Beach House Reunion (Beach House #5)(52)
“Cara!” Robert exclaimed as his expressive blue eyes moistened. “I didn’t know you were coming. No one told me.”
“It was last-minute.”
“And you waited in line?”
“Felt like old times,” she said, looking into his eyes. The silence that followed spoke volumes.
“But hey, you’re going to have a great time. You’ll see a few changes, but nothing major. Brett created a well-oiled machine. I just keep it going. Though I’ve got to confess, I sure do miss you handling the books. I try, but . . .” He shook his head.
She knew he was being modest. He’d been with Brett from the beginning and had helped build the business. It was her great joy to help Robert buy the company after Brett’s death.
“Business good?” she asked.
“Very. We keep growing. Did you see our new boat yet?” When she shook her head, he waved her closer to the ramp. “Come take a look. It’s a beauty,” he added, and she couldn’t miss the pride in his voice as they walked down the wooden ramp to the dock. Beside the Caretta was a slightly smaller, flashier blue-and-white pontoon boat.
“It’s fabulous,” Cara said, admiring the blue padded seat backs, something she and Brett had talked about. “What do you call it?”
Robert looked out at the boat and said, “The Salty Captain.”
Cara sighed. That was Robert’s nickname for Brett. “That’s perfect.” She looked at Robert. He had the wiry body of a seaman. His blond hair was salt-stiff, his tan deep and ruddy, and around his neck and up his arms were handcrafted macramé and beaded jewelry pieces made by his wife and daughter. Robert was a good man.
“You’re the new Salty Captain.”
His eyes sparkled with gratitude. “Aye, that I am,” he replied with a pirate’s growl. Then he looked at the large diver’s watch on his wrist. “And being captain, I have to get this boat moving. Let’s get on board.”
She and David took seats in the rear of the boat, steering clear of the two rowdy boys, who were pinching and jabbing at each other. Robert’s assistant, a stocky young woman with her brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, jumped to and from the boat with ease, if not grace, to untie the ropes. This had been Linnea’s job once upon a time. She had been a natural teacher, trained by Brett. Cara smiled, remembering the first time she watched Brett leap like Douglas Fairbanks, counting on his impeccable timing as he brought the boat out of dock. When the big engines roared to life the children on the boat all sat up, eyes wide, and leaned over the railings to watch the water churn. Robert guided the boat at a snail’s pace along the no-wake zone, until they entered the Intracoastal Waterway. Then he opened it up to full speed. The boys were, for the first time, speechless as the whitewater caps pushed out a wide wake and sprayed the air with droplets of water. Robert could spin a good tale as he explained how the Intracoastal Waterway extended from the Florida Keys all the way north to Boston. Cara listened and remembered how it had been a dream of hers and Brett’s to take that journey one day, maybe for their twenty-fifth anniversary.
Robert spoke to the children and adults alike with the passion of a teacher who loved his subject. As he talked about the dolphins, the sharks, and the different species of fish that swam in these waters, everyone could hear in his voice how much he loved all marine life. He stood with his shirttails flapping in the wind and his hands always moving as he showed them the intricacies of shells and pulled up live snapping crabs from the sea. As he educated them, he helped each of them understand what they could do to make a difference. He’d learned these lessons from Brett. Listening to Robert, she heard Brett’s expressions, his jokes, the passion that had guided his life.
David leaned closer and said, “If I come back in another life, I want to be that guy.”
She looked at him, his eyes sparkling like the water around him. He had no clue about all the memories flitting through her mind now. To all outward appearances, she sat calmly with a mild smile on her face, observing the scenery through her large, dark sunglasses.
“Why?”
“Look at him. He’s doing what he loves. What more can anyone ask from life?”
Cara saw that David was being sincere. He’d worked long and hard for many years, had been enormously successful, and now, a widower and a grandfather, looked at what life offered differently.
She turned her head and looked at Robert, but in her mind she saw Brett. He’d always known this was the life he wanted. There’d never been any question in his mind. He was happiest on the water, on the Caretta, teaching visitors to the lowcountry all about her charm. She was awash in memories as the boat swayed in the current.
At last they reached the small island of Capers. Robert pushed the growling engines up into the sandy edge of the beach. The engines quieted suddenly, and he let out the anchor.
In the resulting peace, Cara could hear the gulls cry overhead and the sound of the waves lapping the shore and against the boat. Robert lowered the gangplank, and in friendly order, everyone disembarked. Cara brought up the rear. David stepped off first and stood in the watery sand of the shoreline, then reached for Rory, then Hope. Cara took a breath and stepped once again onto Capers Island.
Capers had always been her and Brett’s place. They’d courted here, made love here for the first time, and returned many times over their ten years of marriage. Miles of white sand sparkled under a brilliant blue sky, welcoming her back. The tide was low, so the beach was streaked with long gullies that coursed through the sand like rivers. Cara knew Rory and Hope would love splashing in the sun-heated pools. She’d always felt a million miles away on Capers Island. Today, however, she was crowded by memories.