What Tessa wanted was…
She picked up her phone and tapped the photos, scrolling through the eight billion she’d taken of Olive.
She wanted her little Olive Oyl. Not…bureaucracy. Yes, she understood the need for it and respected the process and the people who put it in place to protect children.
But this was too much.
“Hey.” Dusty came back in, tucking his phone in his pocket, his expression serious. “I’m sorry, Tess, I have to go.”
“Oh, who is it? Everything okay?”
He just shook his head, which she now knew was code for “don’t ask, ’cause I can’t tell” and she held up a hand.
“It’s fine. I’m going to make the briefest of appearances at Vivien’s shindig and come home.” She pushed up from her chair.“I wanted to surprise her with that boom box I found in a thrift shop.”
“With the ’90s cassette?” His brows lifted. “I really don’t want to miss that playing when we all jump off the bridge. Look, I already have a bathing suit on. I’m ready to let go.”
“Of?”
“A future without a perfect woman by my side.” He kissed her lightly. “’Cause you are not going anywhere, Tessa Wylie.”
She smiled at that. How could she not?
“Well, I know what I’m letting go of.” She waved a hand at the computer.
“Being a foster parent?” he guessed, wrapping her in a hug. “Don’t worry, honey. We can navigate this mess together. We’ll figure out our family, no matter how it looks.”
She gave a whimper and dropped her head on his shoulder, loving the sheer strength of it. “What I’m letting go of is Olive. She’s gone forever and I have to let go of my not-so-secret hope that she’ll come back.”
He kissed her on the head and stepped back, searching her face. In his expression, she saw the deepest and most profound understanding.
No surprise—he was a grief counselor and she was grieving.
“I’ll be there tonight, I promise. I’ll try to get to Vivien’s before you all leave to jump. If not, I’ll meet you at the bridge.”
She kissed him again and stood very still, listening to the sound of him getting keys and his wallet and heading out to his truck.
When the door closed, she dropped back into the seat and stared at the screen, reading the words.
PRIDE training is Parent Resources for Information, Development and Education. Eight to ten classes, three hours each.
“Three hours?” she whined.
Dusty was right. She was letting this go—tonight. With Vivien and her stupid idea that they all make one more jump before the bridge was taken down.
“God help me,” she murmured as she walked out carrying the boom box. “Because I’m gonna need it.”
The Summer Housewas alive with a warm chaos that almost made Tessa forget her blues. She forced herself to greet friends and family, acknowledging that she was only just emerging from a cocoon she’d spun to protect herself since Olive left.
She started with her mother, who’d returned from an extended stay with Maggie. Neither one looked like they’d had much “work” done, but something had brightened their faces. Looking at Jo Ellen, Tessa suspected that her mother and her bestie maybe had a few treatments and abandoned the idea of anything that caused pain and just drove around and had fun.
There was an aura of joy around the two older women that everyone seemed to chalk up to their lifelong friendship, but Tessa sensed it might be more than that.
“So where did you stay the whole time?” Tessa asked her mother.
Jo Ellen lifted a shoulder. “Here and there. You know Mags. She loves a good, unplanned adventure.”
Tessa slid a side-eye to Maggie, who was standing with Crista and Anthony, cooing over pictures of the second home here in Destin they’d purchased.
