A WEEK PASSED in a whirl of sunny, hot days, and the turtles were busy laying eggs on the beaches. Linnea slapped the sand from her hands and surveyed the nest. Three wooden stakes held the orange tape that surrounded the nest, protecting it from foot traffic. The mother turtle had laid the nest smack in front of a beach access path, so Linnea had moved the eggs to a safer location high on the dunes. Ninety-two eggs was a decent number. Only time would tell how many hatchlings would emerge in fifty or so days.

Like everything else, the turtle team schedule and duties had changed because of the pandemic. The Department of Natural Resources permitted only two team members to work at a nest, to maintain social distancing. Linnea missed the camaraderie she usually felt with her teammates each morning, the gatherings for coffee at Emmi’s or Cara’s house. Yet she understood the reasoning. Barb was her teammate this morning, and she’d taken pictures that the team could post for all those who followed the nesting season on the Internet.

It was nearly 8 a.m. and the sun was already bright in the sky. Midweek, the beach was empty save for a few walkers pumping arms. A few peeps played tag with the waves. Linnea turned onto her beach path and headed toward Primrose Cottage. She spotted Emmi and Flo in their garden and veered over to say hello.

“Good morning!” she called out.

Emmi swung her head at the sound, then waved her arm in an arc over her head. “How are things on the beach?” She motioned Linnea closer.

Linnea came up to the gate. Emmi drew close, with Flo right behind her.

“Sorry. We have to keep it locked now because…” Emmi jerked her head in Flo’s direction.

“I know. John told me.”

“Any nests?”

“We had two nests this morning,” Linnea told her. “I moved one to the dunes off Second Avenue. Maybe Flo will be able to go out and watch this one.”

“Not this year,” Emmi reminded her. “No gatherings. We won’t even be able to have inventories.”

“You’re right,” Linnea replied with a sigh. “It’s such a weird year with all the restrictions.”

“We always manage.”

Flo surprised them by speaking up. “If it’s not one thing, it’s another.”

Linnea was delighted to hear Flo participate. “That’s right, Flo.”

Emmi leaned closer. “She’s having one of her good days.”

Flo stood nearby wearing a broad-rimmed straw hat and garden gloves. Despite her response and faint smile, Flo’s eyes stared off vacantly.

“How are you doing, other than turtles?” Emmi asked.

“Good, thanks. Oh, I made masks from the fabric you gave me. I’ll bring you over a bunch.”

“Thank you, sweet girl. You are a wonder on a sewing machine. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe your mother sews.”

“Oddly, given her love of decorating, no. She loves fabrics and can search for hours, but sewing, not at all.”