Page 15 of That Last Carolina Summer

“Pelicans are thought to symbolize the love and self-sacrifice of a parent because they store the food they’ve hunted in their large gular pouches before returning to the nest and regurgitating the chewed-up fish to feed their chicks.

I am once again left to wonder if the children have a choice to eat at home or how far they might get trying to survive on their own in a hostile world.

I’m sure at least one will manage it, knowing that starvation might be preferable to living on leftover scraps. ”

Excerpt from the blog The Thing with Feathers

Celeste

I AWOKE TO birdsong piercing the early morning stillness.

I took a minute to stretch my tight back and limbs before standing, telling myself that it wasn’t too late to start training for another marathon, even if it meant just power walking for most of it.

I’d injured my knee six months before while jogging, and despite physical therapy it didn’t seem to want to heal completely.

Growing older had its challenges. But, as I frequently reminded myself and friends of the same age, it beat the alternative.

I pushed aside the lace curtains, still hearing Julie’s voice in my head telling me they were old-lady curtains . She’d probably been right twenty years ago, but I still liked them even if I didn’t consider myself an old lady.

I spotted the brown-and-white songbird right away. It sat on my windowsill, its tail wagging side to side as it sang and chirped its sweet and distinctive tweet. Fee-bee. Fee-bee.

I pressed my forehead against the glass to see it better. It tilted its head toward me so I knew it was watching me, too.

Maybe it was my artist’s eye that saw the varying shades of taupe, gray, and ivory in its feathers. Its face wore a sweet expression, reminding me of a dolphin’s, and when it opened its beak to chirp out another fee-bee, fee-bee , the sound high and melodic, I saw much more than an ordinary bird.

The sound of feet running down the stairs reminded me that Will had stayed over the night before because Liam was seeing patients this morning. I let the curtain fall then grabbed my bathrobe from the foot of the bed and slid it on along with my slippers.

Annie roused herself from her own bed next to mine and gave a big stretch before slowly trotting to the bedroom door. She was almost ten in people years and thankfully still mobile and sharp, despite losing some of her hearing. We were two women of a certain age living together for companionship.

I heard the sound of Will’s Xbox as I entered the kitchen. I stuck my head into the living room. “You could be reading a book instead.”

He didn’t turn away from the screen, but I could see the side of his mouth turn up in a smile. “I could.”

“Let’s stop by the library later today so you don’t waste away with your hands frozen on those controls. Your mother would never forgive me.”

He laughed, his hands and eyes still focused on the game. “No, thanks.”

“Excuse me?”

Will sighed. “All right. But I get to pick the books myself.”

“Of course,” I said. “Just don’t pick any with covers I might be embarrassed to see.”

“Whatever,” he said as I turned back to the kitchen to let Annie outside and to make breakfast.

An hour later we left the house for Annie’s morning walk to the park, Will holding her leash.

He hadn’t complained when I’d pulled him away from his Xbox mostly because I’d promised that we’d stop at the Pitt Street Pharmacy’s soda fountain to get a thick chocolate milkshake but also because he loved Annie and seemed to enjoy spending time with his grandmother.

When I continued straight on Pitt Street, Will said, “You just passed the pharmacy. Shouldn’t we stop for a bit? Annie’s getting old, and I think she needs a break.”

“Nice try, Will. You’ll get your milkshake later. Let’s keep going. Unless you can’t handle it.”

He scoffed. “If you get tired, jump on my back, and I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”

“What about Annie?”

“I can hold her, too.” He smiled that beautiful smile that was just like his father’s and grandfather’s, and my heart melted like ice cream on a summer’s day.

“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. You’d probably pass out from heat prostration.”

“If I do, we can always call Dad to give me CPR. He knows how to do it.”

I slid a glance toward my great-grandson. “Are you sure?”

Will looked at me with surprise. “He’s a doctor, Gran. All doctors need to know CPR. Isn’t that sort of what they do all day?”

“Sort of,” I said. “I know your dad saved someone’s life once when he was a little older than you are now. Did he ever tell you the story?”

“No, he didn’t! So what happened?”

I wasn’t surprised that Liam hadn’t shared his moment of heroism with his son. Most likely because he didn’t consider himself a hero for doing what he said anybody else would have done given the same circumstances.

“He saved a nine-year-old girl after she’d been hit by lightning.

Which is a good reminder to seek shelter when you see storm clouds, and not under a tree.

” I gave him a stern look. More than once I’d caught him standing out in the yard during a storm, and after I’d dragged him inside, he’d said that he wanted to watch the lightning to see if it was true that lightning never struck in the same place twice.

“That’s so cool,” he said. He reached down and plucked a small stick from the sidewalk to toss to Annie when we reached the park.

As we continued straight on Pitt Street, Will turned to me. “I thought the park was that way,” he said, pointing to the right.

“It is, but I wanted to go this way. I’m hoping to run into a new friend.”

“Why didn’t you call her?”

“That’s a very good question. I think because I just saw her last night.”

“And you don’t want her to think you’re a stalker?”

“No.” I paused. “Maybe a little. I like her, and I think she could use a friend. But the thing is I need her help with something, but I don’t want her to think that’s the reason I’m her friend.”

We stopped to allow Annie to sniff a patch of grass. Will looked up at me and scrunched his eyes. “Aren’t you old enough to have figured all that out by now?”

“It’s never too late to figure out new things. Let’s just go knock on her door and ask her to come walk with us. She has a niece about your age, Ophelia. Maybe the two of you can hook up this summer.”

Will made a strangled sound in his throat. “I think you mean hang out . Hook up means something I’m not supposed to know about, but my older stepbrother uses it a lot.”

I sighed. “Ophelia is a nice young lady. I’m sure you’ll get along just fine.”

“Does she like playing Xbox?”

“I know she likes to read, but you can ask her yourself about the Xbox.”

We’d made it to the Manigaults’ street. I’d only ever driven by their house and had never been invited inside.

Until the lawsuit, I’d never had a reason to be on a familiar basis with either Charles or Elizabeth, my awareness of them confined to the Moultrie News where their names made frequent appearances due to his involvement in local politics and hers in reference to the Garden Club.

And then the lawsuit had made front-page news and I’d stopped reading it for a time, unable to bear the biased reporting about my grandson being raised in a broken home by a grandmother who worked full-time, leaving her two grandchildren home alone to fend for themselves.

There’d been little mention of Liam and Julie’s father’s accidental drowning, focusing instead on his mother’s suicide shortly afterward, leaving the two children orphaned.

The unfairness had driven me to find the Manigaults’ house at the far end of the Village, perched in an ideal spot facing the marsh, to see where the kind of people who would sue a young boy for saving their daughter might live.

“Look at that car!” Will said, pointing toward the white house with the unmistakable red roof.

I had to get a little closer to see where he was pointing.

A dark blue sedan had been left in the front yard with one flat back tire on the drive.

The front tire on the same side was also flat, the rubber appearing to be melting into the sparse grass.

The car’s front door had been left open and a plastic cup still partially filled with an amber liquid lay on its side on the ground next to the car.

As I approached, I noticed a tan leather purse on the passenger seat, a half-eaten burger partially wrapped in a napkin rested next to it.

Annie began pulling on her leash, undoubtedly smelling the burger or my sudden nervousness.

Something wasn’t right with this whole scene.

“Will, I need you to wait here. Please hold tight to Annie’s leash. I just need to make sure everybody is okay.”

“Sure, but shouldn’t I come with you? You might need my help.”

I grimaced, not sure if he thought I was too old or if he considered himself more intimidating than he was. “It’s all right. I’ll let you know if I need assistance.”

He gave me a serious nod as I turned toward the porch steps.

I rang the doorbell, hearing the soft chime from somewhere inside.

I listened for the sound of approaching footsteps, my worry growing at the silence.

A grandfather clock chimed once, marking the quarter hour, and I waited for another minute before ringing the doorbell again.

My worry had begun to dip into dangerous territory, making me wish I had a cell phone, when the doorknob turned and the door slowly opened. Ophelia gazed up at me through smudged glasses and smiled in recognition.

“Miss Celeste,” she said, her voice sounding more relieved than surprised.

“Is everything all right?” I asked, deciding to save the lecture about opening doors before determining who was on the other side.