And when she delivered, it was in a sterile room with medical professionals and every modern apparatus required if anything went wrong.
It made me feel ten times better knowing that others with expertise were helping rather than just me and a night-shrouded sea like last time.
Another benefit of spending two weeks on the mainland meant I finally took the plunge to have Lasik eye surgery to permanently remove the need for glasses.
When we’d first moved, I’d ordered ten pairs, just in case. I never wanted to go so long without seeing well again.
However, swimming crusted the lenses, sweat fogged them while I worked, and humidity wasn’t kind to the hinges.
Estelle had been the one to suggest the procedure.
And I was so bloody thankful I’d listened.
“You really are a disaster, aren’t you, Fin?”
“No.” Finnek pouted as I put him on the kitchen counter.
Rummaging in the drawer full of creams and Band-Aids, Coco padded to the fridge and yanked on the heavy sealed door.
I glanced at her as I tended to the scrape on Finnek’s knee.
I didn’t say a word as she grabbed the sippy cup full of coconut water and passed it to her brother. “Here you go. This will make you feel better.”
Goddammit, she knew how to overwhelm my heart with her childish kindness.
I love her.
Them.
Everyone.
My dad caught my eye.
We smiled, understanding without speaking how precious this bond between siblings would become.
Kissing my son’s forehead, I passed him back to my father. “Everything going all right out there?”
Along with my dad, we’d invited the foreman who helped me build and his wife and two children. We’d also invited anyone who wanted to come from the islands closest to us, extending the hospitality to those stragglers who had no one to spend Christmas with.
It went without saying that Madeline was here. Just like every Christmas, birthday, anniversary, and any other random occasion she could find. She might as well move in with how often she visited (claiming the benefits of tax deductions to see her boss about ‘work matters’).
Not that I cared.
I’d grown to love the crazy woman.
Not to mention, she ran our life back in the city with military precision, keeping on top of Estelle’s contracts and obligations, ferrying paperwork and interview requests from her recording company, going out of her way to ensure the symbiotic relationship flourished.
Estelle continued writing and singing and her finished recordings were sent to Madi to deliver to the music contractors or uploaded directly to iTunes for her online listeners.
Money would never be an issue for us.
Time wasn’t stolen in dead-end jobs or hated commutes.
And we were able to be generous with our monetary and material wealth.
We paid for Pippa’s education. Looked after her grandmother’s occasional health bills, and put aside a few blue stock bonds for Coco and Finnek when they hit eighteen. Not to mention, the investment we made into the Fijian infrastructure.
We’d adopted this place just as it had adopted us.
“Yes, all enjoying the sun and beer.” My dad chuckled, clasping Coco’s hand to lead my children back to the beach. “We’ll see you down there. Don’t be too long.”
“I won’t. The food’s almost done.”
All morning, I’d slaved in the kitchen (after shooing Estelle out) to finish the Christmas seafood feast. We had so much food; I doubted we’d eat it all. But the abundance of such banquets never grew old.
Not after those first few days of starvation.
After that, everything tasted better, richer.
Finnek waved, his tears transforming to laughter as his grandfather muttered something in his ear.
“See you soon!” Coco charged outside, bolting down the ramp off the veranda to the large table where our guests waited for the main course.
Everyone but Estelle.
My lips twitched as the haunting melody of the baby grand I’d had shipped over lilted over our island.
The lobsters could wait.
My need to hold her couldn’t.
Padding barefoot across the large open-plan living, my heart squeezed as my eyes fell on Estelle.
Her fingers glided over ivory and black keys, while the sounds of conversation whispered from the beach below, mingling with the clinking of cocktails, and fluttering of white gauze curtains.
Heaven.
Instead of singing a Christmas carol, Estelle sang one of her originals. One I absolutely adored and had been listened to over fifteen million times on YouTube.
I snuck up behind her and wrapped her in an embrace.
Her fingers never stopped dancing, but her head bent as she kissed my tanned forearm. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“You think they’re ready?”
“According to Coco, they’re all dying of lobster deprivation.”
“Ah, poor things. What a horrible affliction to have.”
My hand drifted downward, cupping her breast.