Christ, I’m lucky.
Placing my empty beer bottle in the picnic basket, I stood. Snagging her wrist, I yanked her forward to kiss. “It’s dawn.”
“So?”
“Aren’t you tired?” I placed my hand on her stomach. “Do you need to rest?”
Her eyes twinkled. “What I need is you.”
I sucked in a breath as she carefully removed my glasses and tossed them onto the blanket below. Her fingers skimmed under my t-shirt, removing it in one swipe, leaving me half-naked in board-shorts.
The pinky horizon warned we didn’t have long before Coco awoke and another day began.
But Estelle wanted me.
I wanted her.
I’d never say no to that.
Moving together, we waded into the tropical ocean.
As always a small pang hit me as I relived saying goodbye to Conner in this bay. His legacy meant we never (no exceptions) went swimming without water shoes. I refused to lose any more loved ones from a venomous fish we couldn’t see.
Estelle moaned as she ducked under, drenching her long hair and hovering in the tide’s embrace.
I copied, rinsing myself in saltwater and bobbing beside her to stare at the red and gold clouds.
The turtles had finished laying and most had returned to sea. However, a few stragglers slowly flippered past, eddying the current as their soulful black eyes judged us.
Estelle swam sedately beside a mammoth-sized turtle, hovering in pleasure as the creature slowly sank beneath the waves and disappeared.
We’d given up so much coming back here.
But we’d earned untold wealth in return.
“Come here.” Looping my arm around Estelle’s waist, I sluiced her into my embrace.
She giggled but accepted my kiss.
My hands roamed. Our bodies reacted. The urge to connect magnified.
But a noise appeared on the horizon, reverberating around our home.
“What on earth?” Estelle looked up, peering into the ever-lightening distance.
“It’s a boat.”
“I thought you’d given the builders the week off?”
“I did.” I stood in the chest-deep water, holding a hand over my eyes to shield from the piercing sun. “It’s not them. I don’t know the motor.”
“Who is it then?”
“I guess we’re about to find out.” Taking Estelle’s hand, I guided her from the ocean and jogged dripping wet to the jetty.
We padded to the end just as the small craft pulled up and cut the engine.
My heart quit beating.
“Oh, my God—” Estelle gasped. “You came. You truly came.”
“Hi, Stelly.” Pippa waved shyly. “Hi, G.”
Launching myself into the small boat, I grabbed her in a bear hug. “Wow, you’re here.” Her slight frame had filled out, skinniness replaced with budding curves, and her cheeks were no longer gaunt but rosy red with health.
She’s here.
After so long.
I couldn’t release her. I’d worried I’d never have the luxury of touching her again. Of calling her my own. “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?”
She hugged me back, sighing heavily. “Honestly? I didn’t know if I would. It was nana’s idea.”
“Hello again.” Joanna Evermore cleared her throat as I released Pippa.
“I—I don’t know what to say.” I wished I wasn’t half-naked and dripping wet. The first impression wasn’t the best. Did this mean Pippa would live with us again? Did she finally want to be a family?
Questions ran rampant as the skipper offloaded two small suitcases onto the dock.
I frowned. The bags were too tiny for an extended stay.
Estelle said quietly, “This isn’t a home coming, is it?”
Pippa stiffened. “I’m—it’s just...”
“We’ve come for a week.” Joanna cut in. “School holidays are in effect and I asked if Pippa wanted to go somewhere. It was me who suggested coming to see you.”
I wanted to hate the woman for taking away my adopted child, but I only felt grateful. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”
“I can’t come back full time, G.” Pippa glanced at the island, decorated with brand new sunshine and freedom. “But I did want to talk to my brother and do my best to get over what happened here.”
Joanna moved closer to Estelle. “Her therapist said it would help.”
Therapist?
The poor kid had it worse than I feared.
But she was here now.
That was step one toward recovery.
Shoving away my concerns, I transformed into honourable host. Grabbing their suitcases, I bowed. “Well, our home is your home. You’re welcome anytime, you know that.”
Pippa smiled, her eyes drifting to Estelle’s belly. “I see you forgot to mention baby number two in your latest phone call.”
Estelle held Pippa’s hand as she clambered from the boat. They embraced. “We didn’t know how much to share. What would hurt. What wouldn’t.” She kissed the girl’s cheek. “But now that you’re here we have so much to catch up on.”
“I can see that.” Pippa turned to face our house. The glass glittered with secrets and history even though it was so new.
It knew what we’d survived here. It knew how much this land meant to us.
We’d lost, we’d won; we’d scarified, and celebrated.