Suddenly, Mamaw yelped and jerked back her rod. “I got one!”
In a chorus of cheers, everyone leaped to join her. Giddy with her good luck, and perhaps a bit less surefooted from her “tea,” Mamaw hooted while the girls laughed and whistled. Carson leaped for her camera to capture Mamaw’s comical struggle. Mamaw finally reeled in the smallest red drum Carson had ever seen.
Dora laughed at the sight of it dangling from the line. “Sure was a lot of fight for such a puny fish.”
“Hey,” said Carson defensively. “It’s the only fish we caught!”
“Well, take a picture of my prize,” Mamaw said, holding the little fish proudly in the air. “Before I toss it back in.”
Nate was a hound on the scent, close at Mamaw’s side as she grabbed a pair of pliers.
Carson wasn’t sure Mamaw wasn’t too woozy to wield the pliers and stepped in, but Mamaw indignantly waved her aside.
“I’ve been fishing since before you were even a glimmer in your father’s eye. Now, stand back.” She grabbed hold of the fish and deftly removed the hook. “Nate, honey, do you want to do the honors and toss this puny fish back into the water?”
“Yes,” Nate replied in a voice husky with fear and excitement. To his credit, he reached out with both hands and clasped the fish tightly. It wiggled but Nate held on as he walked to the front of the dock with his arms held stiffly before him.
Carson followed him, hoping he didn’t squeeze the fish to death before he released it. Looking over the railing, she was surprised to see Delphine, her mouth open and her gaze on Nate holding the fish over the water.
“Don’t feed the dolphin!” she cried out, but it was too late. Nate released the fish.
In a flash, Delphine leaped to catch the fish adeptly in her mouth. She tossed it in the air, caught it again, and dove, disappearing with her treasure.
Nate burst out in a high-pitched laugh of delight. He leaned far over the railing on tiptoe, beaming, as he searched for signs of Delphine. Dora put her hands to her lips, eyes wide in amazement at the sight of her son’s joy. This was the first time she’d seen Nate smile all weekend.
Delphine positioned herself beneath the dock and made a series of staccato, nasal calls to an appreciative audience.
Harper sat at the dock’s edge dangling her feet in the water. Despite generous lotion and her floppy hat, her skin was turning pink. “I think she wants more fish!”
“She’s begging,” Carson said with disapproval, looking down at the dolphin and shaking her head. “She must’ve been fed fish before. That explains why she’s so friendly. Oh, stop it,” she called out to Delphine. “Ladies don’t beg!”
“Is that the same dolphin that was here this morning?” Mamaw asked.
“That’s Delphine,” Nate announced. “She is Carson’s dolphin.”
“She’s not my dolphin,” Carson said again, getting the sense she was fighting a losing battle. She looked into the water to see Delphine waiting below, her dark eyes gleaming. “You’re not helping,” Carson told the dolphin, but as always, Carson couldn’t help but smile back.
“How did she get here?” Harper asked. “At our dock?”
Carson tried to downplay the drama. “What can I say? She likes me.”
Mamaw laughed with pleasure. It was a lovely trilling sound, feminine but not silly. “You always were our little mermaid.” She reached out to gently cup Carson’s face in her palm. Then she turned and leaned over the railing to stare imperiously down at the dolphin. Delphine tilted her head, staring back in her beguiling manner.
“You are a pretty thing, aren’t you?” Mamaw declared.
As she straightened, a breeze caught her coral-colored silk scarf and sent it floating in the air. Mamaw gasped and Carson lunged to grab it but the scarf floated just out of her reach, sailed in the air a moment, then landed in the creek.
“Off it goes,” Mamaw said with a sigh. “It was only a Ferragamo.”
Delphine took off after the brightly colored scarf floating in the water. Curious, the dolphin poked at the floating fabric like it was a piece of flotsam, then lifted it in the air and tossed it. She grew excited by the game and swam around the scarf in a tight circle, tossing it a few more times. Then she grabbed the scarf and disappeared with it under the surface.
“You little thief!” Mamaw called out at the widening ripples.
“She’s back!” Harper said, pointing to the dolphin emerging farther out in the cove. Then she burst out laughing. “Oh. My. God.”
Delphine returned to the dock dragging the coral scarf around her pectoral flipper, looking like a lady walking along the boardwalk.
Everyone started laughing then, even Mamaw. She leaned over the dock railing. Beneath her, Delphine was dragging the Ferragamo scarf in her mouth. Carson lowered the camera and gazed at the faces of her family—Harper, Dora, Mamaw, Nate—recognizing that this was a singular moment for them all. Everyone was smiling and laughing, and it was this enigmatic dolphin that had appeared from nowhere to bring them to this tipping point.
“At least you display good taste,” Mamaw called out in her inimitable imperial tone. “Welcome, Delphine, you little minx! I hereby declare you one of my Summer Girls.”
Carson, Harper, and Dora clapped and hooted, united in Mamaw’s welcome of the dolphin. The mood shot upward as Delphine paraded her scarf in the water beneath them.
“I want to catch another fish for Delphine,” Nate declared, walking off to fetch his rod.
“Wait. No. We shouldn’t,” Carson called after him. “There are laws forbidding feeding dolphins. Fines.”
“Oh, why not?” Dora asked, getting caught up in Nate’s enthusiasm. “Who’s going to see us? And what harm can feeding one little fish do? It’s their natural diet, isn’t it? Nate is so excited. I haven’t seen him get so interested in anything else but his video games. And look, she obviously wants it!” She hurried over to Nate’s side.
Mamaw picked up some bait and waved Nate closer. “Bring your rod. You’d better get crackin’, boy. You’ve got a customer waiting.”
“Don’t worry,” Harper said, tapping Carson’s arm in a consoling fashion. “It took all afternoon to catch that one fish. I doubt they’ll catch another.”