A Lowcountry Wedding (41 page)

Carson clutched her phone tighter, stunned by the generous praise.

“You’ve got the credentials. But more than that we all thought you were a great fit. Your enthusiasm, your personal story. We’re a small group. Like a family. And we all agreed you’d be a great addition. I hope you’ll join us.”

Carson sat still as a stone, dazed. “You’re offering me the job?”

Cyrus laughed. “Yes, Carson. We’re offering you the job.”

Carson couldn’t talk to anyone quite yet. Not even Blake. She had to hold this news close, to slowly digest it before she could share it. She slipped out of her dress and into yoga pants and a fleece jacket. The soft fabric felt like a security blanket around her. She tucked her hands into her pockets and walked out the back door to the dock. Dusk was just setting in, lending a lavender cast to sky that was reflected in the water. It was a mystical time, those fleetingly brief moments before day ended and night began.

She sat looking at the racing water below the dock, struggling to find the words she’d need to tell Blake of her decision. To thank him. He’d never lost hope. He’d worked tirelessly by her side, leaving no stone unturned. His faith in her—in the two of them working together—had convinced her they needed to be together. More than she needed any job. She would stay in
the lowcountry and marry her lowcountry boy. Her mind was at last in sync with her heart.

From below the dock came the unmistakable sound of air pushing out from a blowhole. Startled, Carson gripped the dock railing and bent over to see Delphine swimming below. There was no question it was her. Even in the lavender light, the sorry scars were visible.

Carson hurried to the lower floating dock. Delphine spotted her and immediately brought her large gray head out from the dark water, revealing her limpid dark eyes. Her mouth was open, revealing rows of pointed teeth. Carson stood at the edge of the dock, close to Delphine, staring down at her. But she didn’t speak. Did not call out her name.

Delphine tilted on her side and swam leisurely alongside the dock, exposing her belly. Carson chuckled to herself, amazed at how bloated Delphine had become. Blake had confirmed that the neonate Carson had been called to on the shore last week was, in fact, not Delphine’s baby, and Carson was thrilled to see that Delphine looked happy and pregnant as ever. She was likely to give birth soon, which was a risky business in the wild. There were sharks, for one thing, and other threats. Carson wished she could be there for the birth, to witness and to support her friend.

But Carson knew there was one way she could help Delphine. As with her decision with Blake, her heart was in sync with her mind. With a final look at Delphine’s beguiling face, Carson turned and, without a word, walked away.

Delphine made a series of clicking noises and whistles. She splashed the water with her rostrum to show her displeasure.
Carson couldn’t understand the language of the whistles. No human could. She only knew that dolphins were smart and excelled at communication. Underwater they released myriad vocalizations with meaning, such as a signature whistle for a newborn calf that was akin to a name. Throughout the waterway, the dolphins maintained family and community bonds through sound.

Yet, in her own humble way, Carson could understand the
emotion
of Delphine’s sounds. Her
eh eh eh
noises when she was happy; the clicks and guttural growls when she was not. And the whistles—high-pitched queries, short bursts of surprise, and now the plaintive calls of beckoning. Oh, yes, Carson heard and understood the heartbreak. Tears ran down her cheeks.

This was the moment of truth for Carson. There was no going back on the decisions she’d made today. She’d given her word that she would help Delphine remain wild. She’d also given her word to Blake that she would be his wife and settle here in the lowcountry. And, too, she’d promised herself that she would stay sober, true to herself. A lot of promises, she realized. These promises would be the foundation upon which she’d build her new life.

With her heart filled with lavender light, she walked toward Sea Breeze. Her footfalls reverberated on the dock with the force of her steps. She loved Delphine enough to keep walking away. Only when she reached the door of the house did Carson dare to turn and look back. Delphine was cloaked in the silvery shadows, but Carson could still hear the dolphin’s mournful whistles and clicks.

Inside the house, sounds of dinner preparations and conversation
sang out from the kitchen. Carson remained standing at the door, listening, chilled to the bone, until, at last, the whistles stopped. A deep quiet descended in the purple sky.

Only then did Carson walk to the center of the porch and peer out over the water of the Cove. In the dim light she could barely make out the sight of a dolphin’s silvery dorsal fin far out in the purpling water. A single dolphin, swimming farther away down the creek toward home.

“Good-bye, Delphine.”

In another house on Sullivan’s Island, Mamaw stood at the window staring out at the moonlit Cove. Her long white gown appeared gauzy in the filtered light. One hand lay against the window glass, cool to the touch. Tonight, however, instead of being drawn to the water, her attention was on the opposite shore where the deep shadows appeared looming and unfathomable, like the thoughts running through her head.

“Marietta, you seem troubled.” Girard came up behind her to rest his hands on her shoulders. “Care to talk about it?”

She felt his hand, so strong and so comforting, and leaned back against him. He rested his chin on top of her head.

“It’s Imogene. We played cards today and you’ll never guess what the prize was.”

“I give up.”

“The cottage.”

“The cottage?
Your
cottage?”

“Yep.” She laughed lightly at the reality of how high the stakes had truly been.

“Save me from the suspense. Who won?”

She turned in his arms, slipping hers around Girard’s neck. “You had to ask? Me, of course.”

Girard chuckled and his gaze was admiring. “I never should have doubted you.”

Marietta dropped her hands to his chest, patting over his heart. She thought about Imogene’s face when she’d called out,
Gin!
The obvious defeat, and something more . . . a complete and utter sense of loss.

“I’m so fortunate to have you in my life. I’d be terribly lonely without you,” Marietta told him. “Poor Imogene. Despite her British stiff upper lip, she is suffering. It’s been very hard for her to put Jeffrey into the Memory Center. After fifty years of marriage, it feels to her like a divorce. Or even a death. Only she can’t mourn him, which leaves her with no closure whatsoever. It’s no wonder she wants to be near Harper now. She’s her only family.”

“Doesn’t she have a daughter in New York?”

“Georgiana?” Mamaw sniffed. “She’s a cold one. Imogene would find little comfort there. No, it’s Harper she needs. And now with the baby coming, it’s a lifeline.” Mamaw turned to look again out the window toward Sea Breeze. “Imogene is desperate to be in the cottage. It’s become a fixation in her mind. She can afford to move anywhere in the world, but all she can see is that small, insignificant cottage.”

“Not so insignificant in her mind.”

“No, you’re right about that. And there I am, roosting in it like a fat hen when it was Imogene who was the goose that laid the golden egg in the first place. Without her, we’d all be living somewhere else. Seems rather heartless of me not to let her
move into the cottage. I could take the guest room in the main house. I should. After all, I spend most nights here anyway.”

“I have another idea.”

Mamaw looked up quickly.

“Why not move in here with me?”

“Move in? With you!” Mamaw held up one hand to her chest, genuinely aghast at Girard’s suggestion.

“Why not? We both know you don’t want to stay in the guest room at Sea Breeze. You said yourself you’d feel like a third wheel, always in the way. And I’m rattling around in this big old house by myself. Moving in together makes sense.”

“I suppose, when you put it in that light, it does.” But she was still caught off-balance.

Sensing her hesitation, Girard pressed on. “You do like it here, don’t you? It’s a rather nice house,” he said modestly of his impressive home, larger than Sea Breeze. “I know Sea Breeze will always have a special place in your heart. That this house won’t be the same. But you won’t be far. You can look out the window and there it is. You’ll still be close to Harper, Dora, and Carson.”

She reached up to place her palm against his cheek. “You are the dearest man.”

“But I don’t want you to do this if it makes you at all uncomfortable, Marietta. I wouldn’t want you to be embarrassed in front of your friends.”

Mamaw laughed and shook her head. “Hardly. They’d be terribly jealous.”

His lips twitched with amusement. Then his face grew still. “I have another idea. A proposal, if you will. I’m only ever truly
happy when you’re here with me. And I want you here with me every day. Every night. Isn’t that love? Isn’t that the basis of a good marriage?” Girard took her hands. “Marietta, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“Marriage?” Mamaw was utterly floored.

“Of course. Unless you’d rather live in sin,” he added wryly.

Marietta laughed. Her heart felt infused with the moonlight, as though it could soar right from her body directly into the heavens. She smiled at this old friend who had reappeared as a gift to her in the later years of her life.

“Oh, Girard, my friend, lover, neighbor. I love you. With all my heart. But marriage? I don’t want some fool snickering about a triple wedding. At our age. As if . . .”

“Why not?” Girard said with a twinkle in his eye. “Apparently, you can wear white.”

She slapped his chest, blushing. “Oh, don’t remind me of what I said. I’m so ashamed.”

“Wear red, if you have a mind to. Just marry me, Marietta. I’ve loved you from the first moment I saw you all those years ago. You know that.”

Marietta nodded as a wry smile eased across her face. “I suspected. And I daresay Edward did, too. He loathed you. Kept a gun by the door in case he saw you sneaking around.”

“You’re kidding,” Girard said unsurely.

“Of course I’m kidding.” She paused. “Or am I?” Marietta laughed again, then looked up and cupped his face in her hand. “Dearest Girard, I don’t want to get married again,” she said gently. “It’s all so complicated at our age. Your children will be up in arms, claiming I’m after your money.”

“What money? I’ve given them just about everything
already. The only thing they still have their greedy eyes on is the property in the Adirondacks.”

“What? You still have that gorgeous, virginal property up North?”

“Yes.”

“Girard, that land is priceless! Invaluable to the wildlife in that overdeveloped area. You know what you have to do. Tell me you do.”

“If you’re suggesting I put it into conservation, lock, stock, and barrel, like I did with my property in South Carolina, my children will disinherit me. They’ve been after me for years to sell it to developers. They’ll make a fortune. Though I have to wonder how much money do they need.”

“The little vultures.” She saw his brows furrow and was instantly contrite. “Did I say that out loud? Sorry.”

“Don’t change the subject. I believe I just asked you to marry me.”

“Must we get married? I’m inclined to go with your other suggestion. To live in sin.”

Girard barked out a laugh. “You’d do that?”

“Of course I would! I’m a modern woman, haven’t you heard? No more Emily Post for me.”

“I’m fine with that. If that’s what you really want.”

“It is.”

“You drive a hard bargain. You press me to offer a second proposal.”

“What proposal is that?”

“Oh, just something that might appeal to your pirate’s blood.” He tugged her closer against him and smiled leeringly. “A bounty.”

Marietta was intrigued. “I’m listening.”

“What would you say to a swap? My land in the Adirondacks for your consent to marriage.”

“What?” Marietta was stunned and confused. “What do you mean?”