Beach House Reunion (Beach House #5)(81)

“But what about Cooper?”

“You said he was entering the Citadel?” When she nodded he said, “They do have a reputation for making a boy a man.”

“But he doesn’t want to go.”

“Then talk to him.”

Cara closed her eyes, inexplicably weary. “What a tangled web we weave . . .”

“When we practice to deceive,” he finished for her. “Who are we deceiving?”

“Not us. Palmer,” she said. “If I could just get him to recognize what he’s doing. To himself. To his family.”

“Who’s to say he doesn’t know? He might be so depressed he can’t change.”

“There’s that web.”

“Point well taken.”

Cara sipped her drink, braced by the bitterness and the chill of it. “Speaking of change,” she said, switching subjects, “I had another meeting today.”

“You’ve been a busy lady.”

“I went to the aquarium to see Toy and Big Girl.”

“How are they both doing? Fecundity reigns.”

“Very well, thank you,” she said, amused. “Actually, Toy made an interesting proposal. She asked if I would be interested in the new position of director of conservation.”

David put down his glass. “But isn’t that to be her new position?”

“It was. But she’s decided she doesn’t want it.”

“Really . . .” He considered this. “I thought she did. Is it because of the baby?”

Cara shook her head. “That was my first thought. The baby plays into it, I’m sure, but she said she’s come to realize that she doesn’t want to leave her position with the turtle hospital. That’s what she loves doing. So she’s decided to stay on at the hospital and offered me the position.”

“She offered it to you?”

“Yes. She said she had the authority. Now I have to decide if I want it.”

“And do you? Do you want the job?”

“I think I do. I could let my clients know in plenty of time for them to find a replacement. My ideas will be my farewell gift to them. My chief concern is Hope. Whether I should take a full-time job. I worry whether I’ll be able to handle working with a child at home. I’m new at it. And I did come here to be a stay-at-home mother. That was the plan.” She exhaled and looked into David’s eyes. He was listening, biding his time.

“Can I tell you something, and you have to promise you won’t think I’m a terrible mother?”

He laughed and said, “Sure.”

“I like working. I love coming downtown to meet with a client. I feel so alive. My brain is firing on all synapses. And when I work on my ideas, I feel energized, bursting with creativity. David, I get bored playing with Hope all day. That’s the simple truth. I don’t think I was cut out for it.”

“And you feel guilty.”

Cara put her cheek in her palm. “Yes.”

“Don’t.”

She made a face.

“Do you think you’re the first parent who feels guilty for going to work and leaving his or her child behind? Join the club. Don’t forget I was a single father after Heather’s mother died. She left me alone with a daughter who had anxiety problems. I didn’t have the luxury of deciding whether I would stay home with her or not. I had a career. A job to do to keep the family afloat. And so do you. Sometimes you just need to do what you have to do.” He raised his glass. “No guilt. No blame.” He took a sip of his drink, then put his glass back on the table.

“I’m hungry,” he said, and signaled for the waitress.

Cara sat quietly and considered what he’d said, as well as what Toy had said. If mama is happy, the family is happy. She didn’t need to belabor this decision. That wasn’t her style, anyway. Cara knew what she was going to do.

“I’m going to take the job,” she said.

David grinned. “Good! Congratulations.”

The waitress showed up with her pad and pen.

“Champagne,” he ordered.



Chapter Nineteen



An innate instinct leads hatchlings in the direction of the brightest light, which in nature is moonlight reflecting off the ocean. Lighting from man-made sources such as streetlights, city sky glow, lights from commercial establishments, beachfront homes, and pool lights disorient sea turtles. People on the beach carrying flashlights, lighting bonfires, and using landscape lighting can also disorient hatchlings and send them racing toward land and certain death.

SEPTEMBER CAME AND Cara felt the change of seasons in her marrow. The sky was still crisp blue, the air balmy. If she stepped into the ocean she knew it would feel like bathwater. But there was a subtle shift she couldn’t explain. There was the hint of fall in the air. And with September, the world of the island changed.

Peace was restored on the small island for its approximately four thousand residents. Tourists visited year-round, but the heavy toll came during the summer months. Cara, like every other resident, welcomed the easing of congestion. But the peace came at a price: with September came the peak of the active hurricane season. Right on schedule, a tropical storm was brewing in the Caribbean. Weather forecasters were watching this one and already creating computer programs of potential routes the storm could take.