He lifted her chin up with the knuckle on one hand, and he whispered against her lips, “Yeah. Loving you.”
And she cried again.
* * *
The full moonrode across a cloudless and vast sky spangled with stars, more stars than anyone could ever imagine. Margaret and Hank silently walked along the beach hand in hand, their footprints melting in wet, spongy sand.
Another day had passed. Then another and another until the days blended into a week and more.
For Margaret, each day was somehow better than the last. Because of what was happening to her: emotions she’d never thought she could feel. She hadn’t imagined such a thing was possible.
They’d talked about their childhoods, so different, yet equally lonely in some ways. He didn’t tell all of what he had done in his lifetime. But some of it, the things they could laugh about rather than the ones that made her want to cry.
She stopped and looked up at the night sky because she was getting teary just walking with Hank. As naturally as if they had been together for years, his arms slid around her and pulled her back against him. He locked his hands around her belly and rested his chin on her head.
She had the crazy thought that he was the only man she could think of who was tall enough to do that. They fit somehow, the two of them. They had so little in common on the outside but so much in common inside.
And he just held her. She let her head fall back on his shoulder, and she could feel his breath whisper against her ear, a sound as keen and constant to her as the rumble of the waves.“I’ve never seen so many stars. Thousands of them. It’s as if we were walking through the Milky Way.”
“Hmmm” was all he said.
She smiled slowly. “You’re not listening to me.”
“I heard every word.”
“Then repeat them.”
His lips touched her ear. “You said that you had never seen so many stars.”
“That’s right.”
He kissed her ear.
“What else?”
“If you want to see stars...” He took a deep breath that made his chest press warmly against her back. Then he whispered a string of earthy, elemental, and private things they could do together if they only had about five straight days completely alone.
Her mouth was dry and her knees a little wobbly when he finished.
“I promise you that after that you’d see a helluva lot more than just stars. You’d see clear through to heaven, Smitty.”
She turned and kissed him with every ounce of love she had. Then she pulled back and ran her fingers over his mouth, that sensual mouth that could kiss her senseless and make love to her in ways she never would have imagined. “Are you bluffing?”
He laughed. “Hell, sweetheart, I just promised you heaven.”
She shook her head. “You’ve already taken me there.” She turned and slid her arms around his neck. “Take me there again. Past there. Show me the other side of Heaven.”
And he showed her Heaven, a hundred different ways for long nights and days, until the breezes changed to winds and time went from days to a week and more.
32
Margaret carried Annabelle inside the hut. She had toddled over into Margaret’s lap and fallen asleep after a busy afternoon of playing and helping the others bury Hank in the sand.
Margaret looked down at the baby sleeping in her arms. Her skin had the glow of a child who spent a good deal of time outdoors. Her hair was longer and more curly than it had been before. It had turned a lighter red from the sun. And she was heavier, talking more and running without falling.
They change so quickly, she thought.
Still holding the baby, she sat down on a barrel and looked outside at the beach. She couldn’t see the others, but she could see the water and the sunshine and the trees and bushes and flowers of this paradise that was now her home.
