Beach House Reunion (Beach House #5)(97)

Julia’s eyes also widened. This part of the story Cara had never shared.

“Just that once. But I’ll never forget the humiliation. It’s hard to speak of it even now. But it’s important you know.” She shuddered. “The ghost of that horrible man still lives there, I swear it. That’s why I don’t like to step foot in that house.”

“I know,” Linnea said in a soft voice. “I felt him too.”

“Palmer certainly did,” said Julia. “He hated the son of a bitch.” She ducked her head. “Excuse my French.”

“But that means Daddy is like him,” Linnea said in a quiet voice.

Cara straightened, unable to let Linnea think that about her brother. “No, he’s not,” she said with conviction. “He proved to you that he’s not at all like him. He was stuck in a family pattern. A bad habitual resolution of his anger and his deep sense of failure.”

“But—”

“Listen to me,” Cara interrupted. “Don’t you understand what happened? Last night your father broke that cycle!” She paused, trying to find the right words so that Linnea would comprehend the vital truth. “When my father hit me, my mother cowered in the background. I looked to her for help.” Cara swallowed. “But she didn’t come to my rescue.” She released a long sigh. A lot of water had flowed under that bridge.

“I understand her reasons now, but then I felt abandoned. Alone. But, Julia,” she said, focusing on her sister-in-law. “You intervened! You stood up for your daughter. You said no.” Cara felt her emotion welling up. “I am so proud of you. And of Palmer, too.”

“Palmer?” asked Julia with indignation.

“Yes. You not only shamed him. You forced him to see who he was becoming.”

Julia’s eyes glimmered in understanding. “His father.”

“Right,” Cara said. “The one man he never wanted to be like. Don’t you see, Linnea, if we didn’t stop this cycle, Cooper would treat women like his father did. He’d become the worst of Palmer.”

“Not Coop . . .” Linnea said, shaking her head.

“Yes. That’s the power of the cycle. Honey, you didn’t know Palmer at Cooper’s age. He was every bit as sweet. And conniving . . . Let’s not make Cooper out to be an angel here. He’s made some pretty big mistakes, for himself and for his family. He has to take responsibility for his own actions. And you”—she looked at Linnea and then Julia with a meaningful gaze—“you have to let him fight those battles. And not try to fix things for him.”

The women went quiet, listening to her.

“But the work isn’t done yet. We have to help Palmer find the strength to really change.” Cara looked at Linnea with an unwavering eye. “This is the time for understanding. And compassion. And love for your father.” She turned to Julia. “And your husband. I assure you, he doesn’t feel any of those emotions for himself. I wager he feels pretty badly right now. He’s hit rock bottom. And that’s good. That will help motivate him to break the cycle for himself.”

A gentle breeze wafted through the air, carrying the scent of jasmine. Cara inhaled the sweetness, eyes closed; opening them again, she saw Julia and Linnea, her family. She leaned forward and stretched out her arms to the women. It was impossible to keep the optimism from her voice.

“Are we in this together?”

Linnea and Julia reached out to take her offered hands to form a united circle.



Chapter Twenty-Three



Thanks to the efforts of experts like Sally Murphy, SCDNR, shrimp boats in the United States and countries that export shrimp to the United States are required by law to use turtle excluder devices (TEDs), trap-like doors on nets that allow turtles to escape. South Carolina was the first state to mandate TEDs.

HURRICANE IRMA WAS a fading memory. The floodwaters had abated and residents had returned home. Cara stood on the beach where, only a week earlier, rolling dunes draped in golden, cascading sea oats had dominated the border. It was stunning to see them all gone, wiped clean away by the force of the storm. The previous year’s hurricane had leveled the dunes too, but this time there was nothing left. The rippled sand stretched flat, littered with trunks of palm trees and driftwood and gouged by an unusually large number of gullies.

Cara wrapped her arms around herself and stared out at the wild beauty of the wide open beach, untrammeled by crowds, colored towels, and umbrellas. She could see miles away tonight, the visibility was so clear. The sun had set on another day, leaving the earth blanketed in a soft lavender and purple light. The sea turtles were gone, she thought, looking out at the swells. It had been a good year. Most of the nests had emerged by the time the dunes were swept away. John and Linnea were gone, too. Flown off to San Francisco. That Palmer had shaken John’s hand at the airport spoke volumes. There was no assurance that they would end up together for life, but Cara was hopeful. It was a happy ending to this chapter in their lives, she thought. And, perhaps, the first chapter of what was to come.

Cooper, too, was turning a page. He’d dropped out of the Citadel and was living at home, enrolled in the College of Charleston. He was also in therapy—as were Palmer and Julia. There were many changes coming for the Rutledge family. Significant transitions.

Which was where Cara came in.