, Monica treated Cosby to a brief kiss and a big smile.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” she told him.

  “Me, too. How are the whales today?”

  “It’s always touch-and-go this early, but they’re holding their own. All three have a parasitic infestation, so we put them on medication. The mama and calf have been swimming a little bit on their own, but the other girl’s still pretty lethargic. She’s older, and it may take her longer to respond to treatment. Come see them.”

  Monica led him to the pool’s edge and introduced him to her boss, who’d been with the patients for a few hours and needed a break. Jarvis looked the other man over as if he had a right to an opinion about who she dated.

  “So you’re the new boyfriend.”

  “That’s me,” Cosby replied.

  Monica slung her arm around him. “Isn’t it great he’s volunteered to help with the whales?”

  “Uh, yeah. Thanks.” Jarvis’ flat tone and condescending attitude irritated Monica, but she held her tongue. For the moment, anyway. He climbed out of the pool and, with a last glare at Cosby, walked away.

  “What in the world was that about?” Cosby asked.

  “I have no idea. But I’m going to find out.” Monica turned to follow her boss, but Cosby caught her hand and gently tugged her back.

  “Don’t get yourself in trouble on my account.”