I pressed my hands flat on the island counter and just stood there, trying to breathe.
“Esme?” Lila said. “What do you think?”
I’d spent years in a kitchen so small that, if I opened the oven door all the way, it hit the opposite cabinet. I’d told myself it was fine. I didn’t need more. However, standing in this kitchen, with the ocean framed in those French doors like a painting, I couldn’t believe this could really be ours. My house with Grady. A house for our family.
“I feel like I should pinch myself,” I said. “I love it.”
“What about you, Grady?” Lila asked.
“I love it too,” Grady said. “But I want Esme to have whatever she wants.”
Life had beat me down for so long, I’d stopped dreaming. I’d been surviving. Spending days in a fog, on autopilot, stealing moments of joy with my friends and Grady and the kids. But under my survival skills had been constant fear and anxiety and a deep shame about how my life had transpired.
“Can we really have this one?” I asked Grady, feeling like a kid.
“We can. And we will.” Grady wrapped his arm around my shoulders, kissing the top of my head. “We’ll be a family here. A fresh start.”
“The beginning of forever?” I asked, resting my cheek against his shoulder.
Madison and Trevor came running in from their exploration of the patio and yard, bringing the scent of sea air with them. “Trevor saw a bunny and started chasing it, but it got away. And there’s a giant apple tree. I know it’s apple because I saw a few still on the branches. They looked yucky, though, so don’t eat them.”
I went closer to the window to see the tree for myself. As Madison said, a few late apples still clung to the branches, stubborn and wind-battered, refusing to fall. Like me. Too obstinate to let go, even when the world wanted me to. But I didn’t have to hold on so tightly any longer to anything but Grady.
Madison smoothed her hand along the granite island. “This is fancy, like at Gillian’s house.”
Trevor made a circle around the island, wagging his tail, then went to sit by the window, staring out to the sea. He let out one short bark, as if calling out to any sea creature who might be listening.
Robbie came into the kitchen, jotting down notes on his spreadsheet. When he looked up, his eyes widened, clearly taking in the gorgeous kitchen. “Mother, this is worthy of your grilled cheese sandwiches.”
I smiled, nodding. “It sure is.”
Grady came to stand beside me at the island. “I could cook a lot of muffins in this kitchen.” He hauled Madison onto his hip to give her a better look. “What do you think, Sweet Pea?”
“It’s really pretty,” Madison said. “Too bad there’s not a chandelier in here.”
“There’s plenty of room for both of us in this kitchen,” I said.
“We should make cookies too,” Madison said.
“And pies,” Grady said.
“Let’s see the rest of the house,” Lila said, smiling.
We went upstairs. The primary bedroom was at the end of the hall and big enough for a king bed, a reading chair, a dresser, with an en suite bathroom that had a claw-foot tub and a window that framed the same ocean view. I stood in the doorway, fighting tears as I imagined waking up here to the morning light and salt air. Best of all, with Grady by my side. How could this be my life?
The second bedroom was smaller, painted pale yellow, with a window seat overlooking the garden. Madison walked in, looked around once, and flopped onto the window seat, covering her face with her still-healing, casted arm like a damsel in distress. Trevor sat on his haunches next to her, looking slightly worried. She popped up, stroking his ears. “This could be my fainting seat. For when we play princess.”
Trevor barked.
Madison looked at Grady and me. “Can this one be mine? Trevor can take naps right here.” She patted the cushion beside her. “And I can see the apple tree from my window.”
The third bedroom was at the back of the house, the largest of the secondary rooms, with two windows that let in the morning sun and enough wall space for a desk, a bookshelf, and what I felt sure Robbie was already mentally mapping as a command center.
He stood in the middle of the room and turned slowly in a full circle. Then he pulled the tape measure from his pocket and measured the longest wall.
“Acceptable?” I asked.
“The dimensions are suitable for my desired setup with room for approximately thirty-seven percent expansion.” He put the tape measure away. “Additionally, the natural light from the east-facing window is optimal for sustained focus during morning study sessions.”
