Except that this quest her grandmother had embarked on was likely to provide plenty of complications. Didn’t she realize that? Maybe she did, and she just wanted the other parts of her life settled so she could save her strength for the battle over Ned’s name.
Miz Callie stopped, staring at the gentle ruffle of the waves. The tide was going out, leaving long, shallow tidal pools behind—a favorite playground for children. In an hour or two, they’d start appearing on the beach, little family parties of a mother or a set of grandparents laden down with chairs, umbrellas, maybe a cooler, ready for a few hours on the beach with the kids. The air would fill with the excited voices of the young.
“We fall into the rhythm of the ocean when we’re born here,” Miz Callie said softly, almost as if she were talking to herself. “Maybe that’s why Bodines never really thrive away from the sea.”
Her grandmother had a point. Her brothers had followed the family tradition and gone into the Coast Guard. They couldn’t conceive of a life that didn’t involve the sea.
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