Sanibel Scribbles by Christine Lemmon Read Free Book Online Page A

the weight that was pulling her down. She had finished telling them how Rebecca died by the time the sailboat finally showed up under full sail on the other side of the bridge. Grateful for their comfort,she stood embracing her parents and watching the pod of smiling dolphins now leaping through the air, weightless and exposing their pink stomachs behind the boat.
    She took a deep breath and got back into the car, looking ahead toward Sanibel and Captiva Islands, the most amazing islands in Southwest Florida, surrounded by the Gulf of Mexico.
    At the first stop sign on the island, they headed east down Periwinkle Way and drove another couple of minutes to the condominium where Grandma and Grandpa used to spend their winters, two birds of paradise—the Great Egret and the Snowy Egret—as they used to call themselves.
    “Mom and I say it every day, honey. We still can’t believe the timing of it all,” her father said as he opened the door of the condo. “We sold the businesses and the house, and planned on moving here to be closer to Grandma.”
    “And now, the loss of your friend,” added her mother. “There’s so much in life we can’t control.”
    “They both left at horrible times,” said Vicki. “I just can’t believe it.” That evening Vicki wanted a break from the morbid thoughts that raced through her mind. She wanted to forget that her friend had died, to toss the incident into her Sea of Forgetfulness. Her parents suggested they stay in for dinner, but she insisted they go out so they went for all you-can-eat shrimp-and-crab platters. Vicki’s parents tried urging her to return to Michigan for the funeral or to make phone calls to friends or send flowers. She appreciated their concern and their support, but still, as she spoke of it all, she felt like a dolphin tossed into a lake. Come morning she would be back in the ocean again, where everything made sense.
    She could only talk so much about it all and, instead, wanted to enjoy the feelings that came from being reunited and sharing a dinner with her parents. They were a close family after years of mopping floors, cleaning toilets, waiting tables and horseback riding together through the woods at her father’s ranch, the last of his entrepreneurial endeavors. Since the sale of the businesses and the southward migration a couple of months ago, they had only spoken on the phone and they had much to catch up on.
    After dinner, they returned to the condo, and Vicki went for a quick swim in the pool. It felt good, hiding from the humidity that had clung to her ever since she stepped foot off the plane, but she felt guilty, as if she should be around people who knew Rebecca and were mourning her death. She should be walking up to the open casket at a funeral, not splashing around in a solar-heated pool! She didn’t dare to smile because she should be wiping her eyes with a white handkerchief, not drying herself off with a beach towel. Instead of wearing a pastel-colored bikini, she should be wearing something dark, solid, and solemn. She didn’t want to cry because that would only rub in a fact she couldn’t accept: her closest friend had actually left this life without finishing anything she wanted to accomplish.
    Oh, why didn’t she just skip her flight and attend the funeral? How could she have made such a rash decision? She blamed it on shock. It had to be shock, because it all happened so fast that she didn’t know she had any options. Then again, she had to leave. Her hometown would always stay where it lay on the map, between Lake Michigan and Lake Huron, but everything comforting about it had changed. She felt a chill and missed the cozy mitten.
    That night in bed, minutes, perhaps hours, had passed when Vicki saw a woman sitting at the end of her bed. It took a moment for her eyes to focus and, like an Etch-A-Sketch filling itself out in midair, she gradually saw more detail: Rebecca’s long dark hair, tinseled in silver, then her royal