Beach House Reunion (Beach House #5)(37)
Linnea put sunscreen all over both of them, then carried Hope along the narrow beach path, pointing out all the wildflowers and grasses on the dunes as they walked by. “There’s yellow primrose. That was your great-grandmama Lovie’s favorite. That’s morning glory, my favorite. And be careful of the prickly sandspurs. They hurt so badly! I’ll tell you a story Lovie told me.
“There used to live here the most beautiful small parrot called the Carolina parakeet. The sweet, colorful birds ate the nasty sandspur seeds. The seeds were toxic, and cats that ate the parakeets died. So it helped with the wild cat population too. Oh, those parakeets loved the sandspur seeds! But the Carolina parakeet is gone now. Isn’t that sad? There used to be flocks of two to three hundred. Can you imagine such a sight?” She sighed and looked at the sky, imagining a colorful flock. “Hunting, deforestation, and disease destroyed every single bird. They’re all gone. And see the sandspurs everywhere? They are the parakeets’ revenge!”
She laughed lightly, remembering Lovie’s laugh. Being here again, surrounded by the dunes, the beach, especially during turtle season, Linnea felt Lovie’s presence and was comforted by it.
Hope began kicking her legs in excitement once they hit the beach. She was saying, “Beesh, beesh.” Linnea laughed again at the child’s precociousness. “You’re saying ‘beach,’ aren’t you? Well, okay. Let’s get to the beach!” She trotted quickly across the sand to where the sparkling sea rolled up to meet the shore.
It was a glorious morning of dipping in the water, squeezing sand in hands, letting Hope crawl anywhere she wanted, and helping her walk in her unsteady gait. The child was fearless. It was a joy to watch. The freedom and the sea were a tonic for them both. Their spirits soared like the pelicans flying overhead, and Linnea knew that morning beach walks would be paramount in their routine for the summer.
When at last they returned to the beach house, Linnea found Hope to be sweet and compliant. There wasn’t a mention of “Mama.” She bathed Hope and changed her into clean clothes. She sang nursery songs to her while she prepared lunch, and afterward brought her to the couch to read books. Hope loved books and was eager to learn new words.
Linnea didn’t remember how many books she read aloud. The last story she remembered was about a bunny in a great green room, a moon, mittens, and kittens. The last words she remembered saying were “Goodnight, noises everywhere.”
CARA RUSHED HOME, worried that she’d spent too long away. She’d finished her errands, then was surprised to receive a phone call from a prospective client. She’d pulled into a coffee shop for an impromptu conversation that resulted in new business. Cara felt like she was soaring on wings all across the Connector to the island. She did worry, however, how the two were faring on their first day alone together. She’d checked her phone a hundred times for any SOS texts from Linnea, but there were none.
When she entered the beach house, all was quiet. She looked at her watch. It was Hope’s naptime. When she stepped into the living room, she had to stifle the laugh. There on the sofa she saw Linnea fast asleep with Hope cuddled in her arms. Like two peas in a pod.
And more, Cara breathed in the comforting, heady scent of jasmine.
AFTER THE BEACH trip, Linnea’s transition into the beach house went seamlessly. In just one week, she and Hope were fast friends. Cara purchased a beach stroller that would allow Linnea to go on turtle team walks with Hope.
After two weeks, Linnea and Hope had developed a routine. Cara was able to go into her office and work without Hope crying to be with her. Linnea could hear her fingers tapping on the keyboard and the murmur of the occasional business phone call. Everyone felt at ease with the new arrangement. Proof of its success came the afternoon that Hope cried when Linnea left.
Early one morning Linnea was walking at a brisk pace along the shoreline, pushing Hope in the new stroller. One of her first jobs as a junior turtle team member had been to carry a plastic bag and pick up trash left behind on the beach. It had taught her at an early age to always toss garbage into the containers and never litter. Plastic was a scourge of the oceans. For her morning walks, she continued the tradition and carried a trash bag on the corner of the stroller.
It was a quiet morning on the beach. Only a few surfers were waiting for a wave in the fairly calm sea. Two spaniels chased balls tossed into the ocean. But she came to a sudden stop when she spied a long trail of tracks scarring the clean sweep of sand from the high-tide line all the way up to the dunes. Turtle tracks! Her heart pumping, she picked up speed. As she neared, she saw the unmistakable pattern the flippers made in the sand. She followed them, climbing the soft incline to a large circular section of disturbed sand at the top of the dune. Looking out again, she could see the outgoing tracks cross the incoming and continue all the way to the shoreline. She’d bet money there were eggs here.
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.