he sprinklers were swirling all morning on the Fourth to help the garden perk up for the party. They’d rented long tables to place on the back screened porch and covered them with bright-blue paper tablecloths, paper dishes, plastic forks and spoons and the fresh flowers Lovie had brought home from the florist. Nobody wanted to spend the evening washing dirty dishes when there were fireworks to be seen. Cara and Toy twisted and taped red, white and blue crepe paper and added balloons with flags on them in the corner. Cara also strung white lights around the room, something her mother had always done. She’d thought they were like stars when she was a child and hoped Linnea and Cooper would, too.

She walked into the living room in search of more tape when she spotted her mother arranging photo albums on the living room table.

“What’s all this?” she asked.

Lovie looked up from her task smiling with pride. “These are the fruits of my labor for the past few months. An ongoing project. I’ve gathered all the loose photographs of the family into some kind of order at last. I had no idea there were so many. They’ve been stuffed in shoe boxes for years. Come look,” she said, sitting down on the sofa and pulling out two albums. “I’ve separated yours and Palmer’s childhood photos, one for each of you. I thought you’d like to keep them.”

Cara came closer to join her mother on the plump, floral sofa. She took the album labeled Caretta in gold and ran her hand reverentially over the fine, soft navy leather.

“Thank you,” she replied, moved. “It’s beautiful.”

Lovie smiled, anxiously fingering the album. It was plain to see the albums meant a great deal to her.

“The rest of the photos I placed in albums and grouped them in years. It seemed the easiest way.”

Cara glanced over at the albums on the table. There were at least ten and they represented decades. “So many years,” she said, suddenly feeling each of her forty. “You’ve done an incredible job.”

“I’m not done yet,” Lovie replied, flushed with the compliment. She leaned closer to look over Cara’s shoulder as she opened up the album.

Cara enjoyed sitting beside her mother, pressing shoulders with their hands almost touching as they leafed through the pages. They skimmed over photos of Cara learning how to swim in the surf, fishing with Palmer, performing in piano and school recitals, teary eyed but smiling as she boarded the bus to camp, and dressed up in all sorts of costumes for Christmas pageants, Halloween and Easter. Cara relived the happier moments of her childhood, years that anger had clouded.

“Look at this one,” Cara said chuckling. There was a proud Palmer, not much older than Cooper was now, chest puffed out and a tooth missing, with two meaty fists clutched to the wheel of the boat. “Like father like son.”

Lovie laughed too, leaning forward for a closer look. They flipped through several more pages, then moved on to other albums, slowly moving forward year by year. Cara recognized most of the photos but seeing them again brought smiles of recognition. She realized as the hour passed that her mother had done much more than chronicle her and Palmer’s childhood or the family’s history. She’d collected experiences and emotions for the family to remember and cherish forever.

“Who is this?” she asked, pointing to a photograph of a tall, striking man with white-blond hair that was tousled in the wind. He wore khaki shorts and had his sleeves rolled up. Most arresting was his wide, engaging smile. Lovie stood beside him in the photograph, straight and prim in a broad-rimmed straw hat. Beside her was an enormous loggerhead on the beach. “He’s very good-looking.”

There was a short silence as Lovie studied the photograph with uncertainty.

“I’m not sure,” she replied. “I believe he was someone who came to study the turtles.”

Unlike before, when Lovie had gone on and on relating a story associated with a picture, she remained silent and uneasy. Attuned to her mother’s nuances, Cara looked into her face. There was a slight flush to her cheeks and she inched her fingers to cover the photograph.

“He looks vaguely familiar,” Cara said.

“It was the turtle’s photograph I wanted to keep,” she said as she turned the page.

“Wait.” Cara tapped the page back with her forefinger. “I remember him now. He came by a lot one summer, then he went away. Emmi and I were sorry when he didn’t come back the next summer. He was a nice guy. He didn’t ignore us or push us aside like most adults.” She drummed her fingers on the album as her mind dug back. “What was his name? R-something. Robert? Randolph?”

“I believe his name was Russell something or other.” She cast a quick, assessing glance toward Cara, then firmly turned the page. “It was a very long time ago.”

“I suppose. But looking at all these photographs, it seems like yesterday, doesn’t it?”

Lovie closed the album and rested her hand over the leather. Her smile was bittersweet. “Yes, it certainly does.”

Julia arrived later that morning with Linnea and Cooper in tow. The children scrambled from the SUV and charged up the stairs, their flip-flops clapping against their heels and beach towels trailing.

“Grandmama Lovie! We’re going to the beach!” Cooper shouted as he ran into his grandmother’s arms.

“Yes, we are!” Lovie exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him.

Linnea came rushing up to hug her grandmother with exuberance.

“Settle down there,” Julia called out, following them at a slower pace. “You’re going to knock your poor grandmother over. Cooper, let go of her neck! Linnea, honey, go to the car and fetch those flowers you picked out special from Grandmama’s garden.” She reached the porch and shook her head, chuckling softly with a mother’s pride. “Hey, Mama Lovie,” she said breathlessly, coming close to deliver a kiss. Her hands were filled with a covered casserole dish. “Where do I put this?”

Cara stepped forward. “I’ll take that for you. How are you, Julia? You look like you’ve been out on the golf course.”

“Tennis,” she replied, following Cara into the kitchen. “But it’s these two hooligans who are running me ragged. They were fit to be tied all night waiting to come. I finally told Palmer flat out that I wasn’t going to force these children to make an appearance at all those parties today. We’ve done enough of that over the years. Today is Mama Lovie’s party. I tried to talk him into coming with us, but you know Palmer and business. He’s still making the rounds, but he’ll be by in a little while.”

“He’d better not eat at those parties,” said Cara, squelching her flare of disappointment. How could Palmer put business over his mother at this time? She knew full well that Palmer would not show up until much later. “We’ve been cooking for three days.”

“Mom,” Cooper screeched from the porch. “I want to go to the beach!”

“Then stop your caterwauling and go get your swimsuit!”

Cara thought they looked like a circus caravan as they walked single file along the sandy path to the beach. Lovie led the group like a petite drum majorette in her red sundress and broad-rimmed straw hat trailing red, white and blue ribbons. Cooper followed, an adorable clown in oversize plastic sunglasses and wreathed in an orange floater. Behind him, Linnea wrapped herself pareo style in a towel and had a Walkman at her ears, desperately trying to be grown-up. In contrast, Toy seemed like a little girl in her cheerful gait. This was the first time she’d gone to the ocean since she’d arrived on the Isle of Palms. Once she found out that Emmi’s sons had opted for surfing over an afternoon with the family, her nervous frown disappeared and she began to enjoy herself, agreeing to wear her new maternity swimsuit after all. Julia and Cara were the pack mules. They carried umbrellas, the cooler, extra towels, beach chairs and toys galore.

It was a classic family holiday at the beach, almost like being a child herself all over again. Linnea and Cooper vied with each other for her attention. Being children, they knew a captive audience when they spotted one. Aunt Cara, look at me! Aunt Cara, try this! Come here, Aunt Cara! The three of them swam in the ocean until their fingers and toes pruned. They built mighty sand castles on the shore and gathered shells. Julia took advantage of the free baby-sitter and sat under the umbrella with Toy and Lovie to read the novel that Cara had brought down.

After only an hour, however, Lovie had a coughing spell that interjected a dose of reality to the day. She waved away their concerns as she rose. “Forgive me, children, but I’ll be fine if I go back to the cottage to rest before dinner.”

“I’ll come with you.” Toy gripped the sides of her chair to rise.

“Don’t you dare get up. I can certainly walk back home by myself. I’ve done it enough times. Now just settle back and enjoy the sun. What will you do with yourself at the house while I lie down in the bed?”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. Tell Cara where I am so she doesn’t start looking for me. Someone should be home anyway, lest Palmer arrive.”

Julia waved that suggestion away with her hand. “Don’t hold your breath, Mama Lovie. If he starts partying early, then who knows when he’ll get here?”

Alone in the cottage, Lovie relished her solitude. Although she loved having her family around, she needed quiet time more than ever now to keep up her strength. She prayed a good deal these days, too. Not for herself, but for her children. Before she left them, she wanted to see them happy and content.

She walked out to the new porch that Cara had pursued with such energy. Resting her hands on the freshly painted white railing, she looked at the row of rosebushes and all the newly planted palmetto trees. The transformation was remarkable. Looking out, she felt as though she’d stepped back in time. But she was more pleased with the change in her daughter this past month.

Cara had arrived home with an emptiness inside her. Lovie could see it in her eyes when she looked at the sunset. Her daughter was still searching for fulfillment, spreading her energy around in countless outside tasks rather than quietly focusing inward. But the turtles would help her find her way home, Lovie thought to herself with a small smile of satisfaction. Going to the ocean every morning, putting her hands in the sand, sitting by the nests at night—all these activities would steer her on the right path.

But Palmer…

She smoothed out the tablecloth and arranged a few flowers in the vase as she considered her son. She had come back to the house early hoping to catch a moment alone with him. He would not like what she had to tell him. She slumped down into her favorite rocker and looked out over the dunes and ocean, rocking back and forth. In the waning hours of the afternoon, she prayed for the strength to do what she had set her mind to.

Palmer found her on the porch. “Hey, Mama,” he called out in his boisterous voice.

She startled. She’d been so lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t heard him come in. Turning, her heart melted to see her son’s eyes light up at the sight of her. It had always been this way with him. She knew he’d walk through fire for her. It was just such a shame that his hot temper sometimes started those very fires. When he bent to kiss her cheek, she smelled the strong odor of bourbon on his breath. This didn’t portend well. Nothing flamed the fires like a dousing of alcohol.

“Will you look at this place?” he said, craning his neck to get a good view of the new porch and pergola. “I couldn’t believe it when I drove up. This porch looks just like I remember it. Cara and I used to play Monopoly in that corner over there for hours and hours.” His eyes glazed and she could see that he was remembering those halcyon days when the hours were strung out before them like pearls. “Y’all did an incredible job. I am all amazement. How did you get it done so fast? Julia can’t get someone in to fix a broken window.”

“We’ve all worked hard but the job was pure pleasure.”

“Whoever built this thing,” he said, putting his hand to the pergola and giving it a shake, “did a fine job. It’s built like a tank. It’ll take a hurricane to knock it down.” He gave her a wink.

“Do you remember Brett Beauchamps? The credit goes to him.”

Palmer’s eyes lit up. “Hell, that ol’ rascal? I haven’t seen him in ages. He built this? Well, I can’t believe it. I remember him tearing things down. Talk about divine justice. What’s he up to these days when he’s not building porches?”

“He’s dating your sister, for starters.”

“Come again?”

“Brett and Cara are seeing each other.” She wagged her brows. “Sparks are flying.”

“They say opposites attract, but I don’t know about that. How long has this been going on?”

“Only a few weeks but I have my hopes. He’s quite a catch.”

He shook his head. “It’ll never happen. She’s a die-hard spinster. Besides, there isn’t a woman alive who can catch that big ol’ fish. Let me tell you, they’ve been angling since high school.”

Lovie bristled at hearing Cara called a spinster. It was something Stratton would have said. “We’ll see,” was all she replied.

Palmer’s gaze traveled beyond the porch to the grounds. He put his hands on his wide hips and a slow smile stretched across his face. “Yessir, this place looks all spiffed up. You’ve done a nice paint job, new shutters and landscaping to boot. Looks to me like you’re fixing to sell it, Mama.”

She saw the excitement in his eyes and hurried to tamp it down. “No, dear, that’s not it at all. Quite the contrary. We did it strictly for us.”

The light in his eyes quickly doused. Pursing his lips, he sat slowly down in a wooden rocking chair, gripping the armrests and rocking back and forth a few times with his eyes fixed on her. The silence was as heavy as the humidity.

“I thought we talked about this, Mama,” he said at length with a weary voice that sounded patronizing to her ears.

“So we have.” Lovie rose from her chair to move her rocker from the other side of the porch. Palmer sprang to his feet to carry it for her and place it right across from his. Once they both settled down again, they rocked a moment in silence, each knowing the other was merely biding time.

It was Lovie who spoke first. “I think, Palmer, since we’re alone, it’s time for you and me to talk about this issue one last time.”

“If you want,” he said in a drawl. “I don’t know what more there is to say. I know you want to keep it, but like I said, the numbers just don’t add up.”

“It’s interesting that you should put it in just those terms,” she said in a calm voice. “Robert Davis used the exact words.”

He stopped rocking. “What’s Bobby Lee got to do with this?”

“I went to see him in his office. After you and I talked a few weeks ago, I wanted to get a clearer picture of my financial situation. Bobby’s a very nice man, so polite. He took a world of time to explain things so I’d understand them. And I do. It wasn’t so confusing after all. Except, perhaps, for the part about how the numbers didn’t add up. I may not be as good with arithmetic as you are, Palmer, but I do know when two plus two doesn’t equal four. It appears there have been many more withdrawals from my account than I ever received.”

Palmer’s face paled. “You don’t think I’m stealing from you, do you? It’s a juggling act. Sometimes I rob Peter to pay Paul, but it all comes out even again in the end.”

Lovie gave Palmer a stern look. “Paul hasn’t paid back Peter in a very long time.”

“I can tell you where every penny went. You’ll get every cent back, I swear. You don’t understand business, Mama. How can I explain it to you?”

“Bobby Lee managed to explain it to me well enough. Why don’t you try?”

Palmer’s words were strained when he spoke again. “A transport business is a complicated animal. And, lately, it’s been tough going. If I don’t have the money in my accounts to pay off a debt when it’s due, I get the money wherever I can. It was only temporary, of course.”

“Of course. So, basically, I gave you an interest-free loan?”

He offered a humorless smile. “I guess you could say that. I thought we were all in this together. Guess I thought wrong. Do you want me to write you a check right now? ‘Cause I will. This very minute.”

“No, Palmer, that won’t be necessary. In fact, I don’t want a penny of that money back. I don’t even want to know where it all went. I give it to you, free and clear.”

He sat back in the rocker, puzzlement etched on his florid cheeks.

“I can manage fine without it,” she continued evenly. Then she cleared her throat. “However, I instructed Bobby Lee to transfer the rest of my funds into a new account which I will tend to myself.”

“You what? Mama, you can’t do that. You haven’t written a check in forty years.”

“I can and I have. Cara can help me. She has quite a good head for figures.” She paused to choose her words. “I don’t mean to contradict your own figures, Palmer, but Bobby Lee assured me that I do not have to move out of my beach house. I have more than enough money to stay here for as long as I need to.” Her lips moved into a forced cheery smile. “Isn’t that good news?”

Palmer’s face mottled. “You’re saying you don’t trust me?”

Lovie sighed. That was the truth of it, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it. It would hurt him too deeply and she loved him too much. “Let’s just say I’d rather trust myself.”

“That sounds like Cara’s doing. It is, isn’t it?” he said with a scowl. “She found out how much this place is worth and wormed her way in at the eleventh hour. I’ll just bet she talked you into all this sprucing up, too. On your dime. All this time I worried it was that Toy Sooner we had to watch out for, but it was Cara setting you up against me.”

“She was doing no such thing,” Lovie said with a scold in her tone. “No one is against anyone. You’re the only one making accusations.”

“So you’re saying she isn’t behind you taking over your own finances?”

“She recommended it,” Lovie replied honestly, then, seeing the spark of indignation in his eye, she sprang to Cara’s defense. “That kind of independence comes naturally to her. You fail to recognize that she has been successful in a man’s world. I don’t know why you find that so threatening. But to be honest, she didn’t pursue that suggestion. She didn’t have to. Over the past few weeks she’s shown me the courage to confront my fears. I’ve always found confrontations difficult, as you well know. I’ve been so willing to be taken care of by the men in my life. It was just the way things were done in my generation, I suppose. So don’t go casting blame. If anything, you brought this on yourself.”

“How did I do that? By advising you to sell? By asking you to move back in with me so I could take care of you? Was that so horrible?”

“Yes. Frankly, it was. I’ve told you again and again that I don’t want to live in town any longer. I’m happy here in my little beach house. I need peace and solitude now and it suits me. But you only want me to do what you think I should do, what’s easiest for you, without a thought to what I might need. Or want. Cara did all this—” she waved her hand to indicate the porch and grounds “—with her own dime, as you put it, and without a single thought for herself. She did it simply to make me happy.”

“I’m just sure she didn’t have any ulterior motives,” he said sarcastically.

Lovie drew herself up. “That’s enough, Palmer. Primrose Cottage is mine. I’ve given up everything else that’s ever mattered to me. More than I can ever tell you. This little cottage is all I have left of the only time in my life I knew true happiness. I clung to it when your father tried to wrest it away from me. He knew I loved it—and why. And it made him quite cruel. But that only made me all the more determined that he should never succeed. I gave him my house, my money, and I see now, my self-respect. But I never gave him my heart or my memories—or this beach house. And now you want me to simply give this place up to you? Now, at the end of such a long struggle? Palmer, do you think I would sit back and let you do this? Child, you forget, I’ve wrestled with a much bigger fish.”

Palmer appeared dumbfounded. When he spoke, his eyes were wild and searching. “I don’t know what’s going on here. I’ve never heard you talk like this before! You’ve never spoken a word against Daddy. Why did he want to take everything away from you? You were his wife, for pity’s sake. You were married for forty years.”

“I counted every one of them.”

“Then tell me why?”

“It’s not for you to know, Palmer.”

He looked hurt, then his gaze cooled. “So, there it is. I’m not to know anything. But I’ll wager Cara does. I don’t know what’s going on, but ever since Cara came home, things have been different.”

She thought to herself how true that was but for reasons entirely different than he was envisioning. “Palmer, you must stop all dreams of developing this property. I also saw Ashton Etheridge. I had him draw up the legal papers. It’s all done. Primrose Cottage will go to Cara when I die. Regardless of our problematic history, she is my daughter and it is only fair and right that I leave this place to her.”

A strange light came into Palmer’s eyes.

“I know you think I don’t appreciate all you’ve done for me over the years,” Lovie said. “I do. I recognize that you work hard and are a good provider for your family. But, Palmer, there is more to life than material possessions. These meaningless things cannot bring you happiness. My darling, think of what your father left you when he passed on. How meaningful was it? Is that the same legacy you want to leave your children?”

She began to cough, long and hard, unable to calm the spasm. Palmer gripped the sides of his rocker, his eyes betraying terror at seeing his mother ill. When the coughing finally subsided, she wiped her mouth with the tissues she kept near and straightened in her chair, catching her breath.

“Mama, I—”

“Shhh…it’s all right,” she hushed as her heart gradually came back to a normal pace. She took a last, long shuddering breath. “Don’t waste your time worrying about an old woman. Your children are out there, at the beach. Go on out and play with them. They need you, Palmer. They are your real treasures. And you need them.”

“What I need is a drink.”

He got up from the rocker to go fix one but turned on his heel and paced the floor instead. He seemed so distraught that Lovie wanted to rise and get the drink for him, to somehow soothe his ruffled feathers. But she could see a barrage coming and steeled herself.

“Well, I’ve got to hand it to you, Mama. This is one whoppin’ Fourth of July party you’re having. You sure know how to bring on the fireworks.” He whistled sharply, bringing her back up.

“What’s next on the agenda? Are we all gonna sit down at the table like some great, big happy family?”

She opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted by the sound of a man’s throaty baritone at the front door. She recognized it as Brett’s.

“Coming!” she called out in a cheery voice. She gave Palmer a silencing look that closed his mouth, then slowly rose and hurried out to answer the door.

“Happy Fourth of July, Miss Lovie,” Brett exclaimed. His arms strained to carry a large pot of steamed crabs.

“More food? My goodness, Brett, but we’ve already got more than those tables can hold. The legs are going to give out. I hope you’re hungry!”

“Don’t you worry. I’ve been out on the boat all morning talking till I’m blue in the face. All I intend to use my mouth for tonight is eating.” He set the crabs down on the kitchen counter and, looking up, caught sight of Palmer. His ruddy, tanned face broke into a wider grin of genuine pleasure. “Hey there, Palmer!” he said, sticking out his hand.

To her relief, Palmer brought an amiable smile to his face and shook the hand offered. He was very good at turning on the charm when called for. Lovie stepped back, enjoying the sight of two handsome men catching up. Brett was taller, his auburn hair windblown. He’d cleaned up for the party but was still in an island attire of khaki shorts and a short-sleeved shirt worn open over a T-shirt. In contrast, Palmer’s blond hair was neatly trimmed and he was conservatively dressed in an expensive polo shirt and pressed trousers. She saw the way Palmer’s sharp eyes studied Brett, too, now knowing how things were between Brett and Cara. They chatted for a few minutes before Brett looked her way.

“It’s awfully quiet around here. Where is everyone?”

“They’re all down at the beach. I was just telling Palmer that he should go on down and join them. The children are having such a good time. Why don’t you two go on?”

“I’m sorry but I can’t,” Palmer replied in a formal tone. “I’ve got to make a few more rounds before the night is over. You go on down, Brett. Maybe I’ll catch you a little later.” He turned to place a perfunctory kiss on his mother’s cheek.

Lovie closed her eyes tight against the bitter disappointment she felt in her heart. When she opened them again Palmer was already leaving the house. She quickly followed him out to the porch. “Dinner will be at six,” she called to his back.

“Don’t wait on me. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Palmer!”

He turned at the stairs to face her again, all traces of his joviality gone.

Her heart strained against her chest. “You mustn’t miss dinner. The children will be so disappointed.”

“They might as well get used to it. I had to.”

She reached out to him but he turned his back for the last time. Lovie stood on the front porch and watched her son walk away, the sound of each footfall causing her to wince.

The hatchlings remain quiet during the heat of the day, but at night, they scrape with their flippers, plowing through broken shells and compact sand, working as a team. This causes the floor of the nest to slowly rise to the surface.