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Toy sat on the precipice of the sand dune looking out over the wave-scarred beach. Another day was ending. Around her the sea oats were greening and above, a nighthawk streaked across the slowly deepening sky. The tide was coming in, carrying seashells, driftwood and long-harbored memories tumbling to the shore.
She identified with the loggerhead sea turtle in her dream. Was it merely that the turtles were on her mind? She searched the restless sea that spread out to forever under the vast sky. Out in the distant swells, the sea turtles were gathering for the nesting season. Toy sensed the mothers out there,biding their time until instinct drove them from the safety of the sea to become vulnerable on the beach and lay their eggs.
It was an emotional time of the year for her. Each May when the sea turtles returned to the Isle of Palms, she felt the presence of her beloved mentor, Olivia Rutledge, returning with them.
She hugged her knees closer to her chest. This small dune on this empty patch of beach was her sanctuary. She came often to this sacred spot—to think, to remember, to find solace. She felt closer toOlivia Rutledge here—Miss Lovie to everyone she'd met. This dune had been Miss Lovie's favorite spot, and on some nights, especially when the sun lowered and the birds quieted, as now, Toy imagined she heard Miss Lovie's voice in the sweet-scented offshore breezes.
It had been five years since old Miss Lovie had passed. Five years spanned a good chunk of her life, she thought, considering she'd only lived twenty-three. After Olivia Rutledge died, Toy had worked hard every day of those five years to make a better life for herself and for Little Lovie, her daughter. That had been a vow made at Miss Lovie's gravesite and a promise to her infant daughter.
"I did my best to keep my vow," she said aloud to Lovie Rutledge, feeling her spirit hovering close tonight. "I finished college, got a good job and I've made a nice home for Little Lovie. All tidy and cheery, with flowers on the table, like you taught me. I want so much to be a good mother." She rested her chin on her knee with a ragged sigh as the longing from the dream resurfaced.
"So, tell me, Miss Lovie. Why don't I feel that I am? Or content? I'm still like that turtle in my dream, swimming toward someplace I can't seem to get to."
A high pitched cry shattered her thoughts. "Mama!"
Toy's gaze darted toward the call. Her young daughter sat a distance from the shoreline surrounded by colorful plastic buckets and spades. Her long blond hair fell in salt-stiff streaks down her back as she bent over on hands and knees before the crude beginning of a sand castle.
"What do you want, Little Lovie?"
"Mama, come help me with my castle!"
Toy sighed, sorely tempted. "I'm working, honey."
"you're always working."
She saw a scowl flash across Little Lovie's face before she ducked her head and went back to her digging. Mingled in the muffled roar of the ocean she heard Olivia Rutledge's voice in her mind. Stop what you're doing and play with your child!
Toy desperately wanted to play with her and enjoy each precious, fleeting moment with Little Lovie. She felt an all too familiar twinge of guilt and paused to allow her gaze to linger on her daughter. Little Lovie was carefully molding another tower with her chubby hands.
That child was happiest when she was at the seaside, Toy thought, her heart pumping with affection. Whether collecting shells, digging castles or rollicking in waves, as long as she had her toes in the sand she was content. She was only five years of age, yet Little Lovie was so much like Miss Lovie Rutledge that Toy sometimes believed the old woman's spirit had returned to settle in her namesake. For Toy, the sun rose and set on her child. And it was for her child's future that she gathered her discipline.
"Let me finish this report," she called back. "Then I'll come help you finish that sand castle."
"I promise, okay?"
Her daughter nodded and Toy resolutely brushed away grains of sand from her notebook and returned to the report that was due by morning. She was an Aquarist and had been placed in charge of her own gallery at the South Carolina Aquarium. It was her first break and she needed to prove that she was capable of the responsibility.
The noseeums and mosquitoes were biting in the sticky humidity and blown sand stuck to her moist skin but she worked a while longer, determined to finish in the last of the day's light. A short while later she closed her notebook and raised her gaze toward her daughter. Another lopsided tower had been added to the castle.
But her daughter was gone.
Toy's breath caught in her throat as her eyes wildly scanned the beach. "Lovie!" she cried out, leaping to her feet.
Toy swung her head around toward her daughter's voice. Little Lovie was arched on tiptoe at the water's edge. The bottom of her pink swimsuit was coated with a thick layer of damp sand and she was pointing excitedly toward the sea.
Toy ran across the beach to grasp hold of her daughter's slender shoulders. "You know you're not supposed to go near the water," she scolded, even as her eyes devoured her child and her hands gently wiped sand from her face. "You scared me half to death."
The five-year-old was oblivious to her mother's concern. Instead, her large blue eyes were riveted to something in the surf.
"It's right there," she cried, wiggling her pointed finger urgently.
"I see it!"
"What do you see, a dolphin?, Toy turned her head back toward the Atlantic to peer into the rolling surf. Then she saw it. A large dark object floated at the surface not more than fifty feet out.
It wasn't a dolphin. She squinted and moved a step closer. Could it be a turtle? The dark hulk appeared lifeless in the waves. "You stay right here," she ordered in a no nonsense tone, and this time, Little Lovie didn't argue.
Toy rolled her pants higher up on her slender legs,coiled her shoulder length blond hair in a twist at the top of her head, then walked into the sea for a closer look.She felt the chilly spring water swirl at her ankles, calves and then dampen the hem of her shorts as she waded forward, intrigued by the shadowy object bobbing on the waves.
It was a turtle! It had to be at least two hundred pounds—and it looked dead. What a pity, she thought and she wondered if this was a nesting female holding eggs. It was always a shame to lose an adult turtle, but to lose a nesting female was a tragedy. The loss was one of generations.
A wave carried the turtle closer and Toy's stomach clenched at the sight. It looked like she'd been floating for a long time. She was badly emaciated and the shell was dried and covered from tip to tip with barnacles.
"Poor Mama," she muttered. There'd been too many dead turtles washing ashore in the past few years. "Barnacle Bills" the turtle team called them, and this was another to add to the list. She'd call and have DNR pick the carcass up in the morning. Toy was about to turn back when she saw a flipper move.
"She can't be—" Toy bent forward, squinting. A breaker smacked her legs but she kept her eyes peeled on the turtle. A flipper moved again.
"She's alive!" she called out to Little Lovie.
The child jumped up and down, clapping her hands. Toy hurriedly waded closer to Little Lovie to be heard. "Honey, I'm going to need some help. Run up to Flo's house and tell her to come right quick, hear? Can you do that?"
The child took off like a shot for the dunes. Just beyond was the white frame house of Florence Prescott, the leader of the island's turtle team. Flo was very active in the community and always out doing something for someone, but she was usually home at the dinner hour. At least Toy hoped she was today.
She turned back toward the turtle. The inert creature was floating with her posterior up, like a lopsided rubber raft. She'd have to haul her in. She sighed and looked at her clothes. Well, they were half-soaked anyway, she thought as she began wading toward the turtle.
The pebbly sand suddenly dipped and sliding down, her toe was sliced by the sharp edge of a shell. White pain radiated up her leg and looking down, she saw the murky water stained red with blood. The turtle was drifting farther away in the current. Ignoring the pain, she kicked off to swim to the floating hulk.
The big turtle was in much sorrier shape than she'd first realized. As she drew near, the turtle's dark, almond eyes rolled in her large skull in a mournful gaze.
"Don't be afraid, big girl," she said to the turtle, feeling an instant connection. "I'll get you out of here in no time."
A small wave slapped her face as she swam around the turtle. Her eyes stung and she spit out a mouthful of saltwater. Once behind the rear flippers she could get a good handle on the shell. Then, using the carapace like a kickboard, she began kicking and pushing the turtle toward the shore.
She was making good progress when she caught a quick silvery flash of movement in the corner of her eye. Her breath hitched as she scanned the vista. The water's surface was turning glassy in the brilliant colors of the setting sun. She hesitated, not fooled by the serenity. Dusk was feeding time for sharks.
Toy knew she was in a vulnerable position. The predator would be curious about the sick turtle—an easy prey. With her toe bleeding she knew the smart thing to do would be to leave the turtle and get out of the water.
Then she saw it again. This time it was unmistakable. The slim, v-shaped dorsal fin broke the surface, heading her way in a lazy, zigzag pattern. Toy froze as the shark neared, then swiftly veered off. The turtle's instinct flared and her flippers feebly stroked in the surf. The shark surfaced again, but this time farther out by the inlet.
"Well, no one ever said I was smart," she told herself, gripping the turtle's shell. With a grunt, she pushed with all her might, propelling the turtle forward. She repeated this twice more before her feet hit sand. The shark was closer again, circling in a pattern of surveillance.
That bull shark was four feet of sleek danger and she knew it could attack in shallow water. She hurried to the front of the turtle and grabbed hold. "We're not home yet," she muttered and began tugging the enormous turtle in. Behind her on the beach she heard Florence Prescott calling her name.
"Hurry, Flo!" she cried over her shoulder.
With athletic grace that belied her advanced years, Flo ran straight into the water, her tennis shoes still on.
"Drag her out of the water," Toy cried with urgency. "We've got company."
Flo looked over her shoulder. "God damn," she muttered.
Little Lovie ran into the surf, arms reaching for the turtle. "Let me help!"
"Lovie, you get back on the beach this instant!" Toy ordered.
"But I want to help!"
"Do as your mama says," Flo told her. "Sharks nibble hatchlings in ankle deep water and your toes are just the right size.Go on now,git."
Little Lovie scrambled out of the ocean.
Flo grabbed hold of a side of the turtle's shell. Her deeply tanned arms spoke of many years spent in the sun. "On the count of three."
With a heave-ho, they shoved the turtle up the final few feet to the edge of the beach. Out of the water, the full impact of the huge turtle's weight was felt. It was like pushing a boulder and it took all they had to get the turtle to scrape sand till only the tips of the incoming tide caressed her rear flippers.
The turtle remained motionless. Toy plopped down on the sand beside her and lifted her foot to check out her wound. She was shocked to see that the cut in her big toe was deep and bright red blood trickled in a steady flow. And it hurt like hell. It hit her how reckless she'd been to stay in the sea with a bleeding wound. Raising her gaze, she looked again out at the sea. The shark had already disappeared beneath the murky water. She started to laugh with relief.
"What are you laughing at?, Flo asked. "Is that a cut you've got there?, She swooped down like a mother hen.
"I'll be the judge of that. Those shells can be like razors. Let me see it."
"Really, Flo, I'm okay."
"Bring it here." Flo bent and, grabbing hold of Toy's foot, studied the toe closer. She clucked her tongue. Little Lovie hovered nearby, mesmerized. After a quick perusal, Flo released the foot and rose to a stand. "Put some antibiotic ointment on it and you'll live."
Toy looked up at her daughter with a reassuring smile. "I can't believe you went out there with a shark trailing you," Flo said. "You know better."
Toy took the scolding with good nature. "I didn't see it when I swam out and I wasn't sure I was bleeding." She snorted and added smugly, " But I got her in, didn't I?"
Florence Prescott usually had something upbeat to say about most things, but she looked at the turtle with a frown and shaking her head said, " I'm not sure it was worth the risk. This turtle looks barely alive. And she's covered with gunk. I've buried strandings that looked better than this one."
Excerpted from Swimming Lessons by Mary Alice Monroe Copyright © 2007 by Mary Alice Monroe. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Posted December 14, 2011
Posted November 2, 2011
I love this author. Her books inspire me to keep reading. I almost wish she would do more sequels to her novels; but I guess we can draw our own conclusions as to what happens to the characters. Keep up the excellent work; can't wait to read the next novel. Thank you.
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Posted July 22, 2011
Swimming Lessons is the sequel to Mary Alice Monroe's "The Beach House". I loved this book and think it is even better than its predecessor. I fell in love with the characters, their love of nature, the ocean, their determined spirit and their love and support for one another. Great book!
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Posted June 21, 2013
Posted January 13, 2013
Mary Alice Monroe has quickly become one of my favorite authors. Her writing is so descriptive and you can't help but fall in love with the characters and setting. I was a bit unsure about this book when I started it as I don't often find sequels to be nearly as good as the original book. However, this book was just as good if not better than The Beach House. I would definitely recommend this gem of a book.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted November 22, 2012
Posted July 28, 2012
Posted June 25, 2012
Posted March 7, 2012
So sad to have this book end. I loved The Beach House and this continuation was just as good. You fall in love with the characters...wishing there was another turtle lady book!Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted January 6, 2012
I have herd Mary Alice speak on a number of occasions and find evefything dhe writes a favorite. She relly does her homework before each book. I look forward to her new book and another chance to hear her speak.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted October 18, 2011
Posted October 6, 2010
I read Beach house and Swimming Lesons and they were both wonderful stories. This is the first time I had read a sequel. After reading Beach House I could not put Swimming Lessons down wondering what was going to happen next I am an avid reader and love Mary Alice Monroe.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted June 29, 2008
I could not put this book down. After reading her novel the Beach House and being able to revisit those characters lives again was just fantastic. It has it all. Love, friendship between women and the bond they share.All of her books are great but this one surely was a special gift if you read the BeachHouse a couple of years ago. It would be a great read even if you did not read the first book because somehow the author lets you catch up on the lives of everyone. Please don't wait too long to put out another fine read. My family and I wait for your books to come out. Marie DavisWas this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted May 8, 2007
Posted December 9, 2008
The ailing sea turtles washing ashore by Charleston, South Carolina have become a media circus as reporters question why they came ashore and what can be done to save them. This, in turn, leads to the locals, especially children and their parents, demanding that something be done to save the sea turtles. The local South Carolina Aquarium selects Toy Sooner to find a way to obtain funding to set up sea turtle medical clinic.-------------- Single mom Toy works on the grant while trying to care for her daughter, Lovie. She works directly with the aquarium¿s director Ethan Legare on the project. When she succeeds in obtaining the funding, she is elated to be placed in charge of the sea turtle hospital at a time when she is attracted to Ethan and her former spouse Darryl, just released from prison, returns insisting he wants to be in her life and that of their offspring.-------------- Turtles and location loosely connects SWIMMING LESSONS to the Southern Fiction family drama THE BEACH HOUSE, but readers do not need to obtain the previous South Carolina based tale as this delightful charmer needs no introduction. The story line is at its best when it either focuses on the plight of the sea turtles or on Toy¿s complex relationships with the two men demanding to be in her life exacerbated by her daughter¿s desires. Though late suspense seems an unnecessary detour, readers will enjoy Mary Alice Monroe¿s fine contemporary tale.-------------- Harriet KlausnerWas this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted July 24, 2011
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Posted July 5, 2011
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Posted July 8, 2011
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Posted January 13, 2012
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