Night Swimming (16 page)

And what am I,
Lily wondered,
chopped liver?
Her grandmother had named her entire family as possible support, but not her. Bringing up Sean was the last straw.

“I’ll do it for you, Granny May.”

“Oh, no, Lily! I couldn’t ask that of you. You’ve got the study to complete—though if this storm comes, I’m not sure how much work you’ll be getting done. Have you listened to the forecast, Lloyd?” she inquired, but then continued before Lloyd Gans could reply. “No,” she repeated with a decided shake of her head. “Sean can move them for me. I’ll telephone him—”

“Really, Granny,” Lily insisted. “I’m more than happy to hang your pictures.”
All fifty of them.
But it could have been a hundred, and still she’d do it.

It bothered her profoundly that it was Sean to whom her grandmother instinctively turned.
Maybe she has to,
since you haven’t bothered to come home,
an inner voice reminded her pointedly. Well, she was home now, and it was
she
who’d rehang every etching, print, and Homeresque watercolor in her grandmother’s possession.

“Well, if you insist, Lily, dearest,” May Ellen capitulated with a radiant smile. “Why don’t you come the day after tomorrow?”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

What could make a horde of bored teenagers sit up
and pay attention?
Lily asked herself for the hundredth time. Ever since Sean had maneuvered her into speaking at their old high school, Lily had gone about her work with one part of her brain worrying over the question.

No solution satisfied her.

Inspiration came from an unexpected source.

In Lily’s case, creative genius wore tie-dye and multiple body piercings.

It was later in the evening and Karen, unable to find anything sufficiently entertaining on TV, had asked Lily if she could use her computer to look at some pictures she’d posted on her Web site.

With a nod to her laptop, Lily said, “Go ahead,” and returned to reading the proofs of an article she’d written on the current debate over artificial reefs. The article would be published in the upcoming issue of
Scientific
American
.

Karen sat down beside her and booted up the computer. A few minutes later, a flash of vibrant colors had Lily glancing sideways, curious to see what Karen had pulled up. The corrections Lily was working on, indeed, her entire article, were forgotten as she gazed at the image of a moon jellyfish.

Round and nearly transparent, except for traces of blue and purple, the jellyfish floated in front of a large elkhorn coral. The branches of the coral were visible through the body of the jellyfish. The photo had the quality of a wonderful abstract painting, and yet, all the elements remained immediately identifiable.

Lily scooted her chair closer to Karen. “God, that’s beautiful.”

Karen grinned, her eyes fixed on the screen. “Thanks. You really like it?”

“It’s incredible. How’d you manage to stay still for that shot?” The thread-thin lines delineating the jellyfish were incredibly sharp—no blur to betray the tremor of an unsteady lens.

“That was the trickiest part. I was super lucky. There was a patch of sand just in front of the elkhorn. I sat down cross-legged and held the camera tight against me. The hardest part was remembering to breathe.”

Lily smiled in understanding. “I have that problem, too. Forty feet below and suddenly, you see something unimaginably spectacular. At that moment, drawing air into your lungs is the last thing on your mind. I wish these biogeneticists would forget about cloning and concentrate on figuring out how to give us gills.”

Karen’s shoulders rocked with mirth. “Come on, you’re already as close to a mermaid as you can get. You want to abandon land completely?”

“It’s tempting. But then maybe I’d take all this for granted,” she said, pointing to the underwater world on the computer screen.

“Want to see my other pics?”

“Definitely. These are fantastic, Karen. I only wish more people could see what you’ve got here.” She stilled as a thought occurred to her. George Hunt, the head of Lily’s department at the Marine Center, had a favorite saying: “When you go to enlighten the public, use every resource at your disposal. Captivate your audience. Make them dream.” Who better to emulate than the center’s brilliant showman, the man who could transform ironwilled CEOs into misty-eyed donors?

And what better way to make an audience of hypercritical adolescents dream than with images such as these?

“Karen, can you use a computer to splice images together?”

“Into a film format? Sure, that’s a piece of cake. I did that with a bunch of photographs I took down in Mexico. They came out really well. I’ve got it on a CD in my room. I’ll go get it.”

A minute later, Karen had inserted the CD and was clicking the mouse in a series of rapid commands. “Wait until you see this. It’s totally orgasmic.”

The screen before them went black, dark as a night sky. Slowly, the large, striated mound of a brain coral, glowing greenish gray, came into focus. For a second that was all, the brain coral set against the eerie aquatic stillness. Then it happened. Across the coral’s surface, countless tiny polyps opened, releasing a salmon-colored cloud.

The coral was spawning.

Before their eyes, the cloud broke up, separating into rosy, bead-sized bundles, thousands upon thousands of them. The bundles drifted across the screen just as in life they drifted along the ocean’s current. It signaled the start of a journey of creation that might take months, until at last these tiny spawn settled on a propitious surface and began to divide and grow.

The scene over, Lily let out an unconscious sigh. There were few things as awesome as witnessing mass procreation, animal style. “Wow. Orgasmic indeed,” she murmured, echoing Karen’s description.

With a flash, a new image appeared on the screen. An angelfish approached, coming close, so close its mouth almost touched the lens of Karen’s camera. Then, shying abruptly, the fish was gone in a vibrant streak of black, yellow, and royal blue.

“Karen, would you be willing to put together a short film with these pictures? I’d love to show them to the high school kids I’m talking to tomorrow.”

Karen nodded, looking pleased. “ ’Course you can. Let’s go through them and you can pick out the ones you want.”

Time flew as they pieced together a twenty-minute film.

“Know what’d be really cool, Lily?” Karen asked, her brown eyes glowing with excitement.

“No, tell me.”

“If we burned some music and arranged it so that in between your narration, there’d be musical sequences.”

“By
music
, I take it you don’t mean Beethoven?”

“Are you kidding? And have the kids sawing
zzz
s? No, you need to give them something as wild as what they’re looking at.”

Lily patted Karen’s T-shirt-clad shoulder. “Sorry. Though it kills me to admit it, I think I’m already too old to know what high school kids consider ‘wild.’ ” She raised her hand as Karen opened her mouth, no doubt intending to inform Lily at length. “Nor do I particularly care,” she added with a smile. “But if you think putting in a soundtrack will make the film better, go for it. Do whatever you want—just be sure there aren’t any lyrics that are objectionable. We don’t want to get the center in trouble.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to vet it first?” Karen looked stunned.

Lily smiled and shook her head. “Nope. You have my complete trust.” It was true. She’d gotten to know Karen pretty well since coming to Coral Beach and Lily’s appreciation for her idiosyncratic and slightly offbeat roommate had grown immensely.

She stood and stretched, her muscles tight from sitting too long. Then she blinked in amazement. Her watch read two o’clock. She and Karen had been at the computer for nearly half the night. “Karen, do you realize what time it is?”

“Must be late. But if I don’t do this now, I’ll have tunes playing inside my head all night. I think I heard John come in a few minutes ago. I’ll go knock on his door and see if he wants to help.”

Lily ducked her head, smiling. Karen was not only quirky and fun, she was also truly kindhearted—and determined—as evidenced by the fact that she was still on her “be nice to John” kick. Lily wasn’t sure if Karen’s campaign of benevolence was having any effect on him, but that was none of her business.

“I’d stay and keep you company, but I have to get up extra early and e-mail a status report to Simone before we dive tomorrow. And if I have time, I’d like to sneak in a swim.”

“You’ll definitely need to go early for the swim. The weather’s supposed to turn to crapola soon.”

“So I heard,” Lily replied, remembering her grandmother’s weather prediction.

“Go get some sleep. You have to be on your toes for an auditorium full of teens—and I bet there’ll be a few other people in attendance, too.”

“And you know this how?” Lily asked.

Karen smiled. “Well, when Dave and I drove to the site this afternoon, he asked me all about it. He’s real excited about your talk.”

“Then I’m even more grateful I’m going to have such stunning visual effects. But I think Dave will probably be far more impressed by your pictures than by my speech.”
That wouldn’t be hard,
Lily added silently, trying not to think about how much she hated public speaking. She knew that some people, like George Hunt, became positively energized when they addressed an audience. It brought out the showman in them. Lily would consider herself lucky if she managed to remember her own name.

“Dave might like my pictures,” Karen conceded. “But I figure if Dave’s coming to the school tomorrow, chances are someone else will be, too. And I bet that certain person will be far more interested in
you
,” she predicted confidently.

Lily felt her heart skip a beat.

Karen stood and brushed her braids back behind her shoulders. “I’m going to see if John feels like helping—he has fairly decent taste in music. Sleep tight, Lily.”

“Good night, Karen,” Lily replied distractedly, hardly noticing when Karen stepped out of the apartment to rap on John’s door.

Her mind was awhirl.

She truly hadn’t considered the possibility of Sean coming to her talk.

No, he wouldn’t come, she reassured herself. Sean probably never wanted to lay eyes on her again, especially after their last conversation, when she’d made it clear she didn’t believe he’d give up the development project to protect the reef. Which was for the best, she reminded herself hastily. She couldn’t afford to get any more deeply enmeshed in the tangled threads of Coral Beach’s politics. She’d do exactly as she had told Sean: conduct the reef study, present her findings to the committee, and then leave.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Sean checked his watch, grimaced, and lengthened his stride down the hallway. He’d make it to the high school—but only if he skirted around town instead of cutting through. It was 12:40 P.M. and the downtown streets would be clogged with motorists battling for lunch hour parking.

He was halfway down the granite steps when he spotted Dave and Evelyn standing beside his car in the lot reserved for official use. He raised an eyebrow at the twin smiles of angelic innocence on their faces. “What are you two doing, camped out here?”

“That should be obvious,” his secretary replied. “You tipped your hand when you canceled your lunch with Ferrucci and the oh-so-friendly developers. So Dave and I decided we might as well share the ride. No point in taking separate cars when we can carpool.”

He made a show of looking at his watch. “You want a lift to the deli for sandwiches? Fine, hop on in.”

Evelyn made a clucking noise with her tongue. Her pink curls shook lightly. “Sean, we’re your friends. If we’re willing to admit to unholy curiosity, then you should, too.”

Dave merely nodded in agreement, wisely holding his tongue. A good thing, too. These days, Sean’s temper had a real short fuse, wired to explode. He didn’t want to throttle his best friend in the town hall parking lot.

Sean had thought it would be easier not to see Lily, but he’d been wrong. Just knowing she was near had him craving even a glimpse of her. It was a gnawing hunger that nothing could appease . . . except her.

He didn’t have the time to stall or bluff with these two. Shooting them an aggrieved look, he went around to the passenger side and unlocked the door for Evelyn.

His secretary took her own sweet time settling herself in the seat, adjusting her jacket just so, then resting her patent leather purse upon her lap. Finally satisfied, she smiled up at him. “Thank you, Sean.”

Biting back a less than chivalrous growl, Sean shut the passenger door and ran around to the other side of the car. He slid behind the wheel and started the engine, thrusting the gearshift into reverse. Although the sky was heavy with ominous clouds and the air damp with the promise of rain, Sean, like a true Floridian, automatically reached forward to press the button on his car’s dash that would lower the convertible’s faded canvas top.

“Oh! Just a minute, Sean,” Evelyn demanded. From the depths of her purse, she fished a silk scarf with porcine-looking flamingos parading across it. Deftly, she wrapped it over her curls, whose color nearly matched the flamingos’. “I did my hair last night. I’d hate to get it mussed.” She patted her head to verify it was adequately protected. “You can go now.”

Sean caught Dave’s reflection in the rearview mirror. Cullen was grinning from ear to ear.

“Please remind me precisely why it is I put up with the two of you?” Sean asked before shifting into first gear and roaring out of the town hall parking lot.

The podium had been pushed front and center on the high school’s stage so that it was positioned directly beneath the large medallion, which depicted Coral Beach High’s insignia. Of carved and painted wood, the medallion represented a dolphin leaping over a wave-crested sea. A star-studded sky provided the backdrop for the dolphin’s arched body. Embossed gold letters encircled the scene with the school’s motto:
From the Sea We
Learn.

The auditorium was already filled with students, parents, and faculty and the buzz and squeak of restless murmurs and shifting bodies when Sean, Evelyn, and Dave entered. Finding three vacant seats near the back row, they sat down. Sean propped his elbows casually against the armrests of his seat, a genial expression stamped upon his face. His relaxed air was a sham. Inside, anticipation roiled, building steadily.

He wondered if Lily had the slightest inkling of the power she held. Sean wasn’t thinking of how her reef study might influence the town’s decision to vote on the multimillion-dollar development. No, it was the power she wielded over him, one which kept him enthralled, day and night.

And now, as well. From the sudden prickle of awareness, Sean knew she had arrived. As always, her presence made him feel as though a current were racing through him. Drawn by a magnetic attraction, his eyes fixed on Lily, his true north.

She’d come in by one of the side doors nearest the stage. Hugh Feldron, the school’s principal, was with her. Sean watched as she shed her dampened raincoat, shook it lightly, and then laid it over a front row seat.

Lily’s head was turned toward Feldron, who, as usual, seemed to be talking away. Sean’s hungry gaze fastened on her, noting everything—how the auditorium’s track lights illuminated the raindrops that clung to her careless locks, crowning her head with the spark of diamonds. How her skin glowed like the palest ivory. A fantasy, fully formed, sprang to mind, of him feasting upon that rain-scented skin, of Lily’s helpless moans as he pleasured her.

His erotic daydream came to a screeching halt when Evelyn leaned close and whispered, “There’s a full house today. Your Dr. Banyon’s quite a draw, Sean.”

Your Dr. Banyon.
Sean sat back against the velveteencovered seat, stunned. There it was, voiced aloud, the crux of the problem that tormented him. He wanted Lily. Wanted her to be
his
.

That was another fantasy he’d indulged in, a thousand times over, free to do so because a fantasy was safe. Acknowledging his desire openly, showing Lily how much he wanted her, how much he cared, was anything but.

In the political arena, Sean suffered no lack of confidence, of courage. But he was damnably afraid when it came to Lily Banyon. Like his desire for her, he could admit this awful vulnerability, but only privately. For all of Sean’s instincts screamed,
No!
at the thought of revealing them to her.

Because the thing Sean feared most of all was that Lily would toss his confession on the ground, then trample it with her high heels as she walked away from him.

When the assembled teens saw their principal mount the side steps and walk across the stage to the podium, the noise level altered, dropping to wary murmurs, silence descending by degrees. From Sean’s previous experience talking to these same teenagers, he knew the momentary quiet was a short-lived prelude to a mass, vacuous state—far more unnerving to a speaker than the odd whisper or squeak of chair springs. He felt a sudden, uncomfortable pang of guilt that he’d cornered Lily into this.

Hugh Feldron fumbled with the microphone and cleared his throat. “Good afternoon, students, parents, faculty, and guests,” he began. “Welcome to the inaugural lecture for this year’s Career Day talk. I am especially pleased to introduce today’s speaker, Dr. Lily Banyon, marine biologist. An alumna of this very school, Dr. Banyon is a senior researcher at the Marine Center in Gloucester, Massachusetts, and is currently involved in a project of immense importance to us in Coral Beach. She has been asked to supervise the final phase of our town’s reef study. Please join me in welcoming Dr. Banyon back home.”

Lily’s leggy stride carried her across the stage to where the principal stood, and Sean’s libido instantly kicked into overdrive. It was a reaction he instinctively knew was shared by every other male present, aged fifteen to sixty-five, as the welcoming applause turned from polite to enthusiastic. Dressed in a white tailored shirt, a short gray skirt, and black high heels, Lily shattered every stereotype of what a scientist was supposed to look like.

A broad smile on his face, Feldron stepped to the side of the podium as she approached. Lily shook his outstretched hand and murmured something that made him laugh out loud. With a nod, he quickly strode off the stage.

Lily took her place behind the podium. “Thank you,” she said when the applause died down. “I don’t usually receive such a warm reception at the conferences I attend,” she confessed with a wry smile. “I also never imagined I’d have the honor of speaking at Coral Beach High’s Career Day talk. Back in the Dark Ages, when I was a student here, the school didn’t have such wonderful programs, so you’ll have to forgive me if I deviate from the standard format of these talks.

“As Mr. Feldron already mentioned, I’m a marine biologist. It’s a job that has given me the chance to travel around the world. It’s also given me the chance to see incredible things and meet wonderful people. My area of specialty is studying coral reef ecosystems. Now at this point in your life, some of you may think
studying
is a four-letter word.” Lily paused, a smile playing across her face as muffled laughter echoed throughout the auditorium. “But studying, learning more about coral reefs and the life they support, is not only fascinating, it’s crucial.”

She looked out over the audience in frank appraisal. “Let me ask you a question. Who can tell me what the largest structure ever built on Earth is?”

The auditorium became totally silent. The audience was doing its best to be invisible. Sean felt a clammy sense of panic on Lily’s behalf, worried she might have lost her listeners by turning the focus on them.

“Come on, don’t be shy,” Lily cajoled with a grin. “Here, I’ll give you a hint. This structure is so big it’s identifiable from outer space. It covers a larger area than the Great Wall of China but it’s a whole lot more inviting, prettier, too. . . . Surely one of your teachers has mentioned it.”

A hand was raised timidly near the front.

“Yes?” Lily asked brightly.

“Is it the great barrier reef in Australia?” A girl answered in a halting voice.

“That’s absolutely right. Excellent, you get an A-plus.” She gave the girl a quick wink.

Beside him, Evelyn chuckled. And Sean expelled a breath of relief, his face relaxing into a smile. Lily was going to be fine. More than fine.

“Coral reefs—like Australia’s great barrier reef, like our own here in Coral Beach—have existed for millions of years,” Lily told the audience. “They are a vital habitat for nearly a quarter of all marine life. When coral reefs succumb to disease or are destroyed, the loss affects not only marine life, but human life, too . . . in ways we scientists are only just beginning to understand.

“Let me ask another question. How many of you have gone scuba diving or snorkeling and explored a reef habitat?”

About a third of the audience raised their hand. Lily shook her head, the straight line of her mouth reflecting her disappointment. “That’s not nearly enough. I can see we’ll have to do something to rectify that,” she said enigmatically as her gaze swept back, to the very rear of the auditorium.

And Sean realized that not only was Lily alert to his presence, she also knew precisely where he was sitting.

Perhaps he wasn’t the only one suffering the effects of heightened awareness. The thought made his smile widen. The auditorium’s overhead lights must have been angled just right, because Lily’s eyes went suddenly wide and a flustered expression stole over her.

Quickly averting her gaze from his, she reached for the glass of water placed next to the podium. He watched her take a long sip. Setting the glass back down, she continued. “As I was saying, I’d like for many more of you to know firsthand the wonders that are right in your own backyard, so to speak. With the remaining minutes I have left, let me give you a preview of what lies on the other side of the beach. Remember, though, this is only a glimpse of what makes my job fascinating, exciting, and, above all, incredibly rewarding.

“Marine biologists often work in a team, each person bringing a different specialty or talent to it. The photographer on my current team, Karen Masur, captured the sights you’re about to see. Karen and my research assistant, John Granger, worked together on this film for you. The three of us hope you’ll enjoy it.”

Lily raised her head slightly, focusing her attention to the very rear of the auditorium. “John, if you’d please dim the lights? Karen, when you’re ready?”

Sean glanced to his left. John and Karen were behind the booth that housed the controls for the lighting and electronic system. At Lily’s cue, the lights dimmed to soft blackness. Simultaneously, a large screen descended behind Lily, stopping just above her head. The screen went from white to a kaleidoscope of colors flooding the screen.

And the audience descended into Lily’s world.

As she began to describe the creatures before them, Sean knew from the profound quiet that the students were awed by the magical realm Lily was showing them. She was the perfect guide. As the film played, she was careful to allow them time to absorb the beauty of the image on their own before quietly telling them about the creature or plant they were seeing.

Now they were looking at a speckled maroon sea anemone. In impossibly slow revolutions, the anemone was somersaulting across what Lily identified as the rounded hump of a starlet coral. She explained how the surreal, rolling tumble of the anemone was its only mode of locomotion.

From the agonizingly slow, they went to the lightning quick. A few in the audience gasped in surprise when a moray eel darted from its hiding place, grabbing its unsuspecting prey in its teeth-lined, oversized maw.

On it went, a spectacular display. What they heard equally so. As the film progressed, Lily’s commentary was punctuated by the pulsing beat of music. Its inclusion was a brilliant stroke to a masterful performance. The music provided a bridge between the kids’ everyday world and the new, fantastic one that Lily was introducing.

The climax came with Jim Morrison singing about lighting the night on fire while the screen exploded with coral spawning, sexual fireworks in the night blackened sea. The audience exploded right along with the film, applauding loudly. Sean did the same, filled with pride for Lily.

Whatever conflicting emotions lay between them, Sean couldn’t—wouldn’t—hide his admiration. Lily had done a hell of a job. She’d gone beyond the Career Day talk’s framework to give the audience a glimpse of why they all needed to care about what happened to the marine environment.

Sean had a sudden sense of déjà vu; the first time it had happened was aboard the
Tangiers
. He was seeing once again what a special, what a giving, what an utterly compelling woman Lily had become. This time the sensation was a thousand times more powerful, for he was on dry land, away from the exotic magic of the sun-dappled sea. Hope flared bright inside him. He wasn’t chasing an illusion after all.