The Summer Girls (14 page)

Devlin laughed and took a swig of his beer. “I knew I liked her.”

“
Please,
” Carson said with a sorry chuckle. She could feel the liquor working its magic, loosening the tension. “Spare me. Mamaw’s not here to stop me from wiping the floor with you.”

“That I’d like to see.” Devlin let his arm slide around Carson’s shoulders and he leaned in close to her again. “How about we forget about your sisters and take off?”

Her brows furrowed and she turned her head. His blue eyes were staring straight into hers with a seductive glint. She wouldn’t mind going home with Devlin, she thought. It had been a while since she’d been with a man, and Lord
knew she’d dreamed of being with Devlin many times back when she wasn’t legal.

“Stop sniffin’ around me, you ol’ horndog. You just told me you had the hots for my sister.”

“What is it about you Muir girls?” he said with a slow smile. “I’m just a fool for you.”

“You’re a fool, I’ll give you that,” Carson said teasingly. She drew back and stood, then felt the floor sway. She wobbled in her heels and grabbed his shoulder. “Time for me to go.”

“I’ll drive you home.”

Carson looked into his eyes and realized he was more drunk than she was. “I’m with Harper.”

“Oh, she’ll be fine,” Devlin argued, and his tone was persuasive. “I’ll get Will to take her home. He’s more than willing.”

Carson checked out the big-shouldered man in a fashionably ripped black T-shirt with a beer glaze in his eyes. Harper was dwarfed beside him as she leaned against his massive chest.

“Too willing. No, I think the little lady’s had one tequila too many. I’ll take her home.”

Devlin inched forward and let his hand slide along her thigh. “You sure?” he asked in a husky voice.

“No.” She sighed and pushed his hand away.
Damn Harper,
she thought to herself as she stepped closer to her sister. Weaving slightly, she called out over the noise. “Harper! We’re going.”

Harper turned her head. Her hair was mussed and she moaned against Will’s chest, “So soon?”

“Yep. Come on, sister mine.”

She took her sister’s arm and pulled her to her feet, shaking her head against the chorus of offers to take Harper home, knowing full well none of them would go directly to Mamaw’s. This fun-loving, carefree woman was not the shy, retiring little girl she remembered. Carson watched with amusement as Harper laughed out loud at something the big fellow in the black T-shirt whispered in her ear, then waved a coy good-bye. Carson kept a firm grip on Harper as she tottered across the room. Once outside, the gravel and sand proved too much for Harper’s spiky heels. She bent over to slip them off, and in the process began hurling out the evening’s tequila.

Carson held back Harper’s hair and kept a steadying hand on her shoulder until she finished. Then she settled Harper in the passenger seat and walked around the car to the driver’s seat. She was fumbling for her keys in the dark when she was startled by the sound of a man’s voice at her window.

“You sure you can drive home?”

At first she thought it was Devlin and she blinked in the restaurant’s bright lights. It was Mr. Predictable. She racked her groggy brain for his name. Blake, that was it.

“Please,” she said, trying to enunciate clearly with a thick tongue. “The day I can’t drive a straight shot down Middle Street going twenty-five miles an hour, you can take away my keys.”

“I think that day has come,” Blake said. He smiled but his gaze was firm. “How about you give me your keys and I’ll drive you home.” He opened the car door.

Carson realized he wasn’t asking permission. Beside her, Harper was already snoring softly. Carson closed her eyes for a minute and felt the world spin. She didn’t think she was drunk, but maybe she’d had more than she’d thought. She opened her eyes to see Blake was still standing in front of her in his blue jeans and T-shirt, his hand stretched out, palm up.

“How’re you going to get back to your car?” she managed to get out.

“No problem. I don’t have a car. I’ll just toss my bike in the trunk.”

“You can’t. It’s filled with junk.”

“Then I walk a few blocks.” He pushed his palm closer. “Keys.”

“Shit,” Carson murmured, defeated. She dug in her purse and found the key attached to a big silver chain. “You know, I don’t really know you,” she said warily, holding the keys back.

“Sure you do. But if you feel more comfortable, I’ll try to find one of your friends inside who’s not too drunk to drive you home. Either way, Carson, you’re not driving tonight.”

“They’re not my friends.” Carson pouted and thrust the keys into his hand, her fingers brushing his. She climbed into the backseat and crossed her arms in a show of defiance. She knew she was being pitiful, but she had to salvage some self-respect. As he slid behind the wheel she noticed the breadth of his shoulders, his strong hands on the wheel as he fired up the engine.

The drive was less than a mile but it felt like hours as they drove in a dark silence, save for Harper’s gentle snoring. Clouds covered the moon and stars and the sky was inky. Carson leaned against the cushion and looked out the
window at the house lights flickering as they passed. She wondered how Blake had just happened to be in the parking lot when she’d left. It seemed every time she turned around, there he was.

“I thought you didn’t drink,” she said, turning her head toward him. He was a dark silhouette, so she couldn’t gauge his expression. “What were you doing at the bar?”

“It’s a restaurant, too,” he answered. Blake drove a bit more, then added, “But I came looking for you.”

Carson felt suddenly uneasy. She hadn’t thought it could be just a coincidence. “Looking for me? Why?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he said easily. “But then I saw you go off with that other guy, the one who was with you at Dunleavy’s, and I figured you were together. I didn’t want to get in the way.”

He was talking about Devlin, she realized. “I’m not
with
that guy,” Carson said. “He’s just an old friend. I have a lot of guy friends.”

Blake brought his hand to his jaw and scratched. “Oh.”

“So what did you want to talk about?” she asked, still not comfortable with his following her.

“We got cut off earlier. At Dunleavy’s. We were going to set a time for me to teach you about kiteboarding. You still interested?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure,” Carson said, regrouping. That made sense. It was a relief he wasn’t stalking her . . . not much, anyway. It was actually flattering that he was so determined. “When’s a good time for you?”

He shrugged. “I work during the day so weekends are good. Or any day after five.”

Carson considered the party this weekend. She was excited to learn and didn’t want to put the lesson off too long. He pulled into the driveway of Sea Breeze and parked the car.

“Monday?” she suggested, leaning forward in the seat.

He faced her then, and in the dim light she could just see the side of his mouth curl in a smile. “Monday it is. I’ll meet you at Station Twenty-Eight at five.”

Blake climbed from the car to open the passenger-side door while Carson climbed out from the back. Blake was very gentle with Harper as he shook her. She awakened with an unladylike snort. Blake helped Harper out of the car, holding on tight when she hit cool air.

“I feel sick,” Harper moaned.

Carson stepped a foot away, just in case. “We’ll put you to bed so you can sleep it off.”

She and Blake walked on either side of Harper and guided her as she wobbled to the front door.

“Do you want me to help you bring her in?” he asked.

“No, thanks, I can manage the rest of the way.” Carson got a better grip on Harper’s waist. “She’s a little thing. I don’t want to wake up Mamaw or Lucille. Harper won’t want anyone to know about this.”

“She’ll have a hard time keeping it a secret tomorrow when she’s hungover.”

“Yeah. She can’t hold her liquor.”

“And you can?”

“So you see.”

“Well, you’re not as drunk as I’d feared.”

“I tried to tell you.”

“Still,” he said seriously, “you aren’t fit to drive.”

“Debatable.”

Harper moaned. “I wanna lie down.”

“I better get her in. Thanks.”

He handed her the car keys, tucked his fingers in his back pocket, and backed away. “See you Monday at five.”

“Come on, honey,” Carson said to a softly groaning Harper. “Time to put the baby to bed.”

C
arson couldn’t wait to slip into her swimsuit and sneak off into the cove before the others woke up. She scurried down the dock while the sky was misty gray and climbed on her paddleboard. Her paddles splashed softly in the early-morning quiet as she coasted toward the inlet, scanning the cove. Sure enough, a dolphin emerged alongside her paddleboard with a noisy exhale from its blowhole. Carson felt her heart skip and immediately broke into a smile. She knew it was the same dolphin even without seeing the damaged fluke beneath the water.

“You came back!” Carson exclaimed, calling out in a high voice.

The dolphin made a high-pitched whistle that sounded happy to Carson’s ears.

The dolphin swam ahead rapidly, then leaped in the air and returned to the paddleboard with eager eyes. It was
watching her, inviting interaction. There was no question that this time this social dolphin had sought her out. And more, it was trying to communicate. Carson wanted to engage but felt deaf and dumb.

Always, in the back of her mind, a voice teased her,
This is all your imagination. The dolphin isn’t trying to communicate. It’s just a wild animal.
Yet another voice argued that she should ignore her rational doubts and simply accept what was happening. When she looked into the dolphin’s eyes, there was no questioning the animal’s intense level of awareness. And it seemed to be challenging her.

Carson decided then and there to cast away all doubts and make up her mind to believe. And this she’d have to do with her heart rather than her mind.

Carson slowly moved to lie on her belly on the board. She wanted to get face-to-face with the dolphin. The dolphin didn’t swim away, as she feared it might. It lingered, tilted its head, and looked at her with keen, curious eyes.

She rested her cheek on her hands and for a while they simply watched each other in a joyful quiet. It reminded her of nights with her sisters when they were young, lying on their beds, sharing stories as they fell asleep. As she bobbed on her board, water, salty and cool, splashed in her face and formed thick pearl drops on her lashes.

To her surprise, the dolphin tilted on its side and looked at her. Delighted, Carson imitated it and rolled to her side. The dolphin slipped to its belly, then lay on its side again. And Carson did the same. An idea blossomed in Carson’s mind and this time, she turned over completely onto her back. She held her breath. After a pause, the dolphin rolled
over, presenting its gleaming white underbelly. Carson saw one long line and what looked like parentheses on either side of it. They both flipped around at the same time.

Aha,
Carson thought, grinning.
You’re a girl. I just knew it
. Carson lifted her head and, looking into the radiant eyes, spoke the name that had been floating on her tongue.

“Hello, Delphine.”

Mamaw lounged in her robe on the back porch, feet up on the ottoman, sipping coffee and reading the
Post & Courier
. Today was her birthday! Eighty years of living . . . Who’d have guessed it? She felt she’d earned the right to be decadently lazy today. Her past was behind her and she’d lived a full life. She didn’t like to think her best was behind her as well, but she was realistic that this might be true. Still, it was a blessing to live long enough to see your children grow and prosper and procreate and to witness another generation carrying the torch. As it was a curse to outlive your children, your husband, your friends.

This was the hand she’d been dealt, however, and she was glad to still be in the game. Eighty years of good resolutions and failures. Eight decades of dreams and dashed hopes. When she was young she’d marked the years’ successes and failures with a measure of equanimity. After all, she still had plenty of years left to set things right. When she reached sixty, she paid closer attention to the passing of the years, and now, at eighty, she didn’t dare hope for another decade, but prayed for at least a few more years so she could
witness these young women finding their path. Truth was, she’d be grateful to see this summer through.