Swimming Lessons Read Online Free PDF Page A

repellent. Across the floor, the turtle remained unmoving under the towels. Often these turtles hung on to life by a thin thread. Toy sat very still, waiting for several minutes in the silence to hear a breath. None came.
    Worried, Toy unwrapped herself from the sleeping bag to brave the mosquitoes and check on the loggerhead. She removed the towel from over its big head. The turtle was lying perfectly still.
    “How are you doing, Big Girl?” she asked, squinting in the dark. She bent to gently touch the turtle’s eyelids, seeking some response.
    The turtle blinked and released a long exhale.
    Toy exhaled, too, in great relief. “You had me worried there, old girl,” she said, reaching out to place her palm on the turtle’s roughened shell. She felt a strong bond with the mother sea turtle. “We single mothers have to stick together,” she said and, though she had no logical reason for it, she acted on instinct and began to pat the shell.
    She thought again of her recurring dream of the sea turtle. Of how Big Girl had traveled long and far to reach this bit of beach she called home.
    “You made it home,” she crooned softly. “All that way, through all those dangers. How many seasons have you survived out there in the ocean, huh? Are you forty years old? Fifty? More?”
    No one knew for sure how long loggerheads lived. Some thought they lived to one hundred years or more.
    “Don’t you worry, Big Girl. You’re not alone. I’m here for you.”
     
    Upstairs, Cara closed the storybook and glanced over at the little girl on the bed beside her. Pale lashes rested on cherubic cheeks while soft puffs of air came out evenly through her rosy lips.
    Cara’s heart pumped with affection for the little girl she’d helped raise since she was born. Toy liked to say that the spirit of Miss Lovie came to rest in the heart of this child, and though it was Cara’s nature to pooh-pooh such sentiment, in her heart she believed it was true. She caught glimpses of her mother’s gentle spirit in Little Lovie. And certainly in her love of nature, the sea turtles especially.
    Cara reached up to softly stroke the blond hairs awayfrom Little Lovie’s forehead, still damp from her bath. It was a gesture she remembered her own mother making. A surge of emotion moistened her eyes.
    “You’re thinking of your mother, aren’t you?”
    Cara turned toward the voice at the door. Leaning against the frame she saw the tall, broad form of her husband, his arms crossed at his chest, his eyes soft with concern. Brett’s keen ability to observe even small details was what made him both a great wildlife guide and a great husband.
    She nodded and let her gaze wander. “I always feel her presence keenly here at the beach house.”
    “It’s not surprising. She loved it here more than anywhere else.”
    “Wouldn’t she just love having a turtle under her porch?” She laughed lightly at the thought. “She sure loved the turtles.”
    “She loved you. Are you sure you won’t be happier living in this house? She left it to you, after all. Maybe she wanted you to live here. I wouldn’t mind moving.”
    “Someday, perhaps. But the memories are still too strong. Even after five years, the pain’s too fresh.” She shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe because she died so soon after our reconciliation. For so long we barely ever talked. And then when we finally started, she had to up and die. Hardly seems fair.”
    “At least you cleared the air. You had the chance a lot of other people miss.”
    “I know. I’m grateful for that, I really am.” Cara reached up to tuck the pink sheet under Little Lovie’s chin. “It’s just, there’s still so much I want to tell her. So much I would have liked to share with her. I feel robbed.”
    Cara rose from the bed and wrapped her arms acrossher chest. She gazed around the room. This was once her bedroom, the room of a girl’s dreams and heartaches.
    “After she died, I tried sleeping in Mama’s bed. The