When they were done, everyone was laughing except for Gordon. He walked up to the board, smiling. “Since we’re the only official couple here,” he said to Linnea, “let’s give it a go.”
John released Linnea and jumped off the board. Gordon nimbly climbed up, took a firm hold of Linnea, and once again Cooper punched the play button. This time the Beach Boys were singing “Surfin’ Safari.” As Cooper rolled the video and the girls shook the fabric, Linnea put on a grin and tried to play the part of the fun surfer girl. But the moment had passed, and it felt forced. She saw John opening the cooler and pulling out a beer; he opened it, tilted his head back, and downed it.
When they were done, Cooper called out, “Got it. We’re good!”
“Wait! Give me a chance,” Pandora called out, rushing to the board. “Gordon, don’t jump down. I need a partner.”
Linnea got down while Gordon helped Pandora climb aboard. She looked sexy in her designer bikini next to the handsome man in a wet suit. Knowing Pandora’s luck, this video would probably win the challenge.
Linnea took Pandora’s place at one end of the fabric and, on cue, the speaker played “Wipe Out” again. As the guitar strum rolled, Anna and Linnea began creating the wave effect again, panting with effort. Anna speared her with a look that clearly said, What’s with her?
Linnea couldn’t help but wonder the same.
chapter thirteen
If it’s not one thing, it’s another.
TOGETHER THEY FINISHED the barn project, separating the wheat from the chaff. The trash was collected from the street the following morning—in the nick of time. Heavy rains hit the lowcountry again, driving everyone back indoors.
Linnea stood at the kitchen window washing the breakfast dishes and watched Cooper, Gordon, and Anna scurry to their cars in the rain. She listened to the car engines fire up as one by one they drove off—Gordon to the Marine Resources Research Institute on James Island, Anna to the South Carolina Aquarium in Charleston, and Cooper to the building site in Mount Pleasant. She wasn’t jealous that they had jobs. She only felt lost that she did not.
After she finished tidying the kitchen, she went to her room, where the stack of fabrics she’d discovered in the barn was now piled on the dresser. She’d washed several bolts and folded them, and now they sat waiting for her imagination to decide what to do.
She wanted to be useful. She was one of the lucky ones in the pandemic. She wasn’t sick. She didn’t have to worry about being evicted. She had roommates to help with expenses. People who had her back. As Cara had told her when she was laid off, “We pay it forward.”
Linnea picked up a pattern with sea turtles, and thought again how it would make for great masks for the aquarium. Ones that made people feel good about wearing them. Smiling, Linnea went in search of her sewing machine.
* * *
THAT EVENING, LINNEA sat at the kitchen table putting the dozens of masks she’d sewn into bags. She looked up when the front door swung open and Anna stomped in, hazel eyes blazing, sputtering with rage. Her khaki pants were soaked from the knee down, as were her tennis shoes. A pool of water collected where she stood in the entry.
“What on earth?” asked Linnea.
“Flooding!” Anna shouted.
“Was it bad?”
Flooding was a problem of biblical proportions in Charleston. Linnea knew, as many locals did, to avoid going into the city when it rained.
“Goddamn,” Anna swore. She wiped wet hair from her forehead. “When is this city going to get a grip on the flooding? It doesn’t even have to rain to flood anymore.” She bent to pull off her shoes and socks with angry movements.
Cooper, hearing her shouts, came in to investigate. “Hey, Anna. You look like the proverbial wet hen.”
She shot him a sideways glance. “Thanks.”
He laughed and went to the fridge. “The city needs some kind of barrier.”
“You mean the wall. I don’t know what good that would do,” Linnea said. “Most of Charleston is built up from swampland. It’s been flooding since the city was built. I think they should consult Holland. They’re experts at keeping the water out.”
Anna strode in and headed to the sink to wash her hands. “Well, they’ve got to do something. And soon. I’m so mad I could cry. Trying to get home was a nightmare.” She grabbed the towel and dried her hands with agitation. “I took all these side routes to avoid flooded streets and ended up caught on a one-way street that was flooded. Some ass was behind me honking and there was no place to turn around. So I tried to get through.”
Cooper, scanning the contents of the fridge, paused to look at Anna. “Oh no.”
“Oh yeah,” she replied. “I got halfway through and, sure enough, it got deep. The car died.”
“Oh no,” Linnea sighed in commiseration.
“That saltwater is death for an engine,” said Cooper.
“Ya think?” Anna scowled and said, “Hand me a beer, would you?”
Cooper reached in and pulled out a few. Linnea put her hand up to refuse. After handing Anna her beer, he asked, “So where’s your car now?”
She took a long swallow. “Sitting in the street, blocking traffic. It has to be towed. There’s a long list of us waiting to get our cars towed.”
“I’m sorry,” Linnea said. “Can it be repaired?”
“I don’t know,” Anna said morosely. “Even if it could, I doubt I could afford it.”
The reality of this shocked Linnea. She knew too well how tight money was. “What are you going to do without a car? You have to get to work.”
Anna bent her head. “I don’t know.”
“I’ll drive you.”
Linnea turned her head to see Gordon standing at the outer door into the kitchen. He had returned from work and already had a beer in his hand from the loft.
“Hey, come on in.”
Gordon smiled and came to gently kiss her. Then, straightening, he focused again on Anna. “I couldn’t help but overhear. I drive through the city every morning on my way to James Island. I can drop you off. We’ll have to work out how you’ll come back. I can pick you up on days I’m not doing fieldwork.”
Cooper offered, “I’ll pick you up on the other days.”
“Thanks, guys. Really.” Anna looked at the bottle in her hands. “I don’t know how long I’ll be working anyway. There are whisperings of another layoff until they can open the doors again. But in the meantime,” she said with renewed energy, “I’m going to study up on the flooding situation. There’s a lot of controversy about it. What’s that saying, revenge is best served cold? Mine will be ocean temperature.”
“Watch out, world,” Cooper said, clinking bottles with her.
“Great idea,” Gordon said with encouragement. “Dig in. Research. Get your own answers.”
“Right,” she said, a light sparking in her eyes. “That’s just what I’m going to do.”
* * *
A WEEK PASSED in a whirl of sunny, hot days, and the turtles were busy laying eggs on the beaches. Linnea slapped the sand from her hands and surveyed the nest. Three wooden stakes held the orange tape that surrounded the nest, protecting it from foot traffic. The mother turtle had laid the nest smack in front of a beach access path, so Linnea had moved the eggs to a safer location high on the dunes. Ninety-two eggs was a decent number. Only time would tell how many hatchlings would emerge in fifty or so days.