The Summer Girls (15 page)

From the west wing of the house a screen door creaked. Mamaw turned her head to see Nate dressed in his usual outfit of soft fabric shorts, T-shirt, and tennis shoes. He was half bent in a crouch and scuttled across the porch like a ghost crab. She watched him hurry down the long wooden dock, breaking one of his mother’s strictest rules. Mamaw set her coffee cup down with a clatter and hurried as fast as her body could to the porch’s railing.

What is that boy up to?
she wondered. Dear heaven! He was going straight to the edge of the dock. He wasn’t going to jump in, was he? Could he even swim? She felt her heart rate accelerate, was ready to call out.

Then a movement in the water caught her attention and she saw what the boy had been watching and waiting for. Carson was paddling her board toward the dock. She was dripping wet in her bright coral-colored bikini and her long dark hair was clinging to her muscled, tan body.

Just look at her,
Mamaw thought with pride and wonder. With her dark looks and athletic body, she was like some exotic Amazon princess. For all that Mamaw had once been thought of as a local beauty, she wondered if she’d ever possessed Carson’s vibrant vitality.

A movement beside the paddleboard caught her attention. There was a dorsal fin. Mamaw clutched her heart as the memory of Carson’s shark story leaped into her mind. Mamaw squinted and leaned forward on the railing and saw that it was a dolphin! A short laugh escaped her lips as she brought her fingers to her mouth, almost slumping in relief.
A dolphin . . . Nate must have spotted it from his window. It was no wonder the boy was so excited.

Mamaw continued to watch as Carson deftly stepped onto the floating dock and easily lifted her board from the water. Nate scrambled down to the lower dock and stared into the water, mesmerized by the dolphin that lingered there. She heard the dolphin’s piercing whistle, followed by the high-pitched sound of Nate’s laughter. Mamaw’s hand slipped again to her heart, this time in a gesture of tender surprise. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard the boy laugh.

The porch door slammed again, drawing Mamaw’s attention. Dora appeared in a panic, her eyes searching. She stopped at the edge of the porch and raised her hand over her eyes, spotting the pair at the dock.

“Nate!” she called.

“Oh, leave him be,” Mamaw called out to her. “He’s with Carson. He’ll be fine.”

Dora swung her head around, startled to hear Mamaw’s voice. Dora was neatly dressed in a blue seersucker skirt and white embroidered linen blouse. She’d taken more care with her appearance, something that spoke volumes to Mamaw.

“You look quite pretty this morning,” Mamaw told her.

“He shouldn’t be out there on that dock,” Dora said anxiously, moving her hands to her hips. “He knows the rules.”

“Oh, Dora, leave the boy be. He’s having a good time. And he’s in good hands. Carson swims like a fish. She won’t let anything happen to him. For heaven’s sake, child, take a moment for yourself and enjoy a cup of coffee. I don’t imagine you get many breaks early in the morning.”

Dora shifted her gaze to her grandmother. Her face appeared conflicted, as though she wasn’t sure what she should do.

“Go on and fetch some coffee and join me for a spell,” Mamaw told her, patting the chair beside her. “It’s my birthday. And I’d love a little company.”

Dora looked back out at the dock, then turned to Mamaw. Her face slowly shifted from resignation to a hesitant smile. “All right,” she said, and walked back into the house.

Mamaw took a final glance at the pair at the dock, locked in deep conversation.
Good,
she thought. That boy needed some time with his aunts. And Dora needed some time to herself.

A few moments later Dora came out with a steaming mug and a smile on her face. Mamaw smiled brightly in return. Perhaps it was going to be a nice weekend after all.

When Carson climbed onto the dock, she was surprised to see Nate sitting there with his legs folded staring out at the dolphin. He was such a skinny little kid, and he had the worst haircut. It was the old-fashioned bowl style; Dora had to have cut it herself, she thought, looking at the jagged, uneven edges. When the boy’s eyes shifted to her, Carson sensed nervousness, as though he feared her getting too close.

“Why, hello, Nate. What are you doing here?”

“Nothing,” he said, looking at the dock.

In the distance they could hear Dora calling Nate’s
name. The boy tensed and picked at a scab on his arm but did not answer her.

“Didn’t you hear your mother calling?”

Nate scowled but said nothing.

“You should answer her. She might be worried.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want her to come here because she will make the fish go away.”

“The fish?” Carson paused. “Oh.” Nate meant the dolphin, which explained why he was here. “That’s not a fish, Nate. It’s a mammal. It’s called a dolphin. Come meet her.”

Nate’s eyes appeared eager but tentative. Carson held out her hand, which he ignored. Instead he carefully stepped down to the floating dock and approached the edge. Delphine swam several yards away but circled back, curious as ever, making clicking noises.

“The dolphin likes you,” Nate said.

Carson smiled, feeling it was true. “I hope so. I like the dolphin.”

“Does your dolphin have a name?”

“She’s not
my
dolphin. She’s wild . . . But I do call her Delphine.”

“Delphine,” Nate repeated. “That’s a good name.”

Carson laughed and leaned forward to hug the boy, but Nate saw her coming and immediately stiffened. Remembering Dora’s warning, Carson caught herself and pulled back.

Nate didn’t appear to notice her dilemma. He was engrossed with searching for Delphine, who had submerged and disappeared into the depths.

“Where did she go?”

Carson raised her hand over her eyes like a visor and searched the still water. A few minutes later she spotted Delphine far across the cove. “There she is,” she said to Nate, pointing. “Straight across. Wait, she dove again.” She saw Nate on his tiptoes, squinting. They watched as Delphine arched over the water, catching breaths, swimming farther away. After a few minutes, Carson couldn’t spot her any longer. “She’s gone. But don’t worry. She’ll be back.”

“But I want to see her now.”

Carson didn’t have much experience with children and demanding ones hit a nerve. “Well, kiddo, you can’t. She’s a wild animal. She comes and goes when she pleases. Speaking of which, it’s time for us to go. Come on.” She gave him a gentle nudge, then began to walk off. A small hand gently tapped her arm. She turned to see Nate chewing his lip and looking out at the water.

“Can I see the dolphin again?”

She saw his eyes—as eager as the dolphin’s—and empathized with his need to make contact with whatever it was the dolphin possessed that drew them both in like magic.

“Sure,” she replied with a smile. “If she comes back. And I think she will. Maybe later today we can come back here together. Bring your life vest, and we’ll go for a swim. You do know how to swim, don’t you?”

Nate nodded. Then he smiled, and it was like the sun coming out from behind a dark cloud.

Later that morning the smell of bacon was wafting from the kitchen. Carson followed the scent, her stomach growling. The kitchen was empty but she saw a plate of crisp bacon and some of Lucille’s biscuits laid out under a glass bowl. She was reaching for them when she heard footsteps behind her. Turning her head, she saw Harper. Her face was pale and her eyes glassy, but she’d made the effort. Her hair was pulled back in a stubby ponytail and she was neatly dressed in slim madras Bermuda shorts, a white polo shirt, and clean white tennis shoes. Carson looked down at her own green T-shirt over torn denim shorts and thought Harper looked better outfitted for Nantucket than for Sullivan’s Island.

“Good morning,” Carson said. “Going sailing?”

Harper shook her head dully, missing the joke entirely.

“Want some bacon?” Carson asked, taking a big, greasy, exaggerated bite.

Harper visibly paled. “Ugh. Don’t mention food. Is there coffee left?”

“I’ll get you a cup,” Carson said, piling bacon onto her plate now that she knew she didn’t have to share with Harper. She reached to open the cabinet and pulled out a large mug that bore the faded insignia of the Gamecocks. “A little too much tequila last night?”

Harper shushed her, looking from left to right. “Keep it down. I don’t want Mamaw or Lucille to find out.” She took a slow sip of coffee. “I have no idea how much I drank. Someone was always putting a drink in front of me. It was bottomless . . .” She took a sip of coffee, then walked to the cabinet and prowled for a glass. Finding one, she filled it with water; then from her pocket, she retrieved two aspirin.
“The breakfast of champions,” she muttered, and swallowed them down with a shudder.

Carson laughed lightly, with more sympathy. “Sorry, sis. Didn’t mean for you to get hungover. I should’ve watched over you better. You’re a tiny thing.” She couldn’t help but snicker. “A lightweight.”

“I don’t need you to watch over me, thank you very much. I can usually hold my own,” Harper said. “It’s just that it was a crazy day and I didn’t eat much.” She swallowed more water. “Let me guess. You can hold your liquor like a champ.”

Carson grinned and slid a long piece of bacon into her mouth. “I feel right as rain.”

“Great.”

“While you were snoring away, I went to town and got us some fishing poles and lures. Sister mine, put on your sunscreen, ’cause we’re going fishing today.”

Harper slanted a glance at her from under half-closed lids. “You’ve got to be kidding. Worms? Fish? Me? Not a chance.”

Nate came into the room, followed by Dora. Carson felt a twinge of affection when she saw his blue eyes spark at seeing her.

“Hey, squirt,” Carson said to him. “Want to go fishing?” she asked.

“Fishing?” asked Dora with surprise. “I don’t remember anyone saying that was part of today’s agenda.”

“I wasn’t aware that there was an agenda,” Carson replied. As the eldest, Dora always assumed she was the one who should organize family events. And she had a naturally bossy nature.

“But of course there is,” Dora said. “We have cocktails on the porch at five, for which we are all supposed to be in our dinner best so we can have our photograph taken,” she added.

“Photograph? Oh, what a nice idea. I’ll get my cameras ready.”

“
You’re
not taking the photo,” Dora said. “Mamaw hired a photographer.”

Carson took offense. “Why would she hire someone? I’m a professional photographer. Tell her to cancel.”

“She wants you
in
the photograph, not behind the camera,” Dora explained.

“Hasn’t she ever heard of a timer? Where is she? I’ll talk to her.”

Harper spoke up. “Let it go,” she told Carson. “Mamaw’s made her arrangements. I’m sure she was thinking of you.”

“Harper’s right. Mamaw is having dinner catered so Lucille can relax and join us, too. She’s gone to a great deal of trouble planning everything.” She delivered a meaningful glance to Carson. “But no one said anything about fishing.”

Mamaw came into the room with Lucille, her eyes gleaming. “It was meant to be a surprise, Dora. So please smile and try not to spoil it.” Mamaw brandished a red fishing rod and reel. “Look what I’ve found!” She stroked it gently before she turned to face Nate. “This was your great-grandfather Edward’s fishing rod. He loved fishing and had several, of course. But he used this one almost exclusively at the end. It was his favorite. I know it would have given him great pleasure to teach you to fish. Since he isn’t here, I’m
giving it to you, his only great-grandson. I hope you catch as many fish out there on that dock as he did.”

Mamaw handed the rod to him with a dramatic flourish. Carson could see that this moment meant a great deal to her.

In contrast, Nate reflected no emotion at all. He accepted the rod into his arms and looked at it dispassionately.

Dora came to stand beside him, a grin stiff on her face. “Isn’t that wonderful! Say thank you to Mamaw,” she told him.