The doors of Blakelee Brakes had been open only for ten minutes when Will saw her push through the lobby doors and head directly into the service center.
Wiping his hands on a towel, he started toward her.
“Hey,” he said, smiling. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Thanks for nothing!” she snapped.
“What are you talking about?”
“I asked you to do one simple thing! Just make a call to have the cage put up! But you couldn’t even do that!”
“Wait… what’s going on?” He blinked.
“I told you I saw a raccoon! I told you a raccoon was coming around the nest!”
“Did something happen to the nest?”
“Like you even care. What? Did your volleyball game make you forget?”
“I just want to know if the nest is okay.”
She continued to glare at him. “Yeah. It’s fine. No thanks to you.” She turned on her heels and stormed toward the exit.
“Wait!” he shouted. “Hold on!”
She ignored him, leaving Will shocked and rooted in place as she pounded through the small lobby and out the front door.
“What the hell was that all about?”
Over his shoulder, Will realized Scott was staring at him from behind the lift.
“Do me a favor,” Will called to him.
“What do you need?”
He fished his keys out of his pocket and started toward the truck he’d parked out back. “Cover for me. I’ve got to take care of something.”
Scott took a quick step forward. “Wait! What are you talking about?”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can. If my dad comes in, tell him I’ll be right back. You can get things started while I’m gone.”
“Where you going?” Scott called.
This time Will didn’t answer, and Scott took a step toward him.
“C’mon, man! I don’t want to do this alone! We’ve got a ton of cars to work on.”
Will didn’t care, and once out of the bay, he jogged toward his truck, knowing where he needed to go.
He found her at the dune an hour later, standing beside the nest, still as angry as she’d been when she’d shown up at the brake shop.
Seeing him approach, she put her hands on her hips. “What do you want?”
“You didn’t let me finish. I did call.”
“Sure you did.”
He inspected the nest. “The nest is fine. What’s the big deal?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. No thanks to you.”
Will felt a ripple of irritation. “What’s your problem?”
“My problem is that I had to sleep outside again last night because the raccoon came back. The same raccoon I told you about!”
“You slept outside?”
“Do you ever listen to anything I say? Yes, I had to sleep outside. Two nights in a row, because you won’t do your job! If I hadn’t been looking out the window at exactly the right moment, the raccoon would have gotten the eggs. He wasn’t more than a couple of feet away from the nest when I finally scared him away. And then I had to stay out here because I knew he was going to come back. Which is why I asked you to call in the first place! And I assumed that even a beach bum like yourself could remember to do your job!”
She stared at him, hands on her hips again, as if trying to annihilate him with her death ray vision.
He couldn’t resist. “One more time, so I have the story straight: You saw a raccoon, then you wanted me to call, then you saw a raccoon again. And you ended up sleeping outside. Is that right?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it. Then, whirling away, she made a beeline for her house.
“They’re coming first thing tomorrow!” he called out. “And just to let you know, I did call. Twice, in fact. Once right after I put up the tape, and once more after I got off work. How many times do I have to say this before you’ll listen?”
Though she stopped, she still wouldn’t face him. He went on, “And then this morning, after you left, I went straight to the director of the aquarium and spoke to him in person. He said that this nest will be their first stop in the morning. That they would have come today, but there are eight nests on Holden Beach.”
She slowly turned around and studied him, trying to decide whether he was telling the truth.
“That doesn’t help my turtles tonight, does it?”
“Your turtles?”
“Yeah,” she said. Her tone was emphatic. “My house. My turtles.”
And with that, she turned and went back to her house, this time without caring that he was still there.
He liked her; it was as simple as that.
On his way back to work, he still wasn’t sure why he liked her, but never once had he left work to chase after Ashley. Every time he’d seen her, she’d managed to surprise him. He liked the way she said what was on her mind, and he liked how unfazed she was by him. Ironically, he’d yet to leave a good impression. First he’d spilled soda on her, next she’d seen him almost involved in a riot, and then this morning she’d believed him to be either lazy or an idiot.
No problem, of course. She wasn’t a friend and he didn’t really know her… but for whatever reason, he cared what she thought about him. And not only did he care, but crazy as it sounded, he wanted her to have a good impression of him. Because he wanted her to like him, too.
It was an odd experience, a new one for him, and the rest of the day at the shop-working through lunch to make up for the time he’d missed-he found his thoughts returning to her. He felt that there was something genuine in the way she spoke and acted, something caring and kind beneath the brittle facade. Something that let him know that while he’d disappointed her to this point, there was, with her, always a chance for redemption.
Later that night, he found her sitting exactly where he thought she would be, in a beach chair with a book open in her lap, reading by the light of a small lantern.
She looked up as he approached, then went back to her book, acting neither surprised nor pleased.
“I figured you’d be here,” he said. “Your house, your turtles, and all.”
When she didn’t respond, his gaze drifted. It wasn’t very late, and shadows were moving behind the curtains of the small house she lived in.
“Any sign of the raccoon?”
Instead of answering, she flipped a page of her book.
“Wait. Let me guess. You’re giving me the cold shoulder, right?”
With that, she sighed. “Shouldn’t you be with your friends, staring at yourselves in the mirror?”
He laughed. “That’s funny. I’ll have to remember that.”
“I’m not being funny. I’m being serious.”
“Oh, because we’re so good-looking, right?”
In response, she went back to her book, but Will could tell she wasn’t actually reading. He took a seat beside her.
“‘Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way,’” he quoted, pointing to her book. “It’s the first line in your book. I always thought there was a lot of truth in that. Or maybe that’s what my English teacher said. I can’t really remember. I read it last semester.”
“Your parents must be so proud you can read.”
“They are. They bought me a pony and everything when I did a book report on Cat in the Hat.”
“Was that before or after you claimed to have read Tolstoy?”
“Oh, so you are listening. Just making sure.” He spread his arms toward the horizon. “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it? I’ve always loved nights like this. There’s something relaxing about waves sounding in the darkness, don’t you think?” He paused.
She closed her book. “What’s with the full-court press?”
“I like people who like turtles.”
“So go hang out with your aquarium friends. Oh, wait, you can’t. Because they’re saving other turtles, and your other friends are painting their nails and curling their hair, right?”
“Probably. But I just figured you might want some company.”
“I’m fine,” she snapped. “Now go.”
“It’s a public beach. I like it here.”
“So you’re going to stay?”
“I think so.”
“Then you won’t mind if I go inside?”
He sat up straighter and brought a hand to his chin. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I mean, how can you trust that I’ll stay out here all night? And with that pesky raccoon…”
“What do you want with me?” she demanded.
“For starters, how about your name?”
She grabbed a towel, spreading it over her legs. “Ronnie,” she said. “It’s short for Veronica.”
He reclined a little, propping his arms behind him. “All right, Ronnie. What’s your story?”
“Why do you care?”
“Gimme a break,” he said, turning to face her. “I’m trying, okay?”
He wasn’t sure what she thought about that, but as she collected her hair into a loose ponytail, she seemed to accept the idea that she wasn’t going to be able to easily run him off.
“All right. My story: I live in New York with my mom and little brother, but she shipped us here to spend the summer with our dad. And now I’m stuck babysitting turtle eggs while a volleyball player slash grease monkey slash aquarium volunteer tries to hit on me.”
“I’m not hitting on you,” he protested.
“No?”
“Believe me, you’d know if I was hitting on you. You wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from succumbing to my charms.”
For the first time since he’d arrived, he heard her laugh. He took that as a good sign and went on.
“Actually, I came here because I felt bad about the cage, and I didn’t want you to be out here alone. Like I said earlier, it’s a public beach and you never know who might come walking up.”
“Like you?”
“It’s not me you should be worried about. There are bad people everywhere. Even here.”
“And let me guess. You’d protect me, right?”
“If it came down to that, I’d protect you in a heartbeat.”
She didn’t respond, but he had the feeling he’d surprised her. The tide was coming in, and together they watched the waves flare silver whenever they rolled and washed toward the shore. Through the windows, the curtains fluttered, as though someone were watching them.
“All right,” she finally said, breaking the silence. “Your turn. What’s your story?”
“I’m a volleyball player slash grease monkey slash aquarium volunteer.”
He heard her laugh again, liking its unfettered energy. It felt contagious.
“Are you okay if I stay with you for a while?”
“It’s a public beach.”
He motioned toward the house. “Do you need to tell your dad I’m out here?”
“I’m sure he already knows you’re here,” she said. “Last night, he must have checked on me every other minute.”
“He sounds like a good dad.”
She seemed to consider something before shaking her head. “So you love volleyball, huh?”
“It keeps me in shape.”
“That doesn’t really answer the question.”
“I enjoy it. I don’t know if I love it, though.”
“But you do like crashing into people, right?”
“That depends on who I crash into. But a few days ago, I guess I’d have to say it turned out pretty well.”
“You think drenching me is a good thing?”
“If I hadn’t soaked you, I might not be here now.”
“And I could be enjoying a quiet, peaceful night at the beach instead.”
“I don’t know.” He smiled. “Quiet, peaceful nights are overrated.”
“I guess I’m not going to find out tonight, huh?”
He laughed. “Where do you go to school?”
“I don’t,” she said. “I graduated a couple of weeks ago. You?”
“I just graduated from Laney High School. It’s where Michael Jordan went.”
“I’ll bet everyone in your high school says that.”
“No,” he corrected. “Not everyone. Just the ones who graduated.”
She rolled her eyes. “All right. So what’s next for you? Are you going to keep working for your dad?”
“Just through the summer.” He scooped up some sand and let it slip through his fingers.
“And then?”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”
“No?”
“I don’t know you well enough to trust you with that information.”
“How about a hint?” she prodded.
“How about you go first? What’s next for you?”
She thought about it. “I’m strongly considering a career in guarding turtle nests. I seem to have a knack for it. I mean, you should have seen the way that raccoon took off. It was like it thought I was the Terminator.”
“You sound like Scott,” he said. Seeing her blank expression, he explained. “He’s my volleyball partner, and the guy is the king of movie references. It’s like he can’t complete a sentence without one of them. Of course, he usually works some sexual innuendo in as well.”
“That sounds like a special talent.”
“Oh, it is. I could get him to give you a personal demonstration.”
“No, thank you. I don’t need any sexual innuendos.”
“You might like it.”
“I think not.”
He held her gaze as they bantered, noting that she was prettier than he remembered. Funny and smart, too, which was even better.
Near the nest, saw grass bent in the breeze and the steady sound of the waves surrounded them, making him feel as if they were in a cocoon. Up and down the beach, lights glowed in the oceanfront houses.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“I’m not sure I could stop you.”
He pushed his feet back and forth in the sand. “What’s with you and Blaze?”
In the silence, she stiffened slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I was just wondering why you were hanging out with her the other night.”
“Oh,” she said. Though he had no idea why, she seemed relieved. “Actually, we met when she spilled my soda on me. Right after I finished cleaning up what you did.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. As far as I can tell, dumping soda on people is the equivalent of ‘Hi, it’s nice to meet you’ in this part of the world. Frankly, I think standard greetings work better, but what do I know?” She drew a long breath. “Anyway, she seemed cool and I didn’t know anyone else, so we just… ended up hanging out for a while.”
“Did she stay here with you last night?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“What? Didn’t she want to save the turtles? Or at least keep you company?”
“I didn’t tell her about this.”
He could tell she didn’t want to say more, so he let it drop. Instead, he motioned to the beach.
“Do you want to go for a walk?”
“Do you mean a romantic walk, or just a walk?”
“I’m going to say… just a walk.”
“Good choice.” She clapped her hands together. “But just so you know, I don’t want to go too far, being that the aquarium volunteers weren’t concerned about the raccoon and the eggs are still exposed.”
“They were definitely concerned. I have it on good authority that an aquarium volunteer is helping to guard the nest right now.”
“Yes,” she said. “But the real question is why?”
They walked the beach in the direction of the pier, passing a dozen oceanfront mansions, each with massive decks and staircases that led down to the beach. A few houses down, one of the neighbors was hosting a small gathering; all the lights on the third floor were on, and three or four couples leaned against the railing, watching the moonlit waves.
They didn’t talk much, but for some reason, the silence didn’t feel uncomfortable. Ronnie kept just enough distance so they wouldn’t accidentally brush against each other, sometimes studying the sand and at other times staring ahead. There were moments when he thought he saw a fleeting smile cross her features, as though she remembered a humorous story she hadn’t yet shared with him. Every now and then, she stopped and bent over to retrieve seashells that were half-buried in the sand, and he noted her concentration as she examined them in the moonlight before tossing most of them aside. The others she slipped into her pocket.
There was so much he didn’t know about her-in many ways she remained a cipher to him. In that, she was the complete opposite of Ashley. Ashley was nothing if not safe and predictable; he knew thoroughly what he was getting, even if it wasn’t what he really wanted. But Ronnie was different, no doubt about it, and when she offered him an unguarded and unexpected smile, he had the sense she was intuiting his thoughts. The realization warmed him, and when they finally turned around and made their way back toward their spot near the turtle nest, there was an instant when he imagined himself walking beside her on the beach each and every night into a distant future.
When they reached the house, Ronnie went inside to talk to her dad while Will unpacked his truck. He set up his bedroll and supplies on the side of the turtle nest, wishing Ronnie could have stayed near the nest with him. But she’d already told him there wasn’t a chance that her dad would agree. At the very least, though, he was glad she’d be able to sleep in her own bed tonight.
Getting comfortable, he lay down, thinking that today had been a start, if nothing else. Anything might happen from here. But when she turned, smiling as she waved a final good night from the porch, he felt something leap inside at the notion that she just might imagine it was the beginning of something, too.
“Who’s the stiff?”
“Nobody. Just a friend. Go away.”
As the words drifted through the hazy corridors of his mind, Will struggled to remember where he was. Squinting into the sun, he realized he was face-to-face with a little boy.
“Oh, hey,” Will mumbled.
The boy rubbed his nose. “What are you doing here?”
“Waking up.”
“I can see that. But what were you doing here last night?”
Will smiled. The kid acted as serious as a coroner, which seemed comical given his age and stature. “Sleeping.”
“Uh-huh.”
Will pushed back, giving himself room to sit up, and noticed Ronnie standing off to the side. She was dressed in a black T-shirt and torn jeans and wore the same amused expression he’d seen the night before.
“I’m Will,” he offered. “And you are?”
The boy nodded toward Ronnie. “I’m her roommate,” he said. “We go back a long way.”
Will scratched his head, smiling. “I see.”
Ronnie took a step forward, her hair still damp from her shower. “This is my nosy brother, Jonah.”
“Oh?” Will asked.
“Yeah,” Jonah answered. “Except for the nosy part.”
“Good to know.”
Jonah continued to stare at him. “I think I know you.”
“I don’t think so. I feel like I would have remembered meeting you.”
“No, I do remember,” Jonah said, beginning to smile. “You were the guy who told the police officer that Ronnie went to Bower’s Point!”
The memory of that night came surging back, and Will turned to Ronnie, watching with dread as her expression changed from curiosity to puzzlement and finally to understanding.
Oh, no.
Jonah was still going on. “Yeah, Officer Pete brought her home, and she and Dad had this big fight the next morning…”
Will saw Ronnie’s mouth tighten. Muttering, she turned and stormed into the house.
Jonah stopped in midsentence, wondering what he’d said.
“Thanks for that,” Will growled, then hopped to his feet and sprinted after Ronnie.
“Ronnie! Wait! C’mon. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for you to get into trouble.”
He reached for her arm as he caught up with her. When his fingers grazed her T-shirt, she whirled to face him.
“Go away!”
“Just listen to me for a second-”
“You and I have nothing in common!” she snapped. “Get it?”
“Then what was last night about?”
Her cheeks were red. “Leave. Me. Alone.”
“Your act doesn’t work on me,” he said. For some reason, his words kept her quiet long enough to go on. “You stopped the fight, even though everyone else wanted blood. You were the only one who even noticed the kid who started to cry, and I saw the way you smiled when he went off with his mom. You read Tolstoy in your spare time. And you like sea turtles.”
Though she raised her chin defiantly, he sensed he’d struck a nerve. “So what?”
“So I want to show you something today.” He paused, relieved that she didn’t immediately say no. But she hadn’t said yes, either, and before she could decide one way or the other, he took a small step forward.
“You’ll like it,” he said. “I promise.”
Will pulled into the empty parking lot of the aquarium and followed a small service drive that led around back. Ronnie sat beside him in the truck but hadn’t said much on the drive over. As he walked her toward the employees entrance, he could tell that even though she’d agreed to come, she hadn’t yet made up her mind about whether or not to still be angry with him.
He held open the door for her, feeling the cool draft as it mingled with the hot, humid air outside. He led her down a long corridor, then pushed through yet another door that led into the aquarium itself.
There were a handful of people working in their offices, although the aquarium wouldn’t open to the public for another hour. Will loved being here before it opened; the dim lights from the tanks and absence of sound made it feel like a secret hideaway. Often, he would find himself mesmerized by the poisoned spines of the lionfish as they moved in saltwater loops, skimming the glass. He wondered whether they realized their habitat had shrunk in size, and if they even knew he was there.
Ronnie walked next to him, observing the activity. She seemed content to stay quiet as they passed a massive ocean tank, home to a smaller replica of a sunken German submarine from World War II. When they reached the tank of slowly undulating jellyfish that glowed fluorescent beneath a black light, she stopped and touched the glass in wonder.
“Aurelia aurita,” Will said. “Also known as moon jellies.”
She nodded, returning her gaze to the tank, transfixed by their slow-motion movement. “They’re so delicate,” she said. “It’s hard to believe the stings can be so painful.”
Her hair had dried curlier than it had the day before, making her appear a bit like an unruly tomboy.
“Tell me about it. I think I’ve been stung at least once a year since I was a kid.”
“You should try to avoid them.”
“I do. But they find me anyway. I think they’re attracted to me.”
She smiled faintly, then turned and faced him directly. “What are we doing here?”
“I told you I wanted to show you something.”
“I’ve seen fish before. And I’ve been to an aquarium, too.”
“I know. But this is special.”
“Because no one else is here?”
“No,” he answered. “Because you’re going to see something that the public doesn’t see.”
“What? You and me alone near a fish tank?”
He grinned. “Even better. C’mon.”
In a situation like this, he normally wouldn’t hesitate to take a girl’s hand, but he couldn’t bring himself to try it with her. He motioned with his thumb toward a corner hallway, tucked neatly away so as to be practically unnoticeable. At the end of the hallway, he paused before the door.
“Don’t tell me they gave you an office,” she teased.
“No,” he said, pushing open the door. “I don’t work here, remember? I’m just a volunteer.”
They entered a large cinder-block room crisscrossed by air ducts and dozens of exposed pipes. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead, but the sound was drowned out by the enormous water filters that lined the far wall. A giant open tank, filled nearly to the top with ocean water, lent the air a tang of salt and brine.
Will led the way onto a steel-grated platform that circled the tank and climbed down the industrial steps. On the far side of the tank was a medium-size Plexiglas window. The lights above provided enough illumination to make out the slowly moving creature.
He watched Ronnie as she eventually recognized what she was seeing.
“Is that a sea turtle?”
“A loggerhead, actually. Her name is Mabel.”
As the turtle glided past the window, the scars on her shell became apparent, as did the missing flipper.
“What happened to her?”
“She was hit by a boat propeller. She was rescued about a month ago, barely alive. A specialist from NC State had to amputate part of her front flipper.”
In the tank, unable to stay completely upright, Mabel swam at a slight angle and bumped into the far wall, then began her circuit again.
“Is she going to be okay?”
“It’s a miracle she’s lived this long, and I hope she’ll make it. She’s stronger now than she was. But no one knows if she can survive in the ocean.”
Ronnie watched as Mabel bumped into the wall again before correcting her course, then turned to face Will.
“Why did you want me to see this?”
“Because I thought you’d like her as much as I do,” he said. “Scars and all.”
Ronnie seemed to wonder at his words, but she said nothing. Instead, she turned to watch Mabel in silence for a while. As Mabel vanished into the back shadows, he heard Ronnie sigh.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” she asked.
“It’s my day off.”
“Working for Dad has its perks, huh?”
“You might say that.”
She tapped the glass, trying to get Mabel’s attention. After a moment, she turned to him again. “So what do you usually do on your day off?”
“Just a good old southern boy, huh? Going fishing, watching the clouds. I feel like you should be wearing a NASCAR hat and chewing tobacco.”
They’d spent another half hour at the aquarium-Ronnie was especially delighted by the otters-before Will had taken her to a bait shop to pick up some frozen shrimp. From there, he’d brought her to an undeveloped lot on the intracoastal side of the island, where he’d pulled out the fishing gear he kept stored in the truck box. Then he’d led her to the edge of a small dock, and they sat, their feet dangling just a couple of feet above the water.
“Don’t be a snob,” he chided her. “Believe it or not, the South is great. We have indoor plumbing and everything. And on weekends, we get to go mudding.”
“Mudding?”
“We drive our trucks in the mud.”
Ronnie faked a dreamy expression. “That sounds so… intellectual.”
He nudged her playfully. “Yeah, tease me if you want. But it’s fun. Muddy water spraying all over the windshield, getting stuck, spinning your wheels to soak the guy behind you.”
“Believe me, I’m giddy just thinking about it,” Ronnie said, deadpan.
“I take it that’s not how you spend your weekends in the city.”
She shook her head. “Uh… no. Not exactly.”
“I’ll bet you never even leave the city, do you?”
“Of course I leave the city. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“You know what I mean. On the weekends.”
“Why would I want to leave the city?”
“Maybe just to be alone now and then?”
“I can be alone in my room.”
“Where would you go if you wanted to sit beneath a tree and read?”
“I’d go to Central Park,” she countered easily. “There’s this great knoll behind Tavern on the Green. And I can buy a latte just around the corner.”
He shook his head in mock lament. “You’re such a city girl. Do you even know how to fish?”
“It’s not that hard. Bait the hook, cast the line, then hold the pole. How am I doing so far?”
“Okay, if that’s all there was to it. But you have to know where to cast and be good enough to cast exactly where you want. You have to know what bait and lures to use, and those depend on everything from the type of fish to the weather to the clarity of the water. And then, of course, you have to set the hook. If you’re too early or too late, you’ll miss the fish.”
Ronnie seemed to consider his comment. “So why did you choose to use shrimp?”
“Because it was on sale,” he answered.
She giggled, then brushed lightly against him. “Cute,” she said. “But I guess I deserved that.”
He could still feel the warmth of her touch on his shoulder. “You deserve worse,” he said. “Believe me, fishing is like a religion to some folks around here.”
“You included?”
“No. Fishing is… contemplative. Gives me time to think without interruption. And besides, I enjoy watching the clouds while I wear my NASCAR hat and chew tobacco.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You don’t really chew tobacco, do you?”
“No. I kind of like the idea of not losing my lips to mouth cancer.”
“Good,” she said. She swung her legs back and forth. “I’d never date anyone who chewed tobacco.”
“Are you saying we’re on a date?”
“No. This definitely isn’t a date. This is fishing.”
“You’ve got so much to learn. I mean, this… is what life’s all about.”
She picked at a sliver of wood on the dock. “You sound like a beer commercial.”
An osprey glided over them just as the line ducked once and then a second time. Will jerked the rod upward as the line went tight. He scrambled to his feet as he began to reel it in, the rod already bending. It happened so fast that Ronnie barely had time to figure out what was happening.
“Did you get one?” she asked, jumping up.
“Come closer,” he urged, continuing to reel. He forced the rod toward her. “Here!” he shouted. “Take it!”
“I can’t!” she squealed, backing away.
“It’s not hard! Just take it and continue to turn the reel!”
“I don’t know what to do!”
“I just told you!” he said. Ronnie edged forward, and he practically forced the rod into her hands. “Now keep turning the reel!”
She watched the rod bob lower as she began to turn the crank.
“Hold it up! Keep the line tight!”
“I’m trying!” she cried.
“You’re doing great!”
The fish splashed near the surface-a small red drum, he noticed-and Ronnie screamed, making a scene. When he burst out laughing, she started laughing, too, hopping on one foot. When the fish splashed again, she screamed a second time, jumping even higher, but this time with an expression of fierce determination.
It was, he thought, one of the funniest things he’d seen in a long time.
“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” he encouraged. “Get it closer to the dock and I’ll take care of the rest.” Holding the net, he got down on his belly, stretching his arm over the water as Ronnie continued to reel. With a quick motion, he was able to scoop the fish into the net, then he stood. As he inverted the net, the fish dropped onto the dock, flopping as it hit the surface. Ronnie continued to hold the reel, dancing around the fish as Will grabbed for the line.
“What are you doing?” she shrieked. “You’ve got to put it back into the water!”
“It’ll be fine-”
“It’s dying!”
He squatted and grabbed the fish, pinning it to the dock. “No, it isn’t!”
“You’ve got to get the hook out!” she shrieked again.
He reached for the hook and began to pry it out. “I’m trying! Just give me a second!”
“It’s bleeding! You hurt it!” She danced around him frantically.
Ignoring her, he began to work the hook out. He could feel the tail moving back and forth, flopping against the back of his hand. It was small, maybe three or four pounds, but surprisingly strong.
“You’re taking too long!” Ronnie fretted.
He carefully freed the hook but held the fish pinned against the dock. “You sure you don’t want to bring it home for dinner? You should be able to get a couple of fillets out of it.”
Her mouth opened and closed in disbelief, but before she could say anything, Will tossed the fish back into the water. With a splash, it dove and vanished. Will reached for a hand towel and wiped the blood from his fingers.
Ronnie continued to stare at him accusingly, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “You would have eaten it, wouldn’t you? If I weren’t here?”
“I would have thrown it back.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Because you’re probably right.” He smiled at her before reaching for the rod. “Now, do you want to bait the next hook or should I?”
“So Mom’s been going crazy trying to plan my sister’s wedding and make the whole thing perfect,” Will said. “It’s been a little… tense at the house.”
“When’s the wedding?”
“August ninth. It doesn’t help matters that my sister wants to have it at our house. Which, of course, only adds to my mom’s stress.”
Ronnie smiled. “What’s your sister like?”
“Smart. Lives in New York. A bit of a free spirit. Pretty much like another older sister I know.”
That seemed to please her. As they strolled the beach, the sun was setting and Will could tell that Ronnie was feeling more relaxed. They’d ended up catching and releasing three more fish before he drove her to downtown Wilmington, where they’d enjoyed lunch on a deck that overlooked the Cape Fear River. Drawing her eyes to a spot on the opposite bank, he’d pointed out the USS North Carolina, a decommissioned battleship from World War II. Watching Ronnie inspect it, Will was struck by how easy it was to spend time with her. Unlike other girls he knew, she said what she meant and didn’t play stupid games. She had a quirky sense of humor that he liked, even when it was directed at him. In fact, he liked everything about her.
As they approached her house, Ronnie ran ahead to check on the nest tucked into the base of the dune. She paused at the cage-it was made of chicken wire and secured into the sandy dune by extralong stakes-and when he joined her at the dune, she turned to him doubtfully.
“This is going to keep the raccoon away?”
“That’s what they say.”
She studied it. “How do the turtles get out? They can’t fit through the holes, can they?”
Will shook his head. “The aquarium volunteers remove the cage before the eggs hatch.”
“How do they know when they’ll hatch?”
“They’ve got it down to a science. The eggs take around sixty days to incubate before they hatch, but that can vary slightly depending on the weather. The hotter the temperature is all summer, the quicker they’ll hatch. And keep in mind that this isn’t the only nest on the beach, and it wasn’t the first one, either. Once the first nest clears, the others usually follow within a week or so.”
“Have you ever seen a nest hatch?”
He nodded. “Four times.”
“What’s it like?”
“It’s a little crazy, actually. As the time approaches, we remove the cages, and then we dig a shallow trench from the nest to the water’s edge, making it as smooth as possible, but high enough on the sides so the turtles can only go in one direction. And it’s weird, because at first only a couple of eggs are moving, but it’s like their movement is enough to set the whole nest going, and before you know it, the nest is like a crazy beehive on steroids. The turtles are climbing over each other to get out of the hole, and then they hit the sand and head toward the water in this little crablike parade. It’s amazing.”
As he described it, he got the sense Ronnie was trying to picture the scene. Then she noticed her dad stepping onto the back porch, and she waved.
Will motioned to the house. “I take it that’s your dad?” he asked.
“Yup.”
“Don’t you want to introduce me?”
“Nope.”
“I promise to have good manners.”
“That’d be good.”
“So why won’t you introduce me?”
“Because you haven’t taken me to meet your parents yet.”
“Why do you have to meet my parents?”
“Exactly,” she said.
“I’m not sure I follow what you mean.”
“Then how on earth did you ever make it through Tolstoy?”
If he wasn’t confused before, he was completely baffled now. She started walking slowly down the beach, and he took a few quick steps to catch up with her.
“You’re not exactly easy to figure out.”
“And?”
“And nothing. Just noting it for the record.”
She smiled to herself, glancing toward the horizon. In the distance, a shrimp trawler was making its way to port. “I want to be here when it happens,” she offered.
“When what happens?”
“When the turtles hatch. What did you think I was talking about?”
He shook his head. “Oh, we’re back to that. Well, okay, when do you leave for New York?”
“Late August.”
“That’s cutting it close. Just hope for a long hot summer.”
“It’s off to a good start. I’m boiling.”
“That’s because you’re wearing black. And jeans.”
“I didn’t realize I’d be spending most of the day outside.”
“Otherwise you would have worn a bikini, right?”
“I don’t think so,” she said.
“You don’t like bikinis?”
“Of course I do.”
“Just not around me?”
She tossed her head. “Not today.”
“What if I promise to take you fishing again?”
“You’re not helping yourself.”
“Duck hunting?”
That stopped her. When she finally found her voice, it was disapproving. “Tell me you don’t really kill ducks?”
When Will said nothing, Ronnie went on, “Cute, sweet little feathered creatures, flying toward their little duck pond, just minding their own business? And you blow them out of the sky?”
Will considered the question. “Only in the winter.”
“When I was a little girl, my favorite stuffed animal was a duck. I had duck wallpaper. I had a hamster named Daffy. I love ducks.”
“I do, too.” he said.
She didn’t bother to hide her skepticism. Will responded by counting on the tips of his fingers as he continued, “I love them fried, roasted, broiled, with a side of sweet-and-sour sauce-”
She gave him a shove, knocking him off balance for a step or two. “That’s terrible!”
“It’s funny!”
“You’re just a mean man.”
“Sometimes,” he said. He motioned toward the house. “So if you don’t want to go home yet, do you want to come with me?”
“Why? Are you planning to show or tell me about yet another way you kill small animals?”
“I’ve got a volleyball game soon and I want you to come. It’s fun.”
“Are you going to spill soda on me again?”
“Only if you bring a soda.”
She debated for an instant, then fell into step with him in the direction of the pier. He nudged her and she nudged him back.
“I think you have problems,” she told him.
“What problems?”
“Well, for starters, you’re an evil duck killer.”
He laughed before catching her eye. She looked down at the sand, then up the beach, then finally toward him. She shook her head, unable to suppress a smile, as if marveling at what was happening between them and enjoying every moment.