Jonah, for all his confidence as a father, was recovering from his own shocking grief—the tragic death of his girlfriend, newborn Atlas’s mother.
But somehow, they both managed to laugh and prove that they weren’t just fine, they were thriving.
And that made them inspirational, amazing, and the perfect people to give Lacey advice on her complicated situation. God willing, by the end of this dinner she’d have clarity.
An attractive hostess greeted them with a smile, adding a surprised coo when she spotted Atlas’s little head. “Where would you like to take that darling baby? Inside or out?”
“Outside,” they answered in unison, getting a laugh.
Then the hostess put a finger to her lips, quieting them. “We’ll wake the baby.”
“Nothing wakes this guy,” Jonah said. “Unless it’s the A/C coming on at two a.m., then he’s up and ready to party.”
Chatting about babies, they followed her past the open bar and the hum of conversation, along the original “porch” that gave the famous eatery its name.
Outside, they stepped onto the wide deck over the sand, with an unobstructed view of the mirror-calm Gulf.
For a moment, Lacey wished she didn’t have such a hard subject on her heart. The evening was tailor-made for relaxing, and she so wanted to chill with two of her favorite people. Well, two and a half.
Lanterns glowed softly above wooden tables. The air was full of laughter and clinking glasses, of couples leaning close, of locals and tourists, all watching as gulls skimmed the surface of the water and flew toward the horizon.
They ordered drinks—Meredith a crisp white wine, Jonah a light beer, Lacey a cocktail with something citrusy and pink. They let Jonah pick appetizers as he shared stories of his adventures in culinary school.
Lacey watched him, marveling—not for the first time—at the man he had become.
The Jonah who’d arrived in a dusty van months ago had been hollow-eyed, guarded, moving through life like a ghost in borrowed skin. The Jonah who’d returned with Atlas after Carly’s death had been shattered, raw, barely holding himself together.
This Jonah? He was still grieving, still human, still imperfect—but he washere,present, engaged, and managing an infant. It was so far from where he’d been months ago and continents away from the mess he’d been after his mother died when he was fifteen.
When Atlas stirred, Jonah’s hand moved without thought, a gentle pat, a quiet sway. The baby settled again.
“It’s discipline,” he said, in answer to Lacey’s question about the mood at culinary school. “Not like we’re trapped or scared, but everything in the classroom and kitchens is so purposeful and structured. I’m learning every day and I don’t hate it. I do sometimes hate mybéchamelsauce, but some days, it’s my best friend.”
Meredith smiled. “That instructor I met the day when I stopped by with Atlas? He thinks you are a superstar.”
“Chef Broussard.” Jonah looked skyward. “Don’t be fooled by his niceness. He’s ruthless in the kitchen.”
When the server returned with hush puppies and peel-and-eat shrimp, Lacey realized she’d been smiling for ten straight minutes.
The conversation shifted to Meredith, who never liked talking about herself. But she was halfway through what Lacey knew would be her one and only glass of wine, mellowed enough to brush back a stray hair and be honest when Lacey asked her how she was really doing.
“I’m okay,” she said softly. “I’ve enjoyed the break and taking care of this little guy. But if we close on a big local project, then I might stay for a few months and manage a Destin office of Acacia Architecture.”
Jonah groaned. “And I’m going to be scrambling for child care, since Grandma and Jo Ellen are always off somewhere, and Kate’s gone.”
Meredith held up her hand. “I still have time for him and we’ll work it out, Jonah. The house is full of help.”
“You might stay?” Lacey leaned closer to Meredith. “How did I not hear about this?”
“Uh, I think his name is Roman,” Jonah said with a wry smile. “You’ve been checked out in the end zone, Spacey.”
She laughed at the old nickname and didn’t bother to deny the allegation. “So much that I missed the possibility of Meredith not going back to Atlanta?”
“I’ll go back,” Meredith said. “I just love this Lakeside job and if Acacia gets the project and I run it? Major professional coup.”
“The only coup that matters to Miss Perfect,” Jonah teased. Kind of teased.
She shot her brother a look, but the atmosphere was too lovely for an argument.
