When the two women finished, they rose and embraced each other. Then, needing the touch of sympathy, they risked hugging each other, not knowing when they’d have this luxury again.

There were few words left to say. Linnea watched them depart in single file along the narrow beach path. These were the people who made up the heart of her world. Each one of them had in his or her own way pointed her in the direction of her own path. She knew she’d still be afraid of failure. That she was flawed and would make many more mistakes. But it was their individual examples of day-to-day bravery that encouraged her to keep trying, to not give up, to be authentic. To be like the turtle and follow her instincts.

Each of these people was on his or her own path too, she thought. Emmi was on her way to Pawleys Island. Anna and Cooper were leaving soon for the university. Palmer and Julia would begin a new house project somewhere. David and Cara bookended Hope, who would be their chief focus for several more years to come. Only John remained at her side. Linnea turned to look at him now.

He was wearing a black shirt and black jeans. She let her gaze wander over his strong nose, dark brows, and ruddy skin. He stood solid with his legs spread and his arms crossed, watching the exodus. He, as much as or more than anyone else, had rocked her world. He’d made her feel the exaltation of love and the heartbreak of abandonment. He’d also revealed sincere regret and humility and the desire to change. His declaration of commitment had, she knew, taken courage.

“Where are you headed off to?” she asked him.

He turned to face her, squinting in the light from the rising sun. “I haven’t figured that out yet.”

She mulled that over. “Me neither.”

He cracked a begrudging smile. “Gordon settled up and left.”

“I know.”

“I guess it’s over between you?”

“I guess.”

John rocked on his heels. “What have you decided?”

She looked up into his green eyes and shrugged with a freedom she hadn’t felt in a long time. “I’ve decided not to decide.”

He blew out his cheeks. “Okay.”

She laughed at his confusion. She understood it all too well. “It was Flo who made it clear to me.”

“Flo? Really?”

“Yep. She told me something very wise. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.”

“Lord help me,” John said, looking skyward. “She must’ve said that at least once every day.”

She laughed again. “But did you listen? I know I didn’t. All summer long I worried about if and when I’d get my job back. Then it was whether Anna was depressed or Cooper horny or my mother mad. Or if Daddy would get his house built. If David would get well. If Hope would ever go home again. Where Gordon would live and, of course, if you were going back to California. Every time I thought I had a plan figured out, something else would come up and blow the plan into ether. Now, I confess,” she said, scratching behind her ear, “it took me a while to understand what Flo was trying to tell me. But it finally sank in. I can’t make a plan or a decision right now. None of us can. We’re in the middle of a pandemic! We have to know when to zig and when to zag to avoid the calamity that’s heading toward us every day. The key word for us is pivot.”