“I guess.”
“I’m going for a walk on the cliffs. Grandma’s here if you need anything.”
“Okay.” He’d already returned his attention to the training book he’d gotten from the library.
Anne went back through to the lanai.
“Ready?” Noah asked.
She crammed a sunhat onto her head and slipped her feet into a pair of sandals. “Ready.”
They walked along the cliffs until they reached the ironwood forest, where Noah produced a picnic blanket from his basket and spread it out on the pine-needle floor. Anne sat down, and the forest floor sank beneath her like a memory-foam mattress.
“This must be the most comfortable picnic spot in the world,” she said.
“I always thought so.” Noah laid out a spread of fresh lychee, onigiri, sliced veggies, and ‘ulu dip. Finally, he pulled out two bottles of sugarcane-juice lemonade.
“What a perfect lunch.” Anne said, taking a sip of lemonade.
“And perfect company.” He clinked his drink against hers.
They chatted about their adventures (and misadventures), bouncing easily between their shared memories and the decades they had spent apart. They shared their triumphs and tragedies, and just generally got to know each other again.
When they finally walked home, hand in hand along the cliffs, she felt as though they had built a bridge between their shared childhood and the present day. With luck, that bridge might even extend to a shared future.
Noah kissed her goodbye on the lanai, and she floated into the house on a cloud.
“What was that?” Zoe’s harsh tone brought her right back to Earth.
Anne startled and looked around to find her eldest daughter glaring at her from the kitchen.
“Are youdatingnow?”
“You make it sound like a crime.”
“You are unbelievable.”
Anne took a deep breath, pushing down the urge to snap back at her daughter. They were both adults, but she was the mother. She was the one who desperately wanted to repair their relationship.
But Zoe wouldn’t relent.
“You think you can just come back and pick up where you left off?”
“This is my home too, Zoe.”
“It’s not! Not anymore. You made it very clear a long time ago that you were too good for us, too big for small-town life. Just because you show up broke and turnourhome into a business doesn’t mean that you’re one of us.”
Tears pricked at Anne’s eyes. “I am one of you.”
“You never wanted to be! Not until the mainland chewed you up and spat you back out.”
“I’m trying to build a life here.”
“Why?” Zoe demanded.
“Because I love you! All of you!”
“You love yourself more than you ever loved me.”
