Elizabeth shields her eyes from the intense late afternoon sun and waves. “He was more than welcome to stay and eat.”
“As much as he would’ve appreciated the offer, he has a good woman and an even better bottle of scotch waiting for him.”
The sweltering breeze does little to relieve the stifling air of summer, and beads of sweat begin to pop under my shirt. One thing I don’t miss when I’m away is the humidity.
“I’ll have to invite him and his wife over for dinner one night.”
“He’s not married.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Not exactly.”
Elizabeth tips her face, giving me those stunning green eyes. “Then what would you call her?”
A married woman, but I’m not going to tell her that. In Xander’s defense, the woman in question is his ex-wife. They hook up whenever he’s in town. None of my business.
The front door bursts open.
“Mama!”
A blur of blonde hair bounds down the porch steps, and Elizabeth barely has time to brace before Charlotte slams into her. Clinging fiercely to one another, Elizabeth gently sways Charlotte side to side, her hand cradling the back of her daughter’s head, their cheeks pressed tightly together.
“Missed you so much, sweet girl.”
“Missed you more,” Charlotte replies, burying her face in her mother’s shoulder.
Seeing the two of them together slams into my chest with the subtlety of a two-ton boulder. The resemblance is uncanny—Charlotte is the living, breathing visage of a younger Elizabeth. It’s remarkable to see. Pictures only show so much, but my memory of the first time I saw Elizabeth at the Fields with Ry remains forever burned into my psyche.
Charlotte peeks over her mother’s shoulder, her moss-green gaze locking onto mine. A flicker of curiosity flashes in her expression, quickly followed by recognition.
“Uncle Fallon?” Her voice rises in disbelief, but there’s no hesitation when she steps away from Elizabeth and launches herself at me.
Taken completely off-guard, I barely register the moniker before she flings her arms around me, holding tight as if I’m someone she’s always known. My hands hover awkwardly for a moment before settling on her back. How does she even know who I am?
I glance at Elizabeth, slightly panicked because I’m at a loss on what to do or what to say. She folds her lips under to hide her amused smile, but her tear-glossed eyes betray how deeply this moment affects her.
Charlotte pulls back, her face beaming with the biggest smile. She snatches my arm before I can form a coherent response and tugs me toward the house, leaving me no choice but to follow.
“That’s all the welcome back love I get?” Elizabeth grabs the handles of her suitcases and follows us up the walkway. “Where are Marcus and Christopher?”
“Backyard,” Charlotte calls over her shoulder as we cross the threshold.
Cool air hits us as soon as we step into the foyer. A well-worn mud bench sits against one wall, a row of mismatched sandals and sneakers beneath it. I set Elizabeth’s messenger bag down on the bench and try to slip off my shoes, not wanting to track dirt in, but Charlotte has other plans.
“Mom doesn’t care. Come on. My brothers are going to flip that you’re here,” Charlotte enthuses.
I get my first, albeit brief, look at the interior of Elizabeth’s home as I’m swiftly ushered through it. It’s a blend of country charm and modern simplicity with an open-concept design andhigh ceilings. Wide-plank hardwood floors gleam in the sunlight filtering through the stained-glass window above the door, and the scent of magnolia blossoms floating in a glass bowl on the side table welcomes you as soon as you step inside.
We pass by the living room, and I crane my neck to get a glimpse. The walls are painted a muted slate-gray, and an oversized sectional sits in the middle, facing a stone fireplace that dominates one wall, its mantle adorned with framed photos. Adjacent to a large picture window are floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with books and a scattering of knickknacks, and my mouth curves in a pleased smile when I glimpse the upright piano tucked against the back wall.
“Daddy said that you’d find Mom in Italy,” Charlotte whispers excitedly, and I’m caught by surprise for a second time in as many minutes.
“What?”
I try to dig in my heels, but it’s no use. Her grip is unrelenting.
After checking behind her to make sure Elizabeth isn’t within earshot, she lowers her voice. “In the letter. Don’t tell Mom.”
