Linnea wasn’t a permitted member of the team, so she couldn’t do anything more. She took out her phone and dialed Emmi’s number. Emmi was the team leader. She answered on the second ring, and Linnea reported her discovery.
“Congratulations on finding your first nest this season,” Emmi told her.
“Hope’s first nest ever!”
“We’ll be right there.”
Now there was nothing for Linnea to do but wait for the team to arrive. Pushing the stroller, she idly followed the tracks back to the sea, noticing that this sea turtle must’ve had some barnacles on her undercarriage, judging by the pattern in the sand in the middle of her tracks.
In the distance she spotted a mother and daughter strolling along the shore in the early morning sun, gathering shells. The little girl, maybe five or six years old, was bent over inspecting a shell before racing to show it to her mother. When they drew near, the girl spotted the turtle tracks and, with a squeal of excitement, ran toward Linnea as her mother followed.
“Are those turtle tracks?” she asked, eyes as wide as the sun rising beyond her.
“Yes, they are.”
“Are you a turtle lady?”
Linnea was wearing the season’s T-shirt and ball cap, which made her a walking advertisement. “Yes, I am.”
The girl’s mother caught up to them, tote in tow. She had the wholesome prettiness of young mothers, freckles smattering her cheeks from the sun.
“Isn’t this exciting, Willa?” the girl’s mother asked her. She looked to Linnea. “Willa loves turtles. She reads books about them all the time,” she added proudly.
Linnea looked at the young girl. She had long brown hair and freckles, like her mother. Her eyes were full of wonder and curiosity. Linnea could recall being mad about sea turtles at Willa’s age. The summer she’d become a junior turtle team member was a memorable summer for all, it being the last summer of Lovie’s life. Linnea always felt a glow of satisfaction that before she died, her grandmother had known her granddaughter would follow in her footsteps.
The following summer, Aunt Cara had stepped in to lead the team and taken Linnea under her wing. Her parents had let Linnea live with Cara and Brett in Lovie’s beach house for the summer, kind of like camp. “Only better—Camp Beach House is free!” her daddy used to joke. At sixteen Linnea became an intern for Brett’s Coastal Ecotour boat and fell in love with the lowcountry’s other marine life as well. Brett had taught her how to drive a boat and follow the tides. He was a natural teacher and loved nothing more than sharing his knowledge of the sea and its inhabitants. Linnea’s love affair with the lowcountry’s wild places had grown as she did.
It was inevitable that all those summers on Isle of Palms would shape Linnea’s career path. She didn’t think it was too much of a stretch to say they’d changed her life. By the time she was eighteen and headed for college, she knew she would end up working in environmental science. Lovie and Aunt Cara and Brett had impressed upon her the importance of giving back and making a difference with her life.
She looked at the young girl and felt a responsibility to encourage her. To help her see that she had an important role to play.
“When will the eggs hatch?” Willa asked.
“The mama turtles are just laying the nests now,” Linnea explained. “It takes forty-five to sixty days to incubate. So the nests won’t start to hatch until sometime in July.”
Disappointment flooded their faces.
“But isn’t it exciting to see the tracks? You came to the island at an excellent time. You found a nest! Look up there,” she said, pointing out the dunes. “Last night a mama turtle crawled ashore and laid a nest there. I only just found the tracks. Do you know what kind of sea turtle laid this nest?”
Willa shook her head. Linnea looked at the mother. Her eyes were as wide as her daughter’s. Nature makes children of us all, Linnea thought.
“A loggerhead?” the mother replied with all the excitement of a prize student.
“That’s right. Let me show you the nest. Follow me.” Linnea walked them up to the nest, explaining the nesting saga on the way. She took her time showing them how the turtle reached the top of the dune, described how she dug down to deposit her eggs, then showed the sprinkled sand, explaining how the mother threw sand to hide the nest from predators. The body pit was well marked and allowed their imaginations to soar.
“If you wait here a little while longer, the team will be here to check out the nest and find the eggs.”
Willa bounced on her toes in excitement while her mother mouthed a heartfelt thank you to Linnea.
A short while later, Linnea spied Barb, a team member, coming up the path with her camera hanging from her neck. Behind her Emmi and the other members of the team plowed through the soft sand, on duty. There were hugs among friends Linnea hadn’t seen in several years, and introductions to new members of the team—Cindy, Jo, Crystal. In the rear of the group walked a surprise.
“Cara!” Linnea exclaimed.
“Emmi called,” Cara yelled back.
Hope immediately turned toward her mother’s voice and began calling out, “Mama!” Cara reached the stroller and pulled Hope into her arms, kissing her cheeks.
“I couldn’t miss Hope’s first turtle nest! This is a milestone in our family.”
“Linnea,” Emmi said, approaching. “Since you found the nest, would you like to probe for the eggs?”
Linnea was stunned by the offer. She’d only just joined the team again after years away. “I haven’t done it in years.”
“Well, it’s time to get back on the horse. Besides . . .” Emmi handed her an envelope.
“What’s this?”
“Open it.”
Linnea looked around to see all the other team members smiling. Curious, she opened the envelope and pulled out the slip of paper. She gasped at reading it.
“This is my SCDNR permit!”
“Yes, it is. And here is your probe stick,” Emmi said, handing her the narrow metal rod the team used to locate eggs deep in the sand. It was the prize possession of a team member. “Now you can probe for the eggs and do everything else the team does. You already know how. You never forget.”
Cara added, “You learned from the best.”
Linnea accepted the probe stick with reverence. “You can’t know how much this means to me.” She couldn’t put all the emotions into words. How being back on the turtle team, working with these dedicated women, teaching Hope and then Willa and hopefully many more curious young of all ages, she felt again the passion that had brought her to study environmental science years ago.
Suddenly, with a brilliant clarity, Linnea knew what she wanted to do with her degree—and more, her life.
“Thank you,” she said, realizing that sometimes a few words said the most.
Chapter Ten
Female loggerheads have great endurance. During the three months or so that a female loggerhead breeds, she will travel hundreds of miles to nest, lay thirty-five pounds (sixteen kilograms) of eggs—or more—and swim back to her home foraging area, all without eating anything significant.
AFTER A LOVELY dinner of poached salmon, salad, and biscuits with a crisp chenin blanc, Cara put Hope to bed while Linnea cleared the table, stacked the dishwasher, tidied the counters, and picked up the last of the toys. The days flowed by and they’d fallen into this pattern, which turned out to suit them both. While she did the dishes, Linnea heard the water splashing in the tub while Hope got her bath, then the melodic tones of Cara’s voice as she changed her into pajamas and sang Hope to sleep.
Linnea lingered in the kitchen to bake a few healthy snack cookies. She loved to cook and bake, unlike Cara, and enjoyed reigning over the kitchen. Cara was a grateful recipient who let Linnea plan the menus and cook anything she wished within reason, footing the bill.
She knew her aunt was struggling financially. But Cara always made her feel like they were well-off and never let her worry if she wanted a goo
d piece of fish. “Life is too short to eat badly,” she always said. Cara had worldliness, a self-confidence and straightforwardness that Linnea admired. One always knew where one stood with her. There was no subterfuge or false smiles, like with Linnea’s mother.
Her father had often told her that though she looked like her grandmother, in fact she was a lot like his sister, her aunt Cara. He usually said this whenever she argued back or “gave him lip.” Linnea chuckled, relishing the comparison. This summer she vowed to be more confident and unafraid to trust in her choices, just like her aunt.
She hung the towel on the rack, flicked off the lights, and walked across the living room, intending to watch a little television. A noise on the windward deck caught her attention, so she detoured through the sunroom and slid open the sliding door. She spotted her aunt sitting on the deck in her robe with her long bare legs up on a spare chair, a glass of wine in her hand. On the teak table were a bottle of wine, a spare glass, and a flickering candle. It was a balmy, sweet-smelling night, perfect for sitting outdoors.
“Am I disturbing you?”
“Not at all! I was waiting for you. Sit down. Want some wine? I have a glass for you.”
“Why, thanks. Love one.”
She poured a glass for herself while Cara moved from her chair to pull a large old-style steamer trunk toward her. Linnea drew near, her curiosity piqued.
“First of all, I’m loving the old steamer trunk.”
Cara smiled mischievously. “You’re going to love what’s in it more. Go ahead. Open it.”
Cara sank back in her chair and watched as Linnea set her wineglass on the table and approached the chest. The aura of Christmas was in the air. She pulled out the lock and lifted the lid. The smell of mothballs tickled her nose. The trunk was filled with women’s clothes. Linnea reached in and pulled out a sage cotton shirtdress with white piping that looked like it was from the 1950s.
“Oh, it can’t be!” Linnea exclaimed. “Are these Lovie’s clothes?”
Cara had to laugh at her expression. “Only the best. She saved all her favorites and the designer clothes. There’s quite a collection. She was tiny, but so are you. I’m thinking you’ll find some winners in there.”
Linnea was beside herself. This was a treasure trove! She dove in and began pulling out skirts, one more beautiful than the last. Tops and sweaters and— Oh! She unfolded a cocktail dress with a twirl skirt that was breathtaking. Linnea put it against her body and spun in a circle.
“Cara, I can’t believe you’re giving all of these to me! Thank you! I love them.”
“Who else would I give them to? They belong to you.”
“I’m going to spend every free minute tomorrow trying each piece on. We’ll have a fashion show.”
Cara stretched her legs back out on the opposite chair. “I remember whenever we came back from a shopping trip on King Street, Mama would have me show my new clothes to my father before dinner. She called it the fashion show.” Cara smiled. “Those are some of the happier memories with my father.”
Linnea put the clothing back into the trunk and closed it with a sigh of contentment.
“You look like the cat that caught the canary,” Cara said.
“Don’t let Moutarde hear you say that, but yes, I’m content.” She picked up her glass and clinked it with Cara’s. “Here’s to the best summer.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
“The baby is asleep?”
“Blissfully,” Cara replied. “What’s that heavenly scent wafting from the kitchen?”
“Those healthy cookies you liked so much.”
“What have I done to deserve you?”
Linnea laughed, pleased at the comment. “You gave me a boatload of vintage clothing, for starters. But mostly, you let me stay here.” She breathed deep, catching the faint lemony scent of the primroses. “It’s strange, but I feel more at home here than at Tradd Street.”
“It’s not strange at all. I’ve always felt the very same thing. As did Lovie. That’s why she came here as often as she could.”
“I thought it was just to escape her husband.”
Cara smirked. “That too. But it was so much more. The lifestyle here is more let-your-hair-down relaxed. You feel it driving over the Connector, don’t you? The vast miles of cordgrass cut through by snaking water, then you reach the apex and suddenly . . .” She sighed as though feeling what she was describing. “You see the Atlantic spread out before you and you think, Is it blue today? A stormy green? Then all at once you feel like a delete button has been pressed on all your stress and worries, and for that moment you feel serenely connected to something much bigger than you. And it happens every time. If you just take the moment to look.”
Linnea could see in her mind’s eye exactly what Cara was describing and felt the serenity by association.
“That’s all true,” Linnea said. “But for me, being here is so much more.”
“How so?”
“It’s hard to put into words. I’ve been away from the beach house for four-plus years. Yet in that time I kept the dream of doing something meaningful in my life, like Lovie taught me. She used to say I should feel passion for whatever I chose to do. That way I’d always love my work. You know better than anyone I had to fight with Daddy to declare environmental science as my major. It was the right choice. I have a good science foundation to better understand the issues. Now I have to find the path that best suits me and my interests and talents to use my education. I know I’m not suited for lab or fieldwork. But I came home in a quandary about what I really want to pursue. I’ve applied for jobs in environmental PR, but nothing’s come up. It’s hard to find an entry-level position.”
“I think you’d be very good at that.”
“But, oh, Cara,” she said with feeling, “since I’ve been here, I’ve remembered how much I enjoy being with people. Sharing what I love. Brett taught me that, too. Being on the turtle team and teaching the children, I realized something very important. I know what I want to do with my life.”
Cara leaned forward, listening intently.
“I want to be involved in public education. I love seeing the awe and hope in people’s eyes, feeling like with each person I talk to or influence, I’m lighting a candle of hope. I know that sounds dream-filled, but I’ve seen the reactions myself. People do care. They want to help. To make a difference. This is important, especially now.” She fell silent a moment. “I just have to find the best way for me to do that.”
“That will come from experience,” said Cara. “And luck. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you fall into the right place at the right time. Or you find a job that leads to the right job. And, of course, there’s always volunteering. We’re all in this together.”
“Right.” Linnea heartened at this. “Like everyone else, I’m worried about climate change. Every day we hear about the catastrophic effects on the planet. But here on the island, I can see the changes for myself. And I worry. What if the high temperatures create more female turtles than males? Why are we having early season starts? And I pick up so much more plastic trash than I used to. It’s everywhere.” She took a sip of her wine. “I’m going to start narrowing my job search. I feel empowered knowing what I want to do.”
“I have every confidence in you.”
“Thanks, Aunt Cara. That means a lot. You’ve always been there for me.”
“Oh, Linnea,” Cara said quietly. “You’re young. You have your whole life ahead of you.”
“So are you.”
Cara laughed and looked into her wineglass. “Not so young . . .”
Linnea shifted in her chair, moving closer. Cara, at fifty-three, was as vibrant and attractive as a woman ten years younger. Nothing about her slender figure, glossy dark hair, and elegant clothes implied age.
“You still have a life ahead of you. Especially with Hope in it. And maybe someday you’ll find love again.”
“Love?” Cara shook her head. “I don’t know if I
can ever love anyone the way I did Brett.”
“No,” Linnea said, treading carefully. She traced her finger around the rim of her glass. “But you can love someone else differently, because that person will be different.”
“You know, someone else told me the same thing.”
“Because it’s true—this isn’t India, you know. You don’t have to throw yourself on the funeral pyre. You’ll always love him. I’ll always love him. You know, when I was young, I’d see you two together and pray that someday I’d fall in love like that. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to let a love like that go. But, Cara, Brett left. Through no fault of his own, but he’s gone. And I know that if he were here tonight, he’d tell you to live your life. It’s too short to waste a single day. Now I pray that you find someone new to love.”
Cara ran her fingers through her short hair. Looking down, she said by way of confession, “I have met someone I find attractive.”
Linnea was surprised by this. Cara could be so discreet. “Who?”
She lifted her gaze. “David Wyatt.”
“Heather’s father?”
Cara made a face. “That makes it awkward, doesn’t it?”
“Not at all. It’s just a coincidence. So . . . what’s he like?”
“The first word that jumps to mind is kind.”
“I’m sold.”
Cara laughed again and shook her head. “I don’t know why we’re even talking about this. I can’t imagine dating anyone again. It feels like a betrayal to Brett. It’s too soon.”
“It’s been three years, Cara.” Then it hit her. “You mean you haven’t dated anyone else yet? Not in Chattanooga?”
Cara shook her head. “Not that I wasn’t asked. But I had no interest.”
Beach House Reunion Page 12