“But suddenly, I’m losing everything. My husband, my house, my life.” She looked at her belly. “Hell, even my figure. Everything I cared about is just slipping through my fingers. I’m scared. You know, sometimes, when I’m all alone, I put my face in the pillow and just scream until I’ve got nothing left in me.” She sniffed. “What do you think that means? Am I losing my mind, too?”
“No,” Carson said, rising to sit. “Who cares about that damn house? It’s been an albatross around your neck for years. Frankly, so was Cal. I never thought he was worthy of you.”
Dora laughed lightly with disbelief. “Now you’re starting to sound like Mamaw.”
Carson’s brows rose. “Then you know it’s true. Mamaw’s never wrong.”
Dora shared a laugh with Carson and felt the tension ease between them.
Carson said, “I’m serious. Good riddance.”
“Then why do I feel so sad?” Dora asked tearfully, plucking the tissue.
“You and me,” Carson said earnestly, “we’re both in a bad place right now. Harper, too. But we’ll get through this. I promise you. Dora, you threw me a life preserver and pulled me in when I needed you. Let me do the same for you.” She reached out to grab her sister’s arm and give her a loving shake. “I’m here for you, okay? You’re not alone, either.”
The long-awaited phone call came at four o’clock the next day. Carson had risen from bed and showered, and was standing at the porch door, looking out, when Lucille knocked on her door.
“You got a phone call. It’s from that dolphin fella,” Lucille said. She watched as Carson darted past to the phone, then, with a small smile, closed the door behind her.
“This is Carson.”
“Carson, it’s Blake. I’m calling from Mote Marine Laboratory hospital in Sarasota.”
She clutched the phone tighter. “How’s Delphine?”
“Better. It was touch-and-go there for a while, but she’s young and strong and held her own. The monofilament fishing line was embedded deeply and required surgery for removal. She’s been started on antibiotics and fluids. At first she showed no interest in food but she could swim on her own, which was a good sign. They performed a second surgery to remove all of the monofilament encircling the base of the tail, which was already mangled from the shark bite. But today she turned a corner. Her blood work this morning looked significantly improved and she started eating. Even her swimming looks better. She’s not out of the woods yet, but we’re hopeful.”
Carson began to cry. She hadn’t expected such a visceral reaction. Clutching the phone, she slid down along the wall onto the floor, great heaving sobs pouring out that embarrassed her on the phone with Blake, but she couldn’t stop herself.
“It’s okay, Carson,” Blake told her, his voice reassuring. “Delphine’s one feisty dolphin.”
“I’m so happy,” she choked out. “You . . . you don’t know what it’s been like.”
“I have a pretty good idea.”
“Thank you, Blake. Thank you so much.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank this incredible team here at Mote. They deserve the credit.”
“I will. I’ll write to them today.”
“It’d be nice if you sent a donation. The cost of caring for Delphine will be very high.”
“Of course,” she agreed. “I’m so grateful.”
“Well, I’d better go. I’ve got a plane to catch. I just wanted you to know.”
“You’re coming home?”
“I’m done here.”
“When will Delphine be coming back?”
“I can’t say. We’ll just have to see how she does. It’s out of my hands now.”
“Blake . . .” She hesitated. “Will you call me when you come back?” she asked. “I’d like to see you.”
He paused.
“Please,” she added.
“Yeah, sure,” he said, though she heard no pleasure in it. “I’ll give you a call when I get settled. I’ve got a lot of work piled on my desk. But I’ll call.”
She heard the click of the phone and hung up. She was worried about Blake’s tone. He’d sounded so distant. She’d rather he’d sounded angry.
But Delphine was going to be all right. Then, for the first time in days, Carson smiled.
Carson knocked on Nate’s door. There was no answer.
“Nate?” she called out.
There was no response.
Carson turned the handle and gently pushed open the door. She didn’t want to startle the boy, nor was she sure how he’d react when he saw her. He might begin screaming again.
His room was dimly lit. Dora had told her that he kept closing the shutters, preferring to watch television or play his games in the dark. She found him as Dora had predicted, sitting in front of the screen, playing a video game.
“Nate?”
Nate swung around, startled. She saw the wariness in his eyes again, the same distrust that she’d seen the first time she met him. It pained her to see it.
“Can I come in?”
“No.” He turned back to his game.
Carson hesitated at the door. “I have some good news.”
“Go away.”
“It’s about Delphine.”
Nate’s fingers stopped manipulating his game. “What?”
Carson took a few steps toward him. “I got a phone call from Blake. He’s the man who came when Delphine got sick and took her to the hospital in Florida.”
No response.
“He said she’s feeling much better. Delphine is going to be all right.”
Nate remained expressionless, but his hand lowered as he set the game controller down on the floor. “What about her cuts?”
“Well,” Carson said, “the doctors had to give her medicine and it’s going to take time for her to heal, but they think she will. It’s just going to take some time.”
Nate said nothing.
“I wanted to tell you that. And that I’m very sorry I got angry and grabbed you. That was wrong of me. Sometimes, people get angry and do things they shouldn’t. Things they regret. I’m sorry,” she repeated.
Nate said nothing.
“Okay then.” Carson ventured a smile, then turned to leave. As Carson walked across the room, she hoped Nate would call her back, that he’d say he was happy that Delphine’s wounds were healing. But he did not. The boy only raised his controller and returned to his game. As Carson closed the door behind her, she realized that Delphine’s wounds weren’t the only ones that needed to heal.