The Summer's End

She’d run hard, putting distance between herself and the pain she’d felt at Carson’s snarky comments. They were nasty and unfair and had hurt her already tender feelings. But the running had taken the sting out of the words, and sitting here, winded and her fury spent, Harper had calmed enough to see Carson’s venom for what it was—hurt, jealousy, and fear. All emotions she understood.

Squeezing her fingers in the warm sand, Harper wondered if the words burned more because they came from Carson. She was usually upbeat and genuine. Caring. Harper had always admired Carson, looked up to her, from the first moment they met.

She recalled the first time she’d seen Carson when Harper had arrived at Sea Breeze. Harper was six years old, like a tiny doll, small and delicate and all fancy dressed in a smocked dress and anklets that had frilly lace trim, with a big bow in her red and gold hair. In contrast, Carson was wearing a sand-crusted swimsuit and torn cutoff jean shorts. She was as brown as a berry, barefoot, and her wild, dark hair was salt dried and sticking out in angles.

Harper loved Carson on the spot. She looked wild and confident, everything Harper wanted to be. What her heroines looked like in her imagination. Carson had taken Harper’s hand in a protective manner and led the way to the library, where Mamaw had created a bedroom for Harper. The moment Harper had walked in and seen all the books, she broke into her first smile.

Their friendship had blossomed slowly over that summer. Looking back, Harper saw that it was fate that she’d arrived that particular summer when Dora was letting go of Carson’s hand. In doing so, Dora was letting go of her childhood—games and make-believe—and welcoming all the drama associated with teen years. Harper had arrived just in time to fill the void that Dora had left.

In fact, because of all the adventure books she’d read, Harper was better at their games of imagination than even Dora. Oh, the make-believe she and Carson had played! Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn had them floating down the creek looking for Injun Joe. Treasure Island and Mamaw’s stories of their illustrious ancestor the Gentleman Pirate sent them hunting for buried treasure year after year. Tuck Everlasting had them convinced they’d find the pool of immortality. And Peter Pan was the ultimate adventure for young girls living on an island who loved pirates, mermaids, and fairies.

Looking back, Harper could see how Carson had helped her blossom at Sea Breeze. Every summer Harper would arrive looking like a prim schoolgirl on a class trip. Within a few days of her arrival on Sullivan’s Island it was as if she’d removed her timid, submissive self with her fancy clothing and allowed herself to be the bright, inquisitive, adventurous girl lurking inside. She and Carson were inseparable. Their hearts beat with the pulse of the tides.

Then the inevitable happened. Carson, too, grew older and put away her childhood games. The final summer that they’d spent together was mostly whiled away on the beach. At sixteen Carson was consumed by surfing, and eleven-year-old Harper tagged along to sit under an umbrella and read. The next year Mamaw wrote to Harper that Carson wouldn’t be coming to Sea Breeze. She’d decided to stay in Los Angeles and get a summer job. Although the invitation remained open for Harper, she didn’t want to spend the summer alone. Her mother had just purchased the house in the Hamptons, and Harper elected to spend the summer there instead. And that had been that.

Carson didn’t see Harper again until years later at Dora’s wedding. They’d both privately groaned at having to wear the pink, frothy gowns but dutifully did their duty. The next time they saw each other was a year later under sadder circumstances. Carson had been too distraught at their father’s funeral to share much with her sisters. And soon after, they came together again for Granddad Edward’s funeral. All the joy at Sea Breeze seemed to have been shrouded with sadness.

That was the last time all three sisters had been together at Sea Breeze until this summer. Yet, this summer had proved that time and distance couldn’t break the bond they shared. Harper could get mad at her sisters, disagree with their choices, distance herself from them, but they were always with her. They were her blood. Her family.

Now it was time for them to close ranks.

Harper rose and slapped the sand from her damp legs. She slowly stretched while looking out at the serene sea, the waves rolling gently to shore, one after the other. Not many days were left for any of them at Sea Breeze, she realized. Not with the offer to buy hanging over their heads. She didn’t want to spend her final days here fighting. They were all on shaky ground now. Hot-tempered and spike-tongued. She didn’t want one more moment of anger between them.

Harper knew what she had to do. Turning toward Sea Breeze, she took off on a run.

Carson sat on the dock with her feet dangling in the water, staring idly out at the racing current. She felt like a piece of the driftwood floating by, aimless and of no value. Her left hand clutched a small brown paper bag. Inside was a small bottle of tequila that she’d hidden away when the sisters and Mamaw had all taken the pledge to ban alcohol from Sea Breeze at the beginning of the summer.

Mamaw’s words stung. Shame on you. Carson felt them deeply because she knew she deserved them. She was ashamed.

Carson knew in her heart that Harper’s motives to buy Sea Breeze were genuine and selfless, like the woman herself. Harper was amazingly generous, more so than anyone else Carson had ever met. It was not because Harper had money. Carson knew plenty of people who had gobs of dough but held on to it with a miserly fist, always suspicious that someone might be trying to take advantage of them or steal it. They were not nice people to be around. Harper was that rare person who didn’t act as if she had money or prestige. If she had any fears or suspicions, they were that people liked her only because of her money, rather than for herself.

Carson put her hands to her face. She was most ashamed because she knew this was Harper’s most vulnerable point, her soft underbelly, and she’d targeted it with her barbs.

She was so good at hurting people. After Blake had left her at the coffee shop, she’d wandered around alone for a few hours, in a daze of depression. Blake’s parting words resounded in her brain. You weren’t the only one to lose a baby. Carson squeezed her eyes tight.

Why did she always feel everything was her fault? she wondered. Why couldn’t Blake see she wasn’t ready to let him or anyone else in that close? She’d lived a life of taking care of herself, taking care of her father. Of trusting her instincts.