On Ocean Boulevard Read online

  “Ready?” she asked.

  “Let’s do this,” Annabelle said, and pushed open the door.

  They stepped out of the van into a wall of heat.

  “It feels like an oven,” Toy said with a gasp, fanning herself with her hand.

  “You could cook the proverbial egg on the pavement,” agreed Annabelle.

  “Just our luck. I hope the volunteers still show up,” said Linnea. She looked up at the sky. It was 4:30 p.m. and the sun was still bright. “It’ll cool down… eventually.” She slammed the van door shut. “It’s showtime. We might as well get set up.”

  July was the hottest month for the islands, and today was on course to become another record breaker. She went to open the back of the van. The metal was hot to the touch. There weren’t the crowds of yesterday, but plenty of people were still hanging out at the beach. The local restaurants were offering discounted drinks and food for all the sweep volunteers, which Linnea hoped would keep everyone hydrated. She pulled her hair into a ponytail, and brushing back her hair from her forehead, she felt a sheen of sweat. She slipped on her SC Aquarium ball cap.

  The three women worked together to pull out the Beach Sweep kits, the tent, the table, and bags of supplies. In short order, the sign-up station was set near the Front Beach entrance. They had nearly one hundred people signed up for the sweep, which would go on for three hours. Not everyone would come for the full time. All they asked was a minimum of thirty minutes. By five o’clock, Linnea counted more than fifty people gathering at the station. She gave Toy and Annabelle a thumbs-up.

  Linnea called together her support team from the aquarium and their partners, the Isle of Palms Cleanup Crew. Annabelle handed out the Beach Sweep kits to the leaders. Linnea was proud of them. The kits included reusable sweep bags and gloves, clipboards, data sheets and pens for data collection, hand sanitizer, and first aid kits.

  While organizing teams, she spotted Gordon approaching from the Front Beach path, where a steady stream of beachgoers made their way between the beach and the shops. He was dressed for the heat in a Surfrider cap over dark sunglasses, his navy swimsuit, and a white, long-sleeved UV shirt of the type surfers wore to protect their skin. He waved when he spotted her. Behind him walked the tall blond man she’d seen with him the first morning she’d met him. His hair was salt-stiff, his tan golden. Women who passed him on the path looked back again to gawk. Linnea began to chuckle, but her smile froze when she spotted the tall, leggy woman following him under a large, black floppy hat. Pandora.

  She hadn’t seen her erstwhile friend since they’d had words. Pandora had not responded to Linnea’s calls or texts, and she hadn’t shown up at the last turtle walk. She’d thought Pandora had cut her off and certainly didn’t expect to see her here today. With an effort, she dragged her gaze away and returned her attention to her job. She smiled at her waiting support staff.

  “Good afternoon, y’all,” Linnea began, mustering enthusiasm. “I don’t have to tell you how excited we all are about this event. Our first Beach Sweep! Thank you for your help. Today the volunteers are here to collect trash, but we’re also interested in the data we collect. This is a critical aspect to our research efforts. Picking up litter without data collection barely scratches the surface of the issues facing our communities.”

  As she spoke, she was aware of Gordon and Pandora joining the crowd to listen.

  “This is our first sweep, but we hope to spread out across the state—to rivers, creeks, parks, anywhere crowds gather. Our collection of data is critical to identifying the most problematic debris hotspots and the kind of trash being tossed in order to develop solutions that benefit the communities. So, while the volunteers are out there collecting trash, we collect the data. Okay? Let’s make it a good one!”

  Everyone clapped their hands and moved out to gather their volunteers. The Beach Sweep was underway. There was a flurry of activity as more kits were handed out. More than sixty volunteers had shown up, a good start. She anticipated another forty to come later.

  Annabelle sidled closer and said in a low voice, “Look who showed up.”

  Linnea at last had a free moment to look up. She saw Pandora waiting in the shade of the tent. She glanced around but didn’t see Gordon.

  “Yeah, I saw her earlier.”

  “What do you think she wants?”

  “To help?” Linnea offered.

  Annabelle scoffed. “Want me to find out?”

  “No. Man the table, okay? I’ll be right back.”

  Annabelle turned to another staff member. “Cole, would you man the ship a minute?” She smiled innocently at Linnea and followed her to Pandora’s side.

  Pandora offered a short wave as she approached. Linnea couldn’t see her eyes behind the large dark sunglasses, so it was hard to gauge her expression. Then again, Pandora was hard to figure out in any situation. She could be mercurial and one never really knew if she was being amusing, catty, or serious.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here,” Linnea said. She skipped a beat. “But I’m glad you came.”

  Pandora faced Annabelle. “Oh, it’s the bartender.”

  Annabelle smiled stiffly. “Oh, it’s the bitch.”

  Pandora barked out a laugh. “Touché. I like her.” Then, lifting her chin, she said, “Blimey, could you have picked a hotter day?” She began fanning herself with the beach sweep instruction paper.

  “We have cold water available in the Windjammer,” Linnea said in a professional tone.

  Pandora shook her head. “I’m fine.”

  There was an awkward silence.

  Pandora said to Annabelle, “Would you mind? I’d like a word with Linnea.”

  Annabelle looked at Linnea. When she nodded, Annabelle said, “I’ll be at the table.”

  As she walked away, Pandora said, “I didn’t think you needed a bodyguard.”

  “Of course not. We’re here working. Speaking of which, I have to get back.”

  “Wait. Please.”

  Linnea crossed her arms and waited.

  Pandora looked out at the ocean. “The other day…” She sighed. “I may have overreacted.”

  Linnea was surprised by the admission but said nothing.

  “I was hurt,” Pandora said, turning to face her. “You knew I liked Gordon. There are rules.… You shouldn’t have gone after him.”

  “I didn’t. He went after me.”

  “No matter,” she said in a huff of frustration. “You went with him. Sisters before misters.”

  Linnea’s defense crumbled. “I’m sorry.”

  Pandora took off her sunglasses. Her large eyes revealed that she was sincere. “So am I. It was childish of me to walk off like that. I was miffed.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “Gordon came to see me.”

  Linnea opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again.

  “He can be quite persistent, you know,” Pandora said. “Besides, it was clear from the moment he started talking that he’s mad for you. Poor man. He seemed quite anxious that I understood you’d never meant to cross me.” She lifted her shoulders. “Never saw him like this before.” She made a face. “I should hate you, but it was clear I never had a chance.” She looked appraisingly at Linnea. “Do you like him?”

  Linnea nodded. “A lot.”

  “Good.” Pandora replaced her sunglasses. “I’d be put out if you didn’t. He’s a nice chap. I’d hate to see him hurt.”

  “I hardly think there’s any worry about that. We’ve only started seeing each other and he’s leaving soon.”

  “You don’t know Gordon. He’s not a player,” Pandora said in all seriousness. “He doesn’t gad about, if you understand what I mean. He’s always so into his work. Traveling for work.” She sighed. “I’m happy to see him with someone. I’d begun to wonder if he was destined to spend his whole life alone.”

  Linnea wondered about this revelation. She was unprepared to consider how deep Gordon might be gettin
g into the relationship. She was only just recovering from John.

  “But he’s leaving in a few months.…”

  “So am I. Supposedly. But that doesn’t mean we won’t come back, does it?”

  Linnea stood awkwardly silent, considering the implications of all this.

  “It all turned out for the best anyway,” Pandora said in that lilting voice Linnea was relieved to hear again. It signaled the serious talk was over and Pandora intended to have a good time. “He introduced me to his roommate. He’s quite a dish.”

  “I haven’t met his roommate.” Then she thought again. “Do you mean that big Viking?”

  Pandora almost purred as she smiled. “Lars. From Sweden. He’s a colleague of Gordon’s here to study dolphins. And he surfs.”

  “You mean the Viking?” she repeated, incredulous. “My God, he’s gorgeous.”

  Pandora narrowed her eyes and pointed her finger at her in faux anger. “You stay away from him. If you lure this one away, I swear, I’d have to feed you to the sharks.”

  Linnea smiled, relieved to have passed this hurdle with her friend. “Promise.”

  Pandora rose and looked toward the teams spreading out across the beach. “Well,” she said and pulled out her SC Aquarium bag. “I guess I better get busy. What’s that saying? No rest for the wicked?”

  “You’ve come for the beach sweep?” Linnea asked, genuinely surprised. “I thought this wasn’t your thing?”

  Pandora slipped on her sunglasses, masking her face, but her emotion rang through her words. “One thing you should know about me, Linnea. I may put on a show, but I care. I’d have to be a fool not to see what’s going on with plastic and climate change. I love Australia and it’s burning up. Breaks my heart. If picking up plastic and litter will help, then I’m walking the walk. You saw Annabelle pick up trash and started doing it. I saw you, and now I’m doing it. It’s a ripple effect. I may aspire to work with governments, but I don’t underestimate the power of the individual. You showed me that. And I needed to understand it. So listen carefully because I’m only going to say this once.” She paused, then said with feeling, “Thank you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  It is widely believed that hatchlings imprint the unique qualities of their natal beach either in the nest or during their trek across the sand. These could include smell, low-frequency sound, magnetic fields, the characteristics of seasonal offshore currents, and celestial cues. Studies have also shown that sea turtles have the ability to detect magnetic fields to help them navigate.

  THE NEXT FEW weeks rolled in and out like the tide, steady and calm, and in a predictable manner. After all the emotional turmoil of June, Cara was grateful for the lull in July. Nothing remarkable happened. The sun rose and set each day. The routine was comforting, even healing.

  She stood at the shoreline, her feet in the sea. The water was as warm as a bath and swirled around her ankles in a caressing manner. She remembered how her mother had always called the ocean her old friend. Standing here now, in the pink rays of the early morning, Cara at long last understood.

  Mornings were her favorite time at the beach. Especially early, when the sand was cool and the sun was not yet hot. Then there was dusk, when the crowds had dispersed and only the peeps played tag with the waves.

  These quiet, cooler moments were the only times she brought Hope out on the beach these days. Her daughter had been medically cleared from the measles and seemed her old self, frolicking in the waves with David. She didn’t care if David accused her of hovering; after that scare, she wasn’t taking any chances.

  She smiled as she watched David lift a squealing Hope high into the air. Cara had learned the beauty of a peaceful life in the past few weeks. She’d always been goal-oriented, rising in the morning with a purpose, working hard and determinedly, and relaxing only when those goals were met. She liked being in control. Oh, how naïve she’d been.

  Hope’s illness had been a humbling lesson that no one, or no thing, controlled life. One could only take each day as it came, accepting whatever fate put in one’s path. She should have learned that lesson when Brett was taken from her so suddenly. Yet instead of searching within, she’d become all the more focused on outward changes—moving to Chattanooga and starting fresh. Then Hope came into her life, and once again, her life changed. She’d opened her heart again, which in turn opened her up to accept the possibility of love. She’d loosened her tight-fisted grip on her rigid plans and goals and, with David, set out on a new course. But once again, the wily fates intervened. This last time, she’d been lost in a wave of uncertainty, tumbling, unable to breathe, not knowing which way was up or down. The more she struggled, the more she neared collapse.

  Once again, it was love that had saved her. By letting loose of her anger and opening her heart to love—and forgiveness—she’d found the strength to survive. To persevere. And this time, she had the courage and determination—and perhaps the wisdom—to change her life once again. She had finally learned the hard-won lesson that life was like swimming in rip current. It was a strong moving current, rife with hazards. If one struggled against it, panicked and struck out blindly, that person could perish from exhaustion. If, on the other hand, one kept one’s wits and continued swimming, letting go of fear and keeping afloat, eventually she would make it back to shore.

  She’d spent the past several weeks on leave essentially floating. She wanted to stay home with Hope. She’d thought she was indispensable at the aquarium; that the conservation program would fall apart without her. She’d been wrong. Linnea was doing just fine. The aquarium was carrying on in her absence.

  As she’d promised, Cara and Emmi had visited memory care centers and decided on one that was close to them and had a lovely view of a large pond that held several land turtles. At summer’s end, they would introduce Flo to the home and gradually get her settled.

  Cara had also begun scanning real estate advertisements and brochures. She hadn’t yet contacted a real estate agent, but she’d accepted the inevitable that she was going to move from Primrose Cottage. This was a major step in letting go, she realized. Her mother had been right, as usual. The beach house was not so much a place as a state of mind.

  Cara heard another squeal and laughed, watching Hope jump over a small wave at the shoreline. With her knees out, she looked like a jumping frog. She caught David’s eyes and he waved. He stood tanned and tall. Was it her imagination or had his hair whitened more in the past few weeks? Men only looked more distinguished with white hair, she thought, with a twinge of resentment.

  Squinting, she caught sight of Linnea walking along the shoreline toward them. Cara waved her arm in an arc over her head. She’d invited Linnea over to discuss the ongoing projects at the aquarium. Linnea had been doing a fabulous job in her absence, and it had been noticed by Kevin Mills, the CEO, as well as the marketing department. Cara had received glowing letters praising the success of the Beach Sweep and her bag idea. As a result, seven other communities had signed up for the sweeps.

  Linnea was wearing khaki shorts and the T-shirt from the aquarium. Her blond hair was pulled back in a braid under her aquarium ball cap. In her hand, she carried the aquarium’s recycled trash bag; it was half-full. Cara was so proud of her niece, the way she’d taken charge and made the program her own. Cara knew that she was ready for the offer she was about to make her.

  “Did you walk here from your house?” Cara asked, seeing her easy stride. “That has to be over five miles.”

  “Yep. I’m getting in shape. Wanted to get a good walk in.” She turned and waved at David and Hope. “Hey, you two!” she called out. Turning back to Cara, she added, “She’s like a little fish.”

  “I can’t keep her out of the ocean. You were like that.”

  “Was I?” Linnea smiled. “Kindred spirits.”

  “Let’s sit,” Cara said, indicating the towels higher up on the sand. “I’ve got water.”

  “Love some, thanks.”

&
nbsp; They strolled up to where a scattering of towels was strewn under a large blue umbrella. Near a bag spilling out beach toys and a half-built sandcastle sat a small cooler. Cara opened this and retrieved a stainless-steel thermos. She poured water into reusable glasses, and handed one to Linnea, who drank thirstily. Once settled, the two women stretched out their legs.

  Linnea looked out at David and Hope cavorting in the ocean. “You’d never know how sick she was a month ago.”

  “The resilience of children is amazing. As for me, I think I aged ten years.”

  Linnea looked at her closely, lowering her sunglasses. “You never age. It’s not fair. But you have lost some weight.”

  “I know. It’ll come back in time. I can’t remember eating much when she was sick.” It was her turn now to study her niece. Linnea sipped water and looked at the sea. Her profile was so much like Lovie’s, Cara sometimes stared at her, remembering her mother. Linnea appeared more serene. She’d lost the cloud of sorrow that had hovered over her when she’d arrived home in April. Still slender, she looked more fit, even robust, from all the walking. Her skin was tanned, and she was bubbling with energy.

  “You, on the other hand, are simply glowing.”

  Linnea smiled. “It’s called happiness.”

  “Does this have to do with Gordon?”

  Linnea nodded. “He’s really wonderful. Kind.”

  “That’s a good quality.”

  “The best,” she agreed. “And yet… I can’t quite put my finger on it. But somehow, he remains elusive. Like he’s holding back.”

  Cara frowned; she didn’t like the sound of that. “Holding back what? His affection?”

  “Or some secret he’s not telling me.”

  “Good God, he’s not married?”

  “He says he’s not.”

  “Engaged?”

  Linnea shook her head. “No, unless he’s lying, of course. But it seems against type. Besides, Pandora says he’s not attached and I trust she’d know.”