Beach House Reunion (Beach House #5)(40)

“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.”