It did, but this “mom” worry was new to Tessa. And, whoa, it was intense. “We’re cutting it close on the storm, Dusty. I know she’s not in an evacuation zone, but trees fall on houses, roads flood, things happen.”
“We will have Olive for the storm. We will be safe and, no matter what, we will protect her with our lives.” He squeezed her hand. “I’d give mine for hers.”
Her heart felt like it folded in half. “Don’t make me love you more, Dustin Mathers.”
He grinned and jutted his chin toward a house covered in plywood, with big red letters sprayed on to demand:Go away, Norman!
Maybe he would, she thought glumly. Hurricanes turned course all the time…right?
She could hope.
They pulled into the Summer House driveway behind enough cars to confirm that the gang was all here.
Inside, the place was full of familiar faces, the scent of Kate’s red sauce on the stove—thank goodness, there would be dinner—and a weird hum of tension that Tessa could not remember ever feeling in this house.
Maybe once, that fateful night when the Wylie and Lawson parents had “the big blowout”—although that was a completely different house. She’d come home from an unfortunate outing with Eli when she’d rejected his request for a kiss in the worst, most cavalier Tessa Wylie manner, only to find their little cottage had been turned upside down in a heated argument.
After that, they’d all sailed away to separate lives, until this year.
But this tension wasn’t anger or unspoken words. This was a mix of fear and uncertainty and low-key confusion. Atlas was on the floor mat in the living room, kicking with the focused effort of a five-month-old considering a rollover. Pepper sat cross-legged beside him in shorts and a faded T-shirt with the silhouette of a ballerina on the front, one hand resting lightly on the baby’s belly, making soft cooing sounds at him.
Tessa stopped in the doorway and watched, caught by something in the gesture, the young woman’s voice, the gentleness of her touch. It was…maternal. Deeply natural and unconscious.
Huh. Jonah had won the lottery with that nanny.
Tessa hugged and kissed loved ones as she made her way through the room, pausing at the sight of her mother, inches from Maggie, tucked together on the loveseat, heads bent toward each other, whispering.
A flash of that memory from thirty-plus years ago—the yelling, the accusations, the fury, the fight…the insane absence of a goodbye.
Look how far these old friends had come.
She gave her mother a kiss and beamed at Maggie, explaining why they didn’t have Olive.
Eli was at the dining room table with a laptop and a slightly abused legal pad covered in scribbled notes, barely looking up to give her a wave.
How far they’dallcome, she mused as she greeted Meredith and Connor, deep in conversation at the island, on her way to the stove. There, Vivien was sipping a glass of wine next to Kate, who was stirring her sauce.
“Come here,” Vivien demanded, flicking her fingers to get Tessa to move faster. “I need to look at you.”
Tessa let herself be drawn behind the kitchen island, and Vivien put one warm palm on her cheek. “What a week, huh? You good?”
“I’m okay,” Tessa said.
Kate looked over her shoulder, the spoon slowing as she frowned. “You look terrible.”
“Thank you, sis. Never forget we’re twins.”
“Olive’s with Morgan?” Vivien asked.
“Two nights. We get her back Friday morning before we head out. We have a hotel in Tallahassee. Traffic will be so much fun, right?”
“No, no, you can stay with us in Rock Hill,” Vivien said. “The sheriff’s office found a huge overnight rental and Peter’s invited anyone who wants to bunk in an Airbnb to stay there. Wine?”
Tessa shook her head. “I’ll need my wits about me to follow Eli’s instructions.”
“No kidding.” Kate rolled her eyes. “The man is on a safety and security mission. I’ll take a wine, Viv.”
While Vivien poured, Tessa grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and looked out across the open space that made up the main floor of the Summer House.
