The following day Dora returned to Sea Breeze and found her grandmother sitting in the shade of the porch like a queen bee in her yellow cotton tunic.

“Darling girl!” Mamaw called out, raising both arms out. “You’re back. Give me some sugar.”

Dora was surprised to see her grandmother looking so vivacious and tan. In contrast, Dora felt pale and exhausted.

“How did everything go?”

Dora had spent hours with her lawyer preparing the divorce settlement. It was an emotionally draining experience. Then she had to hire painters, plumbers, and electricians to get the house in decent enough shape to put on the market. In truth, she was glad to pack up her and Nate’s clothing and hightail it back to Sullivan’s Island again. She found the house she’d once loved depressing now.

“As well as can be expected,” Dora replied evasively.

“And the house? When will the painting start?”

“I got a slot the week after next. There’s so much to do but we’re only able to afford the minimum. I hate to sell it as is.” She sighed. “Too poor to paint and too proud to whitewash.”

“Do whatever you must. It’ll be cheap in the end.”

“Where’s Nate?” Dora asked, sitting in a chair beside Mamaw.

“He’s out in the water with Carson.”

“Nate’s in the water?” Dora asked, alarmed.

“That little boy is another fish out there, I swanny.”

“He’s swimming in the cove?” Dora asked again with rising horror. She stood, fixing her gaze on the dock, squinting. “He’s not a good enough swimmer for that!”

“Calm yourself, Dora,” Mamaw told her. “Carson’s with him and she’s been giving him swimming lessons. He’s doing marvelously.”

Dora slipped back into the chair. “Swimming lessons?” she repeated, trying to make sense. “He takes lessons . . . without complaining?” She had persevered for years taking Nate to swimming lessons at their local country club and he’d hated them, hated the teacher, hated everything about it. He’d had temper tantrums each time they went.

“Not a peep. He’s been such a good boy,” Mamaw said. “He thrives on the new regimen. I daresay we all do!”

“What new regimen?” Dora sputtered.

“You’ll have to follow it, too, my dear. We’re all committed. I feel wonderful! No fatty foods. No alcohol.” She smirked. “Or almost none. And the schedule . . . Honey, you’re going to love it. Carson is our early bird. She rises before the sun to go paddleboarding. Can’t help herself, bless her heart. The rest of us get up after the sun rises, around seven.”

“Nate too? He gets up on his own?” Dora asked, thinking of all the mornings she had to wheedle and cajole him out of his bed. “Is he sleeping well?” she asked.

“He sleeps just fine!” Mamaw exclaimed without guile. “All through the night. Why do you ask?”

Dora, mouth agape, just shrugged. At home, he often awoke during the night.

Mamaw went on. “He is particular about his food, as you warned, and we’ve been trying our best to stick to his diet. But once the food gets past his radar . . .” She shook her head and said as an aside, “No easy task, I tell you! He should be hired by the Department of Homeland Security. Anyway, once it’s approved, he gobbles it right up. And his appetite! It’s something else!”

Lucille came out carrying a glass of iced tea. She handed it to Dora. “That boy loves him some mashed potatoes. Can’t get enough of them. He’ll eat them at every meal if we serve them. And we do,” she chuckled as she walked off.

“Mashed potatoes . . .” muttered Dora.

“That’s right, dear. He doesn’t object to the texture,” Mamaw said knowingly. “You’ll be so proud of his swimming, too. He’s made such progress! And in such a short period of time. I always said that Carson was a mermaid and now your son is too. Or should I say a merman? I have no idea what to call him, but he hates to leave the water. We have to drag that boy out. Then when Carson goes to work, I mind him. Sometimes I take him fishing. Lord, that boy loves to fish. He won’t eat it though, which I find peculiar. Lucille’s been cooking up the fish for the rest of us, but he’ll just stick to his ham without complaint.

“Sometimes Lucille and I take him to the market, which he does not like.” She leaned closer and told Dora confidentially, “I don’t think he likes crowds. They make him nervous, especially when they bump him. But I needed to buy him a few things, like a new swimsuit and some sandals. And books. I’ve never known a child who loves to read so much. Except perhaps Harper,” she recalled as an expression of fond memory flitted across her face.

Dora only nodded, taking it all in.

“Then, in the late afternoons,” Mamaw continued, “we’re all tired and hungry and have a little quiet time in our rooms. At night, Carson does some work in her room and Nate cuddles up in front of the television to watch Animal Planet or something about nature.” She smiled. “He’s a natural-born Jacques Cousteau.” Mamaw sighed and shrugged, seemingly tired by the long presentation. “Then it’s dinner and bedtime,” she summed up.

Dora listened to this recitation, stunned to silence. All this time she’d been worried witless about how Nate was faring at Sea Breeze, fearful that she’d put too much stress and responsibility on Mamaw and Lucille’s shoulders, concerned that Carson would resent an interruption in Mamaw’s private time at the house, and here they were, happy as a bunch of campers without mosquitoes.

“I—I don’t know what to say,” Dora stammered.

“No need to say anything, dear. Why don’t you take these towels down to the dock and see for yourself? Those two have been in there for hours. Be a dear and call them in for dinner.”

Dora made her way down the long wooden dock toward the water, her mind trying to grasp all that she’d been told about schedules and swimming and good times. When she reached the end of the dock, she stopped short, unable to believe her eyes.

Out in the water Nate was swimming like a seal with strong strokes, despite his life preserver, chasing down a red ball bobbing in the water a few feet away from him. He’d almost reached it when a gray shadow shot past him and popped the ball out from the water. It was the dolphin! Dora’s heart nearly stopped. That animal was right beside her son.