“You okay, angel?” I murmur, pulling her close, her cheek resting against my chest as my arms wrap around her.
She lets out a long, heavy sigh. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“You guess?”
“I was just caught off guard, that’s all. Even long after his death, Adrian still finds ways to surprise me. She looks so much like him, Kaden. Her eyes, her smile, even the same dimple on one cheek. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.”
“She’s definitely changed since the last time I saw her, back when she was so tiny she could fit perfectly in my arms.”
Hope pulls back just enough to meet my gaze. “I forgot you were there at her birth and for the six weeks after. I’m sorry, baby. That must have been hard for you, seeing her too.”
“There was some guilt, of course, mostly for abandoning her and not checking in after her mother died. I always assumed she’d be surrounded by love and support, given that Lucia came from a large Italian family. And judging by the wary glances her aunt was sending our way, I suppose I was right.”
Hope chuckles softly. “She did seem a little protective.”
“I would too, if that was my daughter or niece.”
Hope pulls back completely and walks over to the porch railing, resting her back against it. “This is going to be one hell of a shock for Zac when he meets her tomorrow. All this time, and he never even knew he had another sister out there.”
I cross the space to stand beside her, leaning my side against the railing as I face her. “He’ll certainly be shocked, but he’ll welcome her with open arms. Because if there’s one thing we know about our son, it’s that family is family to him—blood or not, he’ll accept them and love them just the same.”
Hope smiles, and closes the gap between us, cupping my cheeks in her hands as her beautiful eyes lock onto mine. “You’re absolutely right. And the way I see it, that’s one more sister who will love and care for Zac.”
I lean down, pressing my lips to hers, kissing her with the same intensity I’ve felt for the past fifteen years.
“Ew...gross!”
We snap our heads towards the door to find Willow and Lily standing there, freshly showered and changed, their faces twisted in mock disgust.
“Get a room, guys—nobody wants to see that,” Willow quips.
Hope buries her head against my chest, her shoulders bouncing with silent laughter.
“All right, you two. One more comment from either of you, and you’ll be on cleaning duty all week.”
Lily opens her mouth, ready to protest, but I raise an eyebrow and shoot her a mock warning glare, quickly silencing her.
“Whatever,” Willow murmurs, looping an arm around her sister’s shoulders. “Let’s go watch a movie, Lilz, before they fry our eyeballs with any more of their gross kissing.”
Before I can get another word out, the two rascals dash into the living room, giggling like mischievous little mean girls, trying to escape my not-so-serious scolding.
Hope chuckles, shaking her head. “I hope Zac is ready for another sister, because those two, are a handful already.”
I let out a soft laugh. “They are, but that’s exactly why we love them.” Pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, I wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to my side. “Now, let’s call Zac and tell him the news, and then we can join those two little terrors on the couch for a movie.”
“I love the way you think, Mr Grant,” she grins, as she circles an arm around me.
“And I love you, Mrs Grant.”
I press one last tender kiss to her lips before we step inside, ready to make the call that will change Zac’s, and our lives—forever.
Willow and Lily walk ahead of us, clutching their small bouquets tightly, the flowers carefully hand-picked from our own garden this morning. Hope’s hand rests gently in mine while my free one carries the very full picnic basket as we stroll together through Wattle Grove Memorial Park, the late Sunday afternoon air warm, quiet and familiar around us, marking another of our regular visits. Only this time, we’re here to celebrate what would have been her Aunt Amber’s eighty-fourth birthday.
Almost every Sunday afternoon, we come to this very place, setting up a small picnic beside the graves of our loved ones. It’s our way of keeping them close and honouring their memories—by sharing stories about the people our daughters either never met or were too young to remember. Even Zac would join us on occasion.
It had only been a few hours since we got off the phone with him and told him the news about Arianna—his half-sister, and his reaction had been exactly what we had expected and hoped for. At first, he was stunned into silence, struggling to wrap his mind around the fact that his late father had a secret child, that there was a sister out there he had never known existed.
But then, just as we knew he would, he told us he couldn’t wait to meet her. That he would welcome her and accept her, regardless of the past. In the end, all that mattered to him was that he had gained another sister and friend for life. And it was in that moment, we knew, everything was going to be just fine.
