The Summer Wind (Lowcountry Summer)

by Mary Alice Monroe

  Carson wasn’t surprised to hear that. She’d read that the Dolphin Research Center had a program for wounded warriors. Yet, when she thought of a wounded warrior, she thought of someone with physical injuries.

  After an awkward silence Taylor said in a softer tone, “I know what you’re thinking. Where’s the wound, right? You don’t see the injury.”

  Carson couldn’t reply. Blunt though it was, he was right.

  “You can’t see all wounds,” Taylor said. “Especially not in this war. Sure, some of us in the Wounded Warrior program have missing limbs, or are in a wheelchair. Some have serious burns. But all of us have PTSD.”

  Carson knew quite a bit about post–traumatic stress disorder because she’d studied the symptoms after Delphine’s accident on the dock. It was a debilitating condition that followed a terrifying event. She’d had bad nightmares after the fire that killed her mother, and she’d tucked away that traumatic memory in her mind for years, only to begin to deal with it now. After Delphine’s accident she had been stricken with guilt and regret, but she’d been able to move on. She’d read how PTSD left one feeling emotionally numb, especially toward people they were once close to. Learning that had helped her to understand Nate’s angry behavior toward her.

  “I think my nephew, Nate, had PTSD from the accident.”

  “What kind of accident?”

  “Actually, it involved a dolphin. Delphine. She used to come by our dock on Sullivan’s Island. One morning she got caught in the fishing line and was badly hurt. Luckily we got her to a rehab facility in Florida, but Nate was pretty traumatized by it. You see, he was the one who’d put out the fishing lines.”

  Taylor turned a sympathetic glance toward Nate. “Poor little guy. He must have taken it all pretty hard.”

  “So did I,” Carson added, her voice catching unexpectedly. She cleared her throat. “Joan’s doing a wonderful job bringing him out of it.”

  “She’s good at that.”

  “What made you want to start training dolphins?” she asked Taylor.

  “A lot of it has to do with that little dolphin out there.” He jutted his chin to indicate the lagoon.

  “Which one?”

  Taylor scanned the water, then reached out to point to a smaller dolphin. “That dolphin swimming near the dock closest to us. That’s Jax.”

  “The little guy. I noticed that he’s missing part of his tail fluke.”

  “Yeah, Jax is a real survivor. He was just a calf when he was found near dead in the water near Jacksonville. That’s how he got the name. They captured him and brought him to Gulf World in Panama City. The tip of his dorsal fin, half his left fluke, and part of his pectoral fin were bitten off before he got away. You can still see the scars left by the shark’s teeth on his flank. From the measurement, they figured he was attacked by a bull shark.”

  Carson shuddered, remembering her own near miss with a bull shark earlier that summer.

  “It’s a good guess Jax’s mother was killed trying to defend her calf. They saved his life at Gulf World, then he was placed here for a permanent home.”

  “He wasn’t released?”

  “He never would’ve made it out in the wild. Not only because of his injuries, but because without a mother to teach him the ropes, he’d starve or be shark bait. He was only about a year or so when he came here. Now Jax is part of the gang. He has his injuries, of course. And he’s younger than the others and still has some growing to do, so he doesn’t jump as high as the other males.” He grinned. “But Jax doesn’t care. There’s nothing he can’t do. He jumps, leaps, does all the routines right with the pack. Here’s the thing. The other dolphins don’t see Jax as injured. And Jax doesn’t see himself as injured.” He swallowed hard. “That says it all.”

  Carson heard the emotion in his voice and understood why Taylor felt such a strong connection to the brave young dolphin.

  “The program directors gave us this,” Taylor said, reaching up to pull out a silver chain from under his shirt. He turned so she could see a small silver dolphin tail fin attached to the chain; the left tail fluke was missing. “That’s Jax’s fluke.”

  Carson reached out and took the small silver fin between her two fingers, tracing the intricate lines. She looked up at Taylor.

  “Aunt Carson!”

  Carson had been so caught up in Taylor’s story, she hadn’t noticed that Nate had finished his session. She was surprised at how fast the time had flown and embarrassed that she hadn’t given Nate her full attention. Nate ran up to her, eyes aglow from his session, but stopped short at seeing Taylor and Thor at her side. Instantly he grew wary.

  “Nate, you did great! I’m so proud of you,” Carson exclaimed. “Come closer, I want you to meet my new friend Taylor. He was a Marine. And guess what? He trains the dolphins.”

  Nate looked at his feet without a word.

  Taylor didn’t seem the least bothered by Nate’s silence. “Hey, Nate. Do you want to meet Thor?”

  Nate looked at the dog. “Is Thor the dog’s name?” Nate asked.

  “Yes.”

  Nate studied the dog a moment, then asked, “Can I pet him?”

  “Sure.”

  Nate approached the dog slowly. Thor looked patiently at the boy and remained calm while enduring the petting.

  “How much does he weigh?”

  “One hundred and twelve pounds of pure muscle,” Taylor answered with a hint of pride. “He loves to swim in the ocean.”

  “With the dolphins?”

  “No, they don’t come close enough in the wild. But he would if he could.”

  Nate petted the dog again, then, his curiosity sated, turned to Carson. “I’m hungry.”

  “I’ll bet you are after all that swimming. Let’s head back home and think about going someplace special for dinner. It’s our last night.”

  “Why not let me take you to dinner?” Taylor offered. “Since it’s your last night and all.”

  Carson was taken aback by the invitation. It was completely unexpected. Taylor waited for his answer.

  “What do you think, Nate?”

  Nate looked away and shrugged.

  Inside her gut, warning bells were going off, telling her to beg off with some excuse. Ignoring them, she said, “All right, that’s real nice of you. I should warn you, though, we’ll need to go someplace that serves food Nate will eat. He’s pretty picky.”

  “I’m hungry now,” Nate said.

  “I am, too, pal,” Taylor told Nate. “Why don’t we get cleaned up and I’ll come by your place, and we’ll go right out to eat. The Shipwreck is close by and they have a pretty standard menu. It’ll be an early dinner or a late lunch. Whatever you want to call it.”

  You can call it anything but a date, Carson thought to herself as she smiled back at Taylor.

  “Okay, Nate, it’s time to turn off the game,” Carson called out. “Bedtime.”

  “No, not yet. Just a little longer,” Nate whined.

  “We’re almost done with this level,” Taylor added, not taking his eyes from the screen.

  “You’re not helping,” Carson told Taylor, raising an eyebrow in hopes of transmitting some sort of silent adult signal.

  Taylor turned his head briefly from the screen and shot her a teasing glance, then went back to the video game.

  Carson stood sipping coffee in the small galley kitchen, watching the big man and the slight boy sitting together on the futon in front of the game screen. Life was full of surprises, Carson thought, but Taylor took the cake. It was surprising enough to discover that he trained dolphins. Then he asked her and Nate to dinner, and they’d had a lovely time. But the last thing she’d expected was for Taylor and Nate to become such pals. Who knew they’d bond over video games? Nate was enthralled by his new hero—Taylor knew all the cheat codes.

  She was also surprised by her attraction for him. Taylor had shown up in pressed pants and a long-sleeved shirt. She always was a pushover for a man in crisp attire. His shi
rt was unbuttoned at the collar and the bright white contrasted with his deep tan. Dinner had been pleasant, if a bit awkward with Nate. It wasn’t a date—Carson kept reminding herself—but it felt like it could have been if they’d been alone. The possibility made her nervous. They were just friends, she told herself again. Nothing to feel guilty about. But why, then, did she feel just that?

  She reached for her phone and checked her messages. Still no word from Blake. Damn, how long was he going to be out in the field? She needed to talk to him, to hear his voice. To feel a connection with him. She also felt the need to send Taylor packing.

  “Sorry, guys, time to break it up. We’ve got an early start tomorrow. No complaints,” she said in automatic response to Nate’s immediate outcry. “We’re going to see Delphine, remember?”

  The mention of Delphine was enough to assuage Nate’s outburst. He sighed, more for show, then promptly saved the game and relinquished his remote.

  “I think you’ve got it down pat, buddy,” Taylor assured him.

  “You get in your pajamas and brush your teeth while I get your futon ready, okay?” Carson said.

  Nate rose slump-shouldered and began walking away.

  “What do you say to Taylor?” Carson asked, stopping him.

  “Thank you,” he said dutifully.

  Taylor smiled. “It was nice meeting you.”

  Nate didn’t respond. He hurried into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

  Carson looked after Nate’s retreating figure with affection. “He really did appreciate it, Taylor. It’s rare for him to get along so well with a stranger. He thinks you walk on water. How did you learn to play so well?”

  “I’m not that good,” Taylor said modestly. “I played a lot of virtual reality games for PTSD therapy.”

  “You played video games for therapy?” The idea seemed out there.

  “Well, the idea is that by reenacting a traumatic experience or confronting an irrational fear in a safe place, we’ll become used to that experience. Or fear. The trauma doesn’t disappear, but it becomes manageable. It worked for me.”

  “And the cheat codes?” she asked.

  “Ah, well.” He rubbed his jaw. “Those I figured out on my own.”

  She offered a smile. “I’ve got to get Nate to bed. Do you need to go?”

  “I can stick around.”

  “Oh,” she said, surprised. “Uh, okay. I’ll just be a few minutes. Do you mind waiting outside on the patio? There are chairs out there.” She pointed to the futon and said in way of explanation, “This is Nate’s bed.”

  “Sure,” Taylor said good-naturedly. “I’ll grab a smoke.”

  Lord, she thought to herself as she followed Nate into the bedroom. What was going on here? She really didn’t need to help Nate much. He was nine and had his routine down. She’d thought it was an obvious hint for Taylor to leave. Going out to the restaurant with him had gone well—and innocently—enough. Sitting on the bench chatting with him in public was okay, too. But being alone with him tonight in the cottage was another thing altogether. Especially with the undercurrent zinging between them.

  Once Nate was ready for bed, he and Carson returned to the main room. Nate hopped onto the futon, and she tucked him in. Looking at his tanned face and watching him yawn, Carson thought how much he’d returned to the boy who’d leaped into the Cove and swam like a fish earlier in the summer. The boy who saved his smiles for her. Coming here had been the right thing to do. Thank you, Harper, she thought to herself, for coming up with the idea of bringing Nate here. And thank you, Dora, for allowing it. She hoped they could keep up the good vibes when they got back to Sea Breeze. A lot, she knew in her heart, depended on what happened with Delphine tomorrow.

  “Good night, Nate. I’ll just be outside.”

  “Aunt Carson?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you think Delphine will remember me?”

  She paused. She’d wondered where his thoughts lay concerning the dolphin. Now she knew he was worried. Perhaps even guilt-ridden. She sat down on the futon beside him.

  “I can’t say for sure, but I think she will. She’s very smart. She remembered me.”

  “But she loves you.”

  Carson felt her heart twinge. “Yes, Delphine loves me. But she loves you, too.”

  Nate yawned the words: “I love her too. I always will. Even if I never see her again after tomorrow.”

  Out of the mouths of babes. Carson felt love bloom in her heart for the boy. He must have discussed this with Joan. This boy understood the difference between a wild dolphin and a dolphin in a facility better than most adults.

  “I couldn’t have expressed my own feelings any better,” she told him. “Good night, sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

  “There aren’t any bedbugs,” he told her matter-of-factly. “I checked.”

  Carson laughed lightly at the literal workings of his brilliant mind. “Good night,” she said again, and then she went to the door, turning off the light as she exited.

  Outdoors she could hear the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore. She saw his broad-shouldered silhouette standing on their patio, staring out at the Gulf. A trail of smoke rose from his cigarette.

  “Here you are,” she said in way of announcement.

  Taylor tossed the cigarette to the ground and stomped on it.

  “I should be going.”

  “Okay,” she said, not sure if it was relief or disappointment she felt. He walked closer to her, and in the shadows she could make out the contours of his face—his strong, Roman nose, his full lips. God, he had a beautiful face, she thought.

  “I had a nice time,” he said.

  “Me, too. And so did Nate,” she hastened to add. “It was nice of you to take us out on our last night.”

  An awkward silence. The night’s sultry summer breeze felt like a caress against her skin. It was heavy with the scents of the sea and a sweetness that had musky notes. She felt his closeness, the slim margin of space between them narrowing as they imperceptibly drew closer and desire welled up, unbidden.

  Like the dolphin and the dog earlier on the dock, they inched toward each other, each tentative, almost shy. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the tug. In a single move their lips touched. The fullness of his lips cushioned hers. His arms encircled her, so strong, as they pressed harder together.

  This kiss felt so good.

  Yet it felt so wrong.

  Carson opened her eyes, stiffening her back. She put her hands against Taylor’s chest and drew away, the light dimming in her eyes. She looked out at the moonlight to allow her breath to slow and gather her wits. What was going on in her head, she wondered. Her body enjoyed the kiss. It wasn’t like her to not simply let go with her feelings. The old Carson would have kissed this man good and hard. She wanted him. Yet tonight, even a small kiss had felt like a betrayal.

  “Carson?” Taylor’s voice was tentative but he held on to her forearms.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, unsure of how to explain her feelings. “I . . . I can’t do this. I’m dating someone.”

  “Oh,” he said, and, letting go of her arms, took a step back.

  Carson blew out a plume of air and lifted her long shank of hair from her back. “This is so weird. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Are you engaged?”

  “No,” she replied, shaking her head. “No,” she said again.

  “I’m glad.”

  Carson didn’t want to encourage him. “But we have this understanding. It’s kind of exclusive.”

  “I respect that,” Taylor said.

  A bird called out in the night, a melancholy sound.

  “I better go.”

  “Look, Taylor,” she said, stopping him. “I’m really glad I got to know you. You’re a great guy.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “And I meant it when I said if you’re near Sullivan’s Island, look me up. We can be friends, can’t we?”

  He o
ffered her his crooked grin. “Good luck tomorrow with Delphine.”

  Carson watched him walk away with a pang of regret. Taylor had never answered her question.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sullivan’s Island

  The moon was a slim crescent in the velvety sky. Venus shone bright to the north. Harper sat at the edge of the dock, her feet dangling in the cool water, and looked up at the night sky, thinking how much she loved being here, sitting under a sky that mirrored the South Carolina flag. When did this love affair with the lowcountry begin? she wondered.

  She kicked her legs back and forth, feeling the power of the current. She’d always enjoyed her visits here, but when she was a child she thought of Sea Breeze as a kind of camp. A place to run wild and have fun with the other girls. Someplace that one returned home from. Like Dora had said, being at Sea Breeze wasn’t real life.

  Or was it? This summer Harper had returned as a woman—despite Mamaw’s insistence on continuing to call them her “summer girls.” In the past months Harper had come to appreciate that the slower-paced life here in the lowcountry was indeed real. It was just very different from what she knew in New York, or in the Hamptons, or England. Or, she thought, was this summer only a respite from the pressing demands and expectations that she would have to face at summer’s end?

  She heard a footfall on the dock, felt its vibration, and turning her head, she saw a dark silhouette coming toward her.

  “Dora?” she called out.

  “Found you!” Dora exclaimed, stepping down to the lower floating dock. “What are you doing out here all alone?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Want some company?”

  “Love some.” Harper patted the dock beside her.

  Harper caught the scent of Dora’s floral perfume as she settled beside her and slipped her legs into the black water.

  “Seems strange to be out here without Carson,” Dora said.

  “Yeah. I half expect to see Delphine pop her head out of the water. Poor Delphine . . .” In her mind’s eye she saw the sweet smile of the dolphin and felt a prick of conscience for what the consequences of their actions had cost it.