She smiled at that and pulled onto the main road. “Thank you, Dusty.”
“Tess,” he said softly. “She has two parents, remember. Or will, when this is official. You don’t have to do life alone anymore.”
“Oh, I love you so much,” she whispered and never meant anything more.
“I love you, too. Be careful. Take any road but 98 to get here—it’s a parking lot.”
Lynda was there when Tessa pulled up to the house. Her silver sedan was parked behind Dusty’s truck, and she stood on the front porch, chatting with him, blazer on despite the heat, folio under her arm.
He turned and waved as Tessa pulled in, then came down the walk to meet her.
As she climbed out of her car, he cupped her face and looked at her for a half-second as though inspecting her state of sanity, then gave her a quick kiss.
“I told her about your mom,” he said. “I hope that’s okay.”
“Doesn’t make the Summer House sound very safe, but what can we do? Did she say what she wants?”
“No, she hasn’t been here that long. Come on, let’s do it.” He wrapped an arm around her in what felt like an act of solidarity and walked toward the front door and their waiting guest.
The smell hit Tessa from ten feet away—wet drywall, low-tide rot, mold.
“Ah, the lovely stench of two and a half feet of saltwater silt that decided to break into our house,” she said, attempting a light voice. “How did you fare in the storm, Lynda?”
They shook hands when Tessa reached her. “Much better than you,” the woman said.
Tessa gave a tight smile. “We have insurance, a lovely place to live, and…” She put her hand on Dusty’s shoulder. “My guy is handy and will be our contractor. This will look brand new in no time.”
Lynda just smiled and angled her head. “Dusty told me about your mother’s accident. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks. She’s going to be…” Tessa swallowed. She didn’t know if Mom would be fine. “Out of the ICU soon, we hope. AndI apologize…” She gave a vague gesture to her face. “It’s been a few sleepless nights, with the hurricane and all.”
Lynda nodded sympathetically. “I’m sorry to be doing this on the morning after you’ve been through such a difficult time.”
“That’s okay. I assume it’s urgent?”
Lynda gestured to the front door. “Can we go in?”
Tessa drew back, hoping her face didn’t look as horrified as she felt. “There’s nowhere to sit. There’s nothing but…no. You don’t want to go in there.”
“I have to,” she said, looking from one to the other. “By law, I have to see it before we take one step further on this adoption process.”
Tessa’s heart fell so hard she could have sworn she heard it hit the front porch.
“Of course,” Dusty said easily, stepping to the door and bringing out his keys. “We don’t have masks, but if you do, you might want to wear one.”
“I’m fine,” she said, following him inside.
The smell was worse in the foyer and somehow it looked even more dreadful after a day and a half of rotting. The throw rug from the front door was in a wet wad against the baseboard. Every wall had the brown water line. It was utter destruction, end to end.
Lynda took it in with a long, sweeping glance, no reaction visible. She inhaled and blew out the breath noisily. “Oh, yeah. This is bad.” Then she turned to them.
“We’re going to fix everything,” Dusty said.
“And we have a beautiful place to stay in the meantime,” Tessa added. “Olive’s so happy there with family and, oh, another baby. It’s a huge house and?—”
“Tessa.” Lynda’s voice was quiet as she reached out to put a light hand on Tessa’s arm. “Please, listen. I am not here to look for flaws or faults.”
Tessa bit back the kind of joke she always made when she was nervous, forcing herself to keep her mouth closed.
