“What do you say?” I challenge.
“Can we go to the beach now, please, Daddy?” she replies, a tentative smile on her face.
“That’s better. And yes, we can. Go and wash your hands, please, and then we’ll get ready to go.”
“Is Bunny coming with us?” she asks hopefully, making puppy dog eyes at both of us in turn.
Corey looks to me, and I smile, wanting nothing more than for the three of us to spend the whole day together.
“I’d love to,” he replies.
We spend three hours at the beach, Nancy flitting between building sandcastles, collecting shells, and burying both Corey’s and my feet in the sand. She toddles a few feet away, inspecting the ground with the intensity of an archaeologist, on the hunt for more white shells for her collection, when I look at Corey laid out next to me on the blanket.
I lean over him, and his eyes open, bright pools of green I want to drown in.
“What’s up?” he asks, a soft smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
“I love you,” I say, my expression serious, voice firm. His smile spreads.
“I love you too,” he replies.
“I love you too,” Nancy cries from her dig site.
I huff a laugh, lean down, and kiss him.
Thirty-one
Corey
Nancy is tucked up in the cushion pile, exhausted after a long morning on the beach and an attempt to defy her tiredness this afternoon by helping me organise my art supplies in the studio. I still can’t believe Nash created this space for me, a permanent place to create, be inspired, and spend time with Nancy.
I know that if I’m to have a future with Nash, that means a future with Nancy as well, and having a space that’s just ours to share an activity we both enjoy and have found incredibly helpful in our individual therapy journeys as well… It means everything.
I can vividly imagine ten, fifteen yearsdown the line, reminiscing with a teenage Nancy about the times we’ve spent here creating art in this space together. It’s a vision I want for myself, for all of us. A family all our own, filled with unconditional support and love.
The sun is dipping in the sky, the long summer days getting marginally shorter as we move ever closer to Autumn. I feel the air chill ever so slightly as a cloud covers the sun, and I grab a blanket, tucking it over Nancy so she doesn’t get cold while she sleeps.
I turn back to my canvas, picking up the brush and palette I was using, and add some tourmaline to the sky. It’s an abstract piece of three horizontal sections all blending into one another, a representation of the joy I’ve been filled with today. The pale pink colour complements the soft peaches and oranges of the sun-drenched sky, the sand and dunes a swathe of gold in the foreground, and a band of deep blue represents the sea, a tumultuous layering of ocean and lapis, slate and peacock, with highlights of the brightest teal.
I step back to take it in, and movement in the corner of my eye catches my attention. I turn to see Nash leaning against the door-jamb, a soft, almost indulgent smile on his face.
“Hi,” I whisper, putting my finger to mylips, then nodding at where Nancy is still fast asleep.
He doesn’t say a word, just walks over to me, cups my face in both hands, and kisses me. As they always do, his kisses melt me from the inside out, and I blindly place my brush and palette behind me on the drafting table.
When my hands are free, I wipe them clumsily on my jeans before threading them up into Nash’s hair. He groans quietly when I scratch his scalp lightly, before pulling away.
“I’ll carry her inside. It’s time for dinner,” he says, with a peck on my nose. “You too.” He calls that last over his shoulder as he carefully navigates the steps to the orangery studio.
I can’t help but smile at his assumption that I’ll be staying for dinner. I need to go home tomorrow. I promised Emma we’d have breakfast in the café before she starts her first day with Nash and Nancy. But when I called her earlier, she told me to ‘fill my boots’. So classy, that one. And fuck, I love her for it.
I’d been over here feeling bad that she’d be on her own, trying to adapt to a new place and new people, but oh no. She informed me that she and Wren had a whale of a time last night, and this morning over coffee, she’d been invitedto join a book club by Gloria, whoever that is, and had been asked out on a date. She did admit that her would-be suitor was an octogenarian, but hey, she’s settling in just fine and is loving the quiet life already.
She’s also really excited about working with Nancy. I think she’d missed working with kids more than she realised until she met Nancy, and the little girl has sparked her love for education once more. In fact, one of Emma’s moving boxes had been full of educational materials that she’d collected before we moved.
I clean my brushes and palette before locking the door and heading inside. It smells out of this world. The sweet, spicy scents of star anise, cinnamon, cloves, chili pepper, and fennel hang fragrant in the air as Nash serves three plates of stir-fry vegetables and noodles with glazed salmon.
“Mmm, smells delicious,” I say as I move into the kitchen.
