Beach House Reunion (Beach House #5)(90)

“They shaved your head,” she said sorrowfully, shaking her head.

Cooper looked at her drowsily. “Yeah. I’m a knob.”

Linnea tried to laugh, but it came out more of a choked sob.

Cooper’s face scrunched up, and it embarrassed her to see him cry. “I . . . I didn’t try to hurt myself,” he forced out. “I swear I didn’t.”

“I know, honey,” Julia said, wiping the tears from his face with a handkerchief. “Of course you didn’t.”

“What happened?” asked Palmer.

Cooper’s eyes darted to the bottom of the bed where his father stood. Linnea saw fear shift in his eyes.

“I don’t know. Sir.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know? You OD’d! You were doing drugs.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Palmer, let’s not get into that now,” Julia said tersely, delivering Palmer a fierce look. If she were a tigress, she would have been snarling.

“This is going to be a problem,” Palmer told Cooper. “I did what I could about that DUI. But this . . .” He shook his head and gripped the metal railing of the bed. “Hell. This is the kind of thing that can get you bounced from the Citadel.”

“Daddy,” Linnea said sharply. She leaned over her brother toward her father, tears flooding her eyes. “Aren’t you listening? He doesn’t want to go there.”

“It’s okay, Lin,” Cooper said, reaching for her.

“Sure he does. Tell them, Cooper. Tell them you want to go back.”

Cooper held his sister’s hand and looked squarely at his father. “No,” he said in a steady voice. “I don’t. I’m not going back.”

Palmer leaned forward, staring into his son’s eyes. “What was that?”

Cara stepped into the argument. “Palmer, don’t.”

“I’m not going back,” Cooper said again, with a fierceness born of desperation and determination.

The room fell into a stunned silence.

Palmer stared hard at his son. He said in a gravelly voice, roughened by emotion, “I’m disappointed in you.”

Cooper’s eyes reflected his crushed spirit. His whole body seemed to go limp, and Linnea realized he’d been holding himself stiffly the whole time they were there. She stared at her father, equally crushed. At any time such cutting words would be horrible, but now, when Cooper was so fragile, they were plain cussed cruel.

“How could you say such a thing to sweet Cooper?” she cried.

Cara faced her brother with Hope in her arms. “I’m disappointed in you!” she told him. “And I know Mama would be, too.”

Palmer swung his head around and glared, shocked at her words. Then, without a word, he turned on his heel and walked away.



Chapter Twenty-One



Marine debris comes in many forms, ranging from small plastic cigarette butts to 4,000-pound derelict fishing nets. Plastics in the ocean take days, weeks, and even decades to break down. Debris may also be mistaken for food by marine animals. Nets and fishing line negligently left in the sea trap animals, which leads to injury and death.

CARA SIGHED WITH relief when she turned off the highway toward Tryon, North Carolina. The traffic had been brutally slow. As feared, it was bumper-to-bumper with cars, campers, and trucks with southern license plates fleeing the hurricane. Hope was good, considering, crying herself to sleep for this final leg of the journey. They’d caravanned, pausing at gas stations for pit stops when the baby refused to settle. David was eminently patient, never checking his watch. Cara was grateful to be following David’s massive Range Rover. He took it slow along winding, wooded roads through small mountain communities. Small shops and restaurants, each more charming than the last, lined the roads. From the looks of it, many people were stocking up after a long journey.

At last he turned off the main road to a narrow road that led through a bold wooden gate. Up they climbed, deeper into the woods, past tall hardwoods, dogwoods, pines, and Cara’s much-loved rhododendrons. When they reached the top of the hill, suddenly the land cleared and in the center of soft green grass sat a massive log house. It was stunning, surrounded by broad porches replete with rocking chairs overlooking breathtaking long-range mountain views. A fleet of thunderclouds hovered low and fat, promising strong wind, thunder, and lightning. Cara drove around the circular gravel driveway to park near one of the front porches. She pulled the parking brake, then slowly climbed from the car. She leaned against the door, weary beyond words. She felt she had little left to give.

She heard the other car door close and turned her head to see David walking toward her across the gravel. He wore boots, dark jeans, and a white shirt rolled up his arms but his face appeared tired from the long, stressful drive.

“We made it,” he said, stopping before her.

She offered him a crooked smile and gestured at the huge house. “You think you could squeeze me in?” she asked, teasing him with his own words.

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “How are you?”

“Tired. Sad. In need of a bath and sleep, in that order.”

“And Hope?”

“Asleep in the backseat.”

“We’re all pretty tired. We can rest now.”

Her gaze swept the magnificent log home with its long mountain views, the fenced pastures and barn. “It’s stunning,” she said. “I feel a million miles away from the beach. And from the storm. Thank you for inviting us to come.”