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“I’ll be forever grateful to you,” Molly continued. “I came here with a broken heart I thought was unrepairable, and you played a big part in putting it back together again. You reminded me what it meant to hope.”
The turtle moved her head closer to Molly as if urging her to go on.
“Fine, it wasn’t just you. Turtle Rehab reminded me why I got into animal medicine in the first place, Hadley and Ellyn reminded me what true friendship looks like, and Grant…”
His name got stuck in her throat.
Grant.
It was hard to put into words the role Grant played during her time in Emerald Cove. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the bench behind her, sucking in a deep breath. Grant had been responsible for reminding her of all the L-words.
How to live, how to laugh, how to listen and be listened to. How to linger and to learn.
How to love.
The word swirled around in her chest like the colors of a kaleidoscope. Was she in love with Grant? Possibly. Or maybe it’d be more accurate to say probably. What she felt for Grant was unlike anything she’d ever felt before, mostly because he was unlike anyone she’d ever met before.
No, the problem wasn’t if she loved him or not. The problem was if love was enough.
The truth was, as much as her time in Emerald Cove had healed her shattered heart, there were still scars that went deeper than time could repair. The question she had to figure out before she met up with Grant later tonight was, could she go all in? Or would those scars cause her to hold back forever?
“What do you think, Hope? Stay on or get off?”
Hope moved both her front flippers as if trying to paddle forward.
“Stay on, huh?” It wasn’t a surprising choice. Hope had been the poster child for hope since the first weekend Molly had arrived in Emerald Cove. She’d hung on long enough to get rescued. She’d worked through all of her rehabilitation goals in record time, and she hadn’t hesitated to meet her release criteria the day they’d been set. Hope didn’t give up. “And you’ll do great once you’re home. The whole wide ocean is waiting for you, my friend.”
But Molly wasn’t sure the same was true for her. Her heart sank as she considered there were some scars that seemed too big to overcome.
The disappointment of her own situation and the heartache from the impending goodbye overcame her, and tears slid down her cheeks. “I couldn’t be happier for you, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to miss you any less. Why do goodbyes have to be so hard?”
She had a feeling this was going to be the theme of the next two weeks, which felt a little ironic for the chapter in her life whose sole purpose was to be able to walk away unscathed.
“The best-laid plans and all that,” she said to Hope as she brushed the tears off her cheeks. She sucked in a cleansing breath and refocused her outlook. Saying goodbye might be hard, but if anyone was going to reclaim beauty out of ashes, it was Hope. “It’s time to get you home, my love. And, as Mateo would say, it’s going to happen in T-minus fifty-nine seconds.”
She watched the second hand on her watch tick down the exact time on the schedule. It ticked only one too many before the double doors of the ambo swung open. Molly had to blink against the blinding light of the mid-afternoon sun. But when her eyes adjusted, Grant’s face came into focus.
“Let’s do this.” Excitement lit his handsome features, and she couldn’t help but let it trickle all the way through her, as well. Like she’d said, the question wasn’t if she loved him.
Molly slid to the edge of the ambo and, once on the ground, she reached in and pulled the crate toward them. With the help of a couple of volunteers, they lifted it to the ground.
“Tell me about the imminent wildlife threat,” Molly asked Grant.
“Nada. Claire is on one of the offshore boats watching the radar, and other than a school of medium-sized fish and a gorgeous eagle ray about five hundred yards offshore, there’s nothing out there.”
Molly breathed a sigh of relief. “Hope feels so much better knowing that.”
Grant chuckled. “Good to know. Now, what do you say we send her home.”
“Let’s do it.” They pounded knuckles across the top of the crate before they both kneeled to grasp either side of Hope’s sturdy exterior shell.
There was a rope running from either side of the turtle ambo down to the water’s edge, creating a walkway. Two Turtle Rehab technicians led the way, and Grant and Molly followed behind, carrying the star of the show. People, lots and lots of cheering people, lined either side all the way from the truck to the sea.
The noise was almost deafening. The cheers and whistles and celebrations rang out all around them. Somewhere in the distance, Molly was vaguely aware of a familiar microphoned voice giving a play-by-play of what was happening, but all she could focus on were the turtle in her hands, the man at her side, and the steps in front of them.
They walked into the cool water and continued on until the hem of her Team Hope shirt was wet and Grant slowed. They were still holding Hope above the waves, but by the way her front flippers had started moving, she knew exactly where she was.
“We’re waiting for the go/no-go call, then we’ll walk four more steps and set her on top of the water.”
