I want this.
Through my blurry vision, Liam has become Isaac, and Olive has become our child. And for a moment, I feel a beautiful sense of contentment as he picks her up and swings her around. I imagine that they’ll come running back to me to show me what they found, then he’ll lie beside me, propped up on one elbow while we watch her go off again.
But that won’t happen.
I reach up and play with Isaac’s ring while a profound sense of loss sweeps over me. Why didn’t we do this? I remind myself it was because we never wanted children. Except that suddenly I’m not so sure. The decision was made so long ago, I can’t remember which one of us was more adamant about it. I know it was Isaac’s suggestion, but he was only voicing what I wanted, wasn’t he?
I wipe my eyes, and they are Liam and Olive again. Liam is walking toward me with a perplexed look on his face. He sits on the low beach chair next to mine. “You all right?”
I nod and swallow, trying for a happy smile. Then I hear myself say, “No.”
“What’s wrong?”
I put on a carefree air. “Oh, you know, women, never wanting something until we can’t have it.”
“Don’t do that.” His voice is quiet.
“Do what?”
“You have a habit of making a joke when what you really need to do is cry.” I feel his eyes on me, but I refuse to look at him.
He puts his hand on mine. “You don’t have to pretend around me. I can handle sad.”
Fresh tears spring out of my eyes. I let out a shaky breath before I find my voice again. “I just realized I may have missed out on something really beautiful.” I gesture with my head toward Olive and tears spill down my cheeks again.
He slips his fingers through mine and gives them a gentle squeeze without saying anything. He doesn’t tell me it’ll be okay or that I could always adopt. He doesn’t pretend having children isn’t so great anyway. He just sits and lets me cry, and it’s exactly what I need.
* * *
The sun is setting when we reach slip number seventeen. I don’t give more than a glance to the vibrant show the sky is putting on. Instead, I watch Olive, who is asleep with her head on my lap, tired out from the fresh air and exploring. She is more of a marvel to me than the sky could ever be, with her bright, fresh mind and her big ideas. We are on the bench seat near the steering wheel, the breeze still warming us as the day draws to an end. My fingertips trace her hairline, and I’m happy to have her here, even though she’s become heavy against my leg. Her palm has opened, and I stare at the single green mermaid tear she’s been holding onto for the duration of the trip home.
Liam glances over at his daughter, his eyes full of love. He’s taken his sunglasses off and no longer wears his hat. He docks the boat and jumps down onto the pier to tether it in place. I wait for him, not wanting to wake her. When he appears a few moments later, he opens the door to the cabin, then takes her from me, easily lifting her into his strong arms. She shifts into his chest while I whisper, “Good night, Olive.”
Once they’re inside, I collect my things, hating that it’s time to go home to my empty house, but not wanting to embarrass myself by overstaying my welcome.
Liam returns carrying two bottles of beer. “If you’re not sick of me yet, maybe you could stay for a drink.”
Relief washes over me, and I nod and smile, dropping my bags on the bench.
He sets up a table for two that has been neatly tucked away for our trip. I help unfold the chairs and soon we’re sitting together, listening to the gentle tide lap against the boat. I’m awakened by the cold, malty drink as it slides along my tongue and down my throat.
“What a lovely day,” I remark. “I hope I didn’t ruin it earlier.”
“Of course you didn’t. Not every minute has to be filled with laughter in order for it to add up to a good day.” He stares out at the last wisp of pink in the sky.
“Can I tell you something?”
“Of course you can.”
“When I first heard about your…loss, I thought I was the lucky one because I didn’t have a child to look after through all this grieving. But now, I’m not so sure.”
Liam nods. “When I first met you, I felt blessed that I wasn’t as alone as you.”
The realization makes us both smile sadly. “I guess you make the most of what you’ve got, right?”
“That you do, Abby. That you do.”
“How did you manage…when it all happened?”
