That seemed to please her. As they strolled the beach, the sun was setting and Will could tell that Ronnie was feeling more relaxed. They’d ended up catching and releasing three more fish before he drove her to downtown Wilmington, where they’d enjoyed lunch on a deck that overlooked the Cape Fear River. Drawing her eyes to a spot on the opposite bank, he’d pointed out the USS North Carolina, a decommissioned battleship from World War II. Watching Ronnie inspect it, Will was struck by how easy it was to spend time with her. Unlike other girls he knew, she said what she meant and didn’t play stupid games. She had a quirky sense of humor that he liked, even when it was directed at him. In fact, he liked everything about her.
As they approached her house, Ronnie ran ahead to check on the nest tucked into the base of the dune. She paused at the cage—it was made of chicken wire and secured into the sandy dune by extralong stakes—and when he joined her at the dune, she turned to him doubtfully.
“This is going to keep the raccoon away?”
“That’s what they say.”
She studied it. “How do the turtles get out? They can’t fit through the holes, can they?”
Will shook his head. “The aquarium volunteers remove the cage before the eggs hatch.”
“How do they know when they’ll hatch?”
“They’ve got it down to a science. The eggs take around sixty days to incubate before they hatch, but that can vary slightly depending on the weather. The hotter the temperature is all summer, the quicker they’ll hatch. And keep in mind that this isn’t the only nest on the beach, and it wasn’t the first one, either. Once the first nest clears, the others usually follow within a week or so.”
“Have you ever seen a nest hatch?”
He nodded. “Four times.”
“What’s it like?”
“It’s a little crazy, actually. As the time approaches, we remove the cages, and then we dig a shallow trench from the nest to the water’s edge, making it as smooth as possible, but high enough on the sides so the turtles can only go in one direction. And it’s weird, because at first only a couple of eggs are moving, but it’s like their movement is enough to set the whole nest going, and before you know it, the nest is like a crazy beehive on steroids. The turtles are climbing over each other to get out of the hole, and then they hit the sand and head toward the water in this little crablike parade. It’s amazing.”
As he described it, he got the sense Ronnie was trying to picture the scene. Then she noticed her dad stepping onto the back porch, and she waved.
Will motioned to the house. “I take it that’s your dad?” he asked.
“Yup.”
“Don’t you want to introduce me?”
“Nope.”
“I promise to have good manners.”
“That’d be good.”
“So why won’t you introduce me?”
“Because you haven’t taken me to meet your parents yet.”
“Why do you have to meet my parents?”
“Exactly,” she said.
“I’m not sure I follow what you mean.”
“Then how on earth did you ever make it through Tolstoy?”
If he wasn’t confused before, he was completely baffled now. She started walking slowly down the beach, and he took a few quick steps to catch up with her.
“You’re not exactly easy to figure out.”
“And?”
“And nothing. Just noting it for the record.”
She smiled to herself, glancing toward the horizon. In the distance, a shrimp trawler was making its way to port. “I want to be here when it happens,” she offered.
“When what happens?”
“When the turtles hatch. What did you think I was talking about?”
He shook his head. “Oh, we’re back to that. Well, okay, when do you leave for New York?”
“Late August.”
“That’s cutting it close. Just hope for a long hot summer.”
“It’s off to a good start. I’m boiling.”
“That’s because you’re wearing black. And jeans.”
“I didn’t realize I’d be spending most of the day outside.”
“Otherwise you would have worn a bikini, right?”
“I don’t think so,” she said.
“You don’t like bikinis?”
“Of course I do.”
“Just not around me?”
She tossed her head. “Not today.”
“What if I promise to take you fishing again?”
“You’re not helping yourself.”
“Duck hunting?”
That stopped her. When she finally found her voice, it was disapproving. “Tell me you don’t really kill ducks?”