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Chapter seventeen. Carly was unpacking yet another box






Carly was unpacking yet another box. She hated moving. But it wasn't like she'd gotten used to the apartment. In fact, she hated the apartment. Especially her upstairs neighbors, who were apparently night people, and came and went at all hours of the night. That, she would not miss.

She stood in her living room and looked around. It was coming together. She had spent the entire morning putting her kitchen in order, then moved to her office. She'd actually hooked up her computer last night and unpacked several boxes of books. Once she had everything set up, she did remember to print out the brochure, just in case Pat stopped by today.

Now, after stopping long enough to eat canned soup for lunch, she was tackling the living room. The first thing she did was hook up her stereo. She sorted through her box of CDs and pulled out a Sarah McLaughlin, setting the volume high while she stacked her CDs, all in alphabetical order. Then, she added the few DVDs she owned.

The framed prints she loved were leaning against various walls. She would hang them later. She stared at one in particular, that of a Whooping Crane at sunrise, and it reminded her of the one on Pat Ryan's website. Maybe later...someday, she would inquire about buying one of Pat's.

" Hey."

" Jesus! " Carly jumped, hand going to her racing heart.

" Sorry. I need bells, I know, " Pat said with a grin.

" How do you do that? "

Pat shrugged. " Lots of practice. But I did knock."

" Where? " Carly asked.

" On the front door."

Carly hit the remote, turning the music down and faced Pat. Today, she wore jeans and Carly thought she looked even more attractive than she did in shorts, if that were possible. She suddenly felt terribly underdressed. Her old sweat pants were baggy and worn and the T-shirt she'd grabbed that morning had see better days.

" I guess I need a doorbell, " Carly said.

" Am I interrupting? "

" No, of course not. I'm just unpacking. I printed out the brochure for you earlier, " Carly said and she moved past Pat and into her office. When she turned, Pat was standing in the doorway.

" Looks good, " Pat said. " The desk and bookcase...beautiful pieces."

" Thanks. My grandfather had them forever in his office. When he retired, he gave them to me."

" Retired? From? "

" He was an attorney. As are my father and both brothers, " Carly said.

" Why didn't you follow? "

" I just didn't have the calling, I guess. I always wanted to be a vet. My grandfather was the only one who supported my decision."

" But you're not a vet. Or are you? "

" I was two semesters away and switched to Wildlife Biology. I thought I could make more of a difference that way. But I was young. I didn't realize all the obstacles."

" Politics? "

" Politics and indifference."

" Well, we do tend to take things for granted, " Pat said.

" Yes, most people do." Carly stopped before she launched into one of her sermons. " Let's go to the table. Do you have photos? " she asked.

Pat held up the envelope she'd had tucked under her arm. She followed Carly, smiling at the baggy sweats she wore. She looked comfortable. Adorable, she added, surprised at her thoughts.

Pat handed the envelope to Carly and took the printed brochure. She pulled out a chair and began reading, hearing Carly's voice in the words. Concise and to the point, no sugar-coating. She frowned. It needed sugar-coating, she realized.

Carly spread the prints out, her eyes widening. They were great. God, the sunrise over the bay was beautiful. She smiled. Pat's cardinals. She ran her finger over the nest, as if to touch the young. Then she laughed. The male was definitely defending his nest.

" This one's great, " she said.

" Yes. I thought that would make a great print. For the Visitor's Center, " Pat said. " Aunt Rachel said you wanted some to display there."

" Yes, we do. But this is very good. I mean, this is your profession. You could sell this."

" I shot it on your time, " Pat said.

" It's not like I'm paying you. And this doesn't really reflect the preserve. We're all about shorebirds and ducks and marshes, " she said.

" Well, obviously, cardinals live here, too."

" You're very good."

" Why, thank you, Dr. Cambridge. I know you had your doubts."

" Not really. I checked out your website."

" Ah, so you did have your doubts."

Carly laughed. " Okay, yes. After our first meeting, I may have had my doubts. I thought maybe Rachel sent you here just to irritate the hell out of me."

" And I thought she was doing it just to irritate me."

" What do you think of the brochure? "

Pat raised her eyes and met green ones for just an instant. " It's...harsh, " she said. " It doesn't paint a very pretty picture."

" It's not supposed to. The marshes have been destroyed. The land has been changed to meet man's needs...and cows needs. Of course it's harsh."

Pat shook her head. " If I got this in the mail, I would think all was lost and I would not want to give a dime."

With hands on her hips, Carly glared at Pat. " What the hell are you talking about? "

" This. It's all doom and gloom. I'm depressed reading it. It doesn't give me the warm fuzzies."

" You're supposed to be depressed reading it. That's what makes people give money."

" You're joking? No, I disagree."

" You disagree? "

" Yes. People want to feel like they're giving to a good cause. Something with a bright future. You paint this dismal picture, as if all hope is lost. What good is money going to do to help this place? You've already doomed it."

" As if you know anything about preserving land! "

" I'm just saying, we're contradicting ourselves here. You paint this dismal picture of this place, yet we put pretty pictures in the brochure of birds. What are we telling people? "

" We're telling people this is what it could be."

" Why not tell them the land's been fucked over but you're restoring it and look, beautiful cardinals are already nesting here."

They stared at each other, green eyes locking on blue for an instant, then Carly smiled and Pat did the same.

" Okay. It's fucked. Let's tell them that, " Carly said and laughed.

" Carly, the statistics are great, the outlook is great but in between, it sucks."

" Jesus, I hate you, you know that? "

" Yes, I figured."

" Okay. Just, everything's always been black and white with me. I have a hard time glossing over things."

" I think you should focus on what's being done to improve and restore this place instead of what's been done to destroy it. Talk about restoring the marshes, talk about wanting the Whooping Crane to locate here, talk about the hundreds of ducks and shorebirds that can make this their home. That's what people want to give money to."

Carly stared at her, wondering where the indifferent photographer had gone. The woman speaking these words was sounding like an activist.

" You're not quite as uncaring and indifferent as you make yourself out to be, huh? "

Pat smiled. " I guess I never really thought much about it before."

Carly sighed. " Okay. You're probably right. I was on my soapbox when I was writing this." She pulled the brochure from Pat's hands, scanning the words she'd written, seeing them with different eyes. Yes, it was harsh. Yes, it was dismal. God, she hated her.

" Got any beer in this place? " Pat finally asked.

Carly looked up, embarrassed. She was a terrible host. " I'm sorry, yes." She moved to get up but Pat stopped her.

" I'll get it. Want one? "

" Please."

Carly continued reading the brochure, mentally making changes. She noticed the beer Pat put in front of her and she reached for it silently, her eyes still scanning the document.

" You don't mention the Visitor's Center in much detail, " Pat said. " That'll be the first thing people see when they come here, the first place they go. Why don't you talk about what you want the Visitor's Center to be, " Pat suggested.

" Perhaps I should let you write this. You seem to be the only one with ideas."

" No. I have a hard enough time writing captions for my photos." Then she shuffled through the stack on the table, finding the ones of herons and egrets she'd shot previously. " What about these? Don't you think we could use something like this to show what will be here eventually? "

Carly studied them, each bird captured uniquely in its setting. Yes, they could use them.

" Shorebirds? " she asked.

Pat found some others. Unidentified shorebirds, she liked to call them. They all looked alike to her.

" Greater Yellowlegs. Willet. Marbled Godwit, that's a great shot, " Carly said as she named them.

Pat stared, stunned.

" Hopefully, these will all be here. Yes, we can use them. I'll rewrite this. We can include these, along with your cardinals, of course. I'm supposed to meet with the printer Wednesday afternoon. Do you think you can go with me? "

Pat still stared at the prints. " How do you know what these are? They're not in the goddamn field guide, " she said.

" Of course they are, " Carly said.

" They're not in my field guide, " Pat said.

" They're in all field guides, Pat. Can you go with me, please? " Carly asked again.

" Yes. I'll go with you."

" Good. It's in Corpus. There's no point in you coming all the way out here just to go back again. I'll pick you up."

" Okay. When you get off the ferry, stay on the main road and go to the third light. Go right on Sandpiper. Take the second left, Gulf View..."

" I should probably write this down, " Carly said. She found pad and pen. " Okay, right on Sandpiper. Second left, Gulf View."

" Right on Perry's Landing. Fourth house down."

" About two? "

" That's fine. And I'm sorry if I offended you with all this, " Pat said, pointing at the brochure that lay between them.

" No. In fact, I should thank you. No one's read it other than you. To me, it made perfect sense. I guess I wasn't looking at it objectively."

" Well, I better head back. Supposed to rain later. My Jeep is still topless."

" Yes, mine too. I guess I'll pull it into the old barn out back."

" Well, if the weather holds, I may be out this way. If not, I'll see you on Wednesday."

" Thanks, Pat. I really appreciate everything you're doing."

" No problem. I'm actually beginning to like it myself. All this environmental stuff is brainwashing me, I think."

Carly walked down the stairs with Pat, just now noticing the dark clouds gathering over the bay. Rain for sure tonight.

" Be careful, " she said as Pat slammed the door to her Jeep. She doubted Pat would make it home before the rain hit. She had half a mind to ask her to stay.

Later, as she sat at her computer rewriting the verbiage for the brochure, she thought of Pat. She really had no intention of liking her as much as she did. In fact, after their first meeting, she was certain she could not stand to be in the same room with the woman. But, as Elsa had said, she was a goddess. One of the most attractive women Carly had ever met. Her thoughts went to Carol, the woman who had used her so thoroughly all those years ago. She, too, had been attractive. Too attractive. And Carly had been too blind to see anything but that. Carol had wined and dined her and before Carly knew what happened, she had fallen in love. She had sold her soul. And almost lost her life.

She had vowed she would never again give herself to another person. The pain was too great. She poured herself into her work and was never even tempted by another woman.

Why, then, did Pat Ryan fill her thoughts?


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