“Right? And the call from Nicole, coming now—it has to mean something, doesn’t it?”
“I think so. But I have a romantic nature.” I moved slightly to fit her more neatly into the crook of my arm.
We were quiet for a while, just breathing together.
“Your turn,” she said. “Ask me something.”
“Do you want more children?”
She didn’t answer for a moment. I could almost hear her mind working through the question. “I’ve not thought about it much since my divorce. I’d wanted another child before he cheated, but we’d had no luck. He said it was because I was too stressed all the time. He had a knack for making things my fault that weren’t. But after he left, I just locked the idea of more children into a box I never intended to open again. I put everything into Mia and building my business. Nurturing my friendships. Helping to raise the other kids in our village. I didn’t know you were out there.”
I chuckled, kissing the top of her head and breathing in the flowery scent of her hair. “You didn’t answer the question.”
“I would be open to it, if it was something you really wanted. Is it?” Lila asked.
“I’m not sure. I have to see how Margot adjusts before I think about it too seriously. But making a baby with you—one we shared—seems like a way to solidify our family.”
“Like Gillian and Alex,” Lila said. “But starting the whole baby thing over again? The midnight feedings? It would be an adjustment after all this time. But maybe a sweet one. I don’t know.”
“When Margot was a baby, she had this habit of grabbing my finger while she slept. Her whole tiny hand wrapped around one finger. And I’d sit there for hours, just watching her breathe, feeling her hold onto me.” My voice roughened. “All these years that Nicole kept her from me, I’ve thought about that and prayedthat some part of Margot would remember those moments. Remember her Papa. Somehow find her way back to me when she was old enough to make her own decisions.”
“She’s back now. Here with us.” She shifted slightly, her leg sliding between mine, getting more comfortable.
“What’s your earliest memory?” I asked. “The very first thing you remember?”
“Hmm.” She thought for a moment. “I was maybe three? Four? And I was at my grandmother’s house. She had this garden—all these flowers and herbs and vegetables. She let me help her pick tomatoes. I remember the smell of the tomato plants, how it stuck to my hands, and the way the sun felt on my back. My grandmother telling me stories about her childhood.” Her voice went soft. “She died when I was seven. But I can still smell those tomato plants. Still hear her voice.”
“That’s a beautiful memory,” I said.
“What about you?”
“The beach. I think I was three. My mom took me down at sunset, just the two of us. My dad still lived with us then. I don’t remember specifically, but he’d probably been awful to her that day, and she needed to escape for a few minutes. We found this piece of sea glass—bright blue, perfectly smooth. She told me it was a treasure from a mermaid. That mermaids left treasures for people who needed a little magic.” I smiled. “I kept that piece of glass and take it out when things seem hopeless, praying for a little mermaid magic.”
“It must have worked, because we’re here, together, with our sweet girls,” Lila said.
We lapsed into comfortable silence again. Her breathing had slowed, deepened. She was drifting.
She was quiet so long I thought she’d fallen asleep until she said, “I’ve wasted too much time being afraid. And angry.”
“Me too.”
“Let’s not be afraid any longer,” Lila said. “Let’s let all our anger go and just be grateful.”
“I’m in.”
She lifted her head, finding my eyes in the darkness. “I’m glad it’s you who came to me, even when I didn’t believe you existed.” She kissed me then—soft, slow, sweet. When she settled back against me, her breathing changed—slower, heavier. “’Night, Vance.”
“Goodnight, ma chérie.”
“Oh, that sounds so lovely,” Lila said.
Within minutes, she was asleep, her body soft and warm against mine.
I lay awake a while longer, listening to her breathe, feeling the weight of her arm across my stomach, the way her fingers curled into my shirt like she was holding on even in sleep. There’s no need, I said silently. I’m not going anywhere.
11
LILA
