The Summer Wind (13 page)

I
mmediately after the family meeting, Carson hopped into the golf cart and made a beeline to Blake’s apartment. It had been less than a week since she’d seen him, and she was surprised how much she missed him. She had the pedal to the metal, but the cart couldn’t go beyond fifteen miles per hour.

“Come on, come on,” she murmured, leaning forward with a sense of urgency.

At last she arrived at the long stretch of white wood apartments that once had been quarters for the military when they had a presence on Sullivan’s Island. She parked the cart and hurried up the stairs to knock sharply on the door. She heard a warning bark—Hobbs—then a moment later the door swung open and Blake was standing there in tan shorts, a brown T-shirt, sandals, and an expression of delight on his attractive features.

“At last!” he exclaimed, and reached out to grab her around
her waist and hoist her against his chest before he planted a solid, impatient kiss on her mouth.

As usual, the natural spark between them exploded. Carson wrapped her arms around him, starved for his kisses. She hung on, still kissing, as Blake walked her into the room, tottering as he reached out to close the front door. Hobbs barked excitedly beside them, pawing to get their attention.

Blake tore his mouth away to growl at his dog, “Hobbs, get down!”

Hobbs grunted and went to his bed and settled with a disappointed thump.

“This one’s all mine,” Blake said against her lips, his eyes gleaming, and claimed her mouth again.

Giddy, laughing, kissing, they stumbled into Blake’s bedroom, kicking off shoes en route to the bed.

Later, lying naked in Blake’s arms, Carson wondered at the red-hot quality of their passion. Undressing and getting into the bed was a blur, all part of one seamless, hungry, relentless kiss that demanded more. It was often like this with him, she thought as she let her finger slide lazily up and down his arm.

She played with the soft, dark hair of his chest, thinking how she’d driven twelve hours home from Florida, slept in her own bed, reconnected with Mamaw and her sisters. Yet only now, in Blake’s arms, did she feel truly home again. It was a new sensation for her, as confusing as it was pleasant.

She leaned back to look into his face. “I missed you.”

He laughed in that satisfied, ego-laden manner men sometimes did. “I could tell.”

She smirked and gently, teasingly tugged at his hair.

“You done good with Delphine,” he told her.

She smiled against his chest. The subject of Delphine’s accident was still a tender subject between them. She knew, despite his spoken forgiveness, some part of him was still angry at her for drawing a wild dolphin to the dock with food and attention, so this praise fell sweet on her ears.

“Lynne told you?”

“She called after you left. Actually, it was kind of a thank-you call. She told me how Delphine turned the corner after you visited. She was very pleased. And impressed.”

Carson felt warmth bloom in her chest. “I felt badly leaving so quickly and on such short notice.”

“She understood. It was a family emergency. Besides, she thought it might’ve been for the best.”

“Really? Why?”

“Your bond with Delphine is so strong. If she’s got any hope to be released to the wild, she can’t continue to seek out humans. Especially not you.”

Carson turned on her back and looked at the ceiling. The fan’s blades slowly stirred the air above them. She still couldn’t imagine a world without Delphine in it. A small pang of sadness pierced her insides whenever she thought about it. Yet she knew if she truly loved the dolphin, she had to let her go.

“I want that, too.” She moved to sit up on the bed, comfortable with her nakedness. “I need your advice on something,” she began.

Blake moved to put his hands under his head. His dark eyes gazed at her with full attention.

“It’s about Nate. We’re worried about him. He’s having a hard time getting past Delphine’s accident. Harper did research
about dolphin programs for children with special needs and wondered if a program like that wouldn’t help Nate get past his guilt over what happened with Delphine.”

“Could be.” Blake’s brows gathered, a signal she recognized that he was considering the question. “I don’t know anything about the benefits of dolphin programs with special-needs kids. It’s not my area.”

“But you know the Dolphin Research Center.”

He raised his brows.

“That’s the program we’re interested in,” she explained.

“And it’s no coincidence that the DRC is also the place they’re thinking of moving Delphine.”

Carson smiled conspiratorially. “I figured, why not check out the facility while I help Nate out.”

He raised himself on one elbow. “
You’re
going to take Nate to the DRC?”

She shrugged. “Me or Harper, or both of us. It’s still up in the air.”

He gave a little groan. “I can’t see Dora letting you or Harper take Nate.”

“It’s complicated.”

“I think I can follow.”

Carson reflected on the long family meeting earlier that day. They still hadn’t presented the idea to Dora. That would come next.

“In a nutshell, Dora’s pretty fragile right now. She had, well, kind of a meltdown the other day. With that on top of her health, Mamaw wants Dora to take some time to heal without worries or responsibility. So Harper and I thought if we took Nate to this program, it would provide both Dora and Nate
time to heal. I think it’s a win-win deal. So I’m asking if you can help me make arrangements for Nate at the Dolphin Research Center?”

“You’re asking me to help you to leave again.”

She licked her lips, knowing it was a tender point. “Yes, I suppose I am. But not for long.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

“And I was gone less than a week.”

“And now you want to leave again.”

“It’s not about leaving,” Carson said with a hint of frustration. “I’m taking Nate to Florida for a weeklong program. Hey,” she said brightly as a new idea emerged, “why don’t you come with us?”

“I can’t. I took time off to go to Florida the last time. With Delphine. Plus I’ll be out in the field for a week gathering samples. I have to be here for that.”

She looked up at the ceiling again.

Blake said quietly, “Like I said, I don’t know much about the special-needs program but I’ve met Joan, the woman who heads it up. I like her and I hear she’s a great therapist. She tailors the program to meet the students’ needs.”

Carson felt a glimmer of hope. “So, you think it’s a good idea?”

“It can’t hurt.” He begrudgingly smiled. “Yeah, I think Nate will do well there.”

“You’ll help us get an appointment?”

“I’ll give Joan a call and explain the situation. That’s all I can do.”

Carson leaned over to kiss him, filled with gratitude. “Thank you, Blake.”

He returned the grin of a man who’d just been played. “Come here,” he said, holding out his arms.

Carson sighed and climbed into his arms.

Blake lowered his lips to her head and slid his arms around her and held her, his cheek resting on her head.

She closed her eyes and nestled against Blake’s chest. Listening to the strong and steady beat of his heart, she felt safe and secure. She didn’t want to go anywhere. She thought,
I could love this man
.

Lucille returned from her appointment and joined Mamaw on the porch. She brandished a deck of cards.

“At last,” Mamaw exclaimed, eager for a hand of gin rummy.

Mamaw cut the deck and Lucille dealt the cards and turned over the discard. Mamaw wasn’t happy with her hand but refrained from making a face. She knew Lucille would be watching for any clues. She rejected the discard and picked up the jack of clubs, then, frowning, immediately discarded it.

“I was thinking . . .”

“Oh Lord, here comes trouble.” Lucille drew a card, kept it, then discarded a queen of hearts.

Mamaw drew a card. “The tension between Harper and Dora is so thick at times I could cut it with a knife. I thought if they had something they could do together, something that would bear fruit, it might bring them closer.” She discarded.

Lucille picked up her discard and placed it in her hand. “I thought them two were a mite too close together already.” She discarded.

Mamaw looked up from her cards. “What do you mean?”

Lucille looked at Mamaw as if she’d lost her marbles. “I mean, them two are sharing a room! They sleep in twin beds! That’s a lot of togetherness for two young girls, but for two grown women? It’s no wonder them two are testy with each other. Your turn.”

Mamaw was stunned by this observation. Of course Lucille was right. She usually was. Why hadn’t Mamaw seen this for herself? She’d blithely assumed the tension between them was merely the difference in their ages or their backgrounds. Leave it to Lucille to figure out something as basic as proximity.

Mamaw picked up a card and was delighted it was the card she was hoping for. “You are absolutely right,” she said. “It’s as plain as the nose on my face. But how? I’m plumb out of rooms and I certainly can’t afford to add on to the house again.”

“Don’t need to. Discard.”

Mamaw looked at her hand and quickly discarded. “Dora doesn’t want to sleep in the library with Nate and we learned we can’t move him. Where do you suggest we put another room?”

Lucille considered Mamaw’s discard, then drew from the pile instead. She made a face and discarded. “You came up with the idea yourself a while ago.”

Mamaw leaned back in her chair and racked her memory banks. Then her face lit up like a morning’s dawn. “My sitting room!”

“It’s low-hanging fruit.” Lucille picked up the card.

“Right. It wouldn’t be much to do and the cost would be
reasonable.” She sat straighter, excited at the prospect. “Each girl would have her own room.” Mamaw was beaming as she studied her cards. “We settled the problem of rooms, but we haven’t come up with an idea to get Harper and Dora to do something together.”

“Well, what do they have in common?” asked Lucille.

“Not much, as far as I can tell. Dora’s kind of a Southern snob about Northerners, and I fear it’s reciprocated in Harper. Harper likes to run, and Dora is starting her walking program. There’s a start.”

“But not something they do together.”

“True. Cooking, maybe?”

“Dora’s on a diet and Harper don’t eat nothing but rabbit food.”

Mamaw knew Lucille could never accept Harper’s vegetarian diet. “The only other thing I see Harper do is be on that computer. She’s always typing . . .”

Lucille set her cards on the table. “What’s she writing? That’s what I want to know. Her fingers are flying.”

Mamaw nodded, and she lowered her voice. “Carson says she’s not just surfing the net. She’s writing something.”

“Surf the net? What’s that mean?”

Mamaw made a face. “I had to ask, too. It means she’s not searching around, or watching videos. Harper is actually writing something, like a diary or journal. Or maybe some travel article on the islands.”

“What’s so secret about that?” Lucille wanted to know.

Mamaw nodded in agreement. “Exactly.”

“Well,” Lucille said, picking up her cards. “I ’spect she’ll tell us when she’s ready.”

Mamaw raised her hand, picked up a card, looked at it, then immediately discarded it.

“None of that aids and abets our cause. Maybe if we think of things Dora likes to do.”

There was a silence as both women stared at their cards. Truth was, Mamaw was hard put to think of anything that Dora loved to do.

Lucille picked up a card, then quickly discarded it. “I know!”

Mamaw’s attention was piqued as she picked up a card.

“Dora likes to garden. She used to have that big garden in Summerville.”

“But do you think Harper likes to garden?”

“Don’t know,” Lucille replied. “You asked me what Dora likes to do.”

Mamaw laughed and moved a few cards in her hand. “We’ll have to keep thinking on it. The way I see it, it’s a two-pronged plan to bring Harper and Dora closer together. First we get them separated by giving each girl a room of her own. Then we bring them together by finding a project they can work on. It will come to me,” she said, drawing out a card and brandishing it in the air. “And when it does, I’ll pounce.” She set the card on the table and sang out, “Gin!”