Dawson navigated the Southern California traffic, a curse halfway out of his mouth at every turn and lane change. He’d been spoiled in his Air Force assignments and on Getaway Bay, because he hadn’t driven in a mess of cars this big in a long time.

His nerves rattled around in his skull like ice cubes in a glass. He couldn’t believe coming to see his family was preferable to staying on the island, but without Charlotte, he didn’t want to be in Getaway Bay.

Wes and Nicole had been supportive, but he didn’t like the way they looked at him with sad eyes and thoughtful expressions, like they were calculating who they could next set him up with.

He was done with the set-ups anyway. Done with dating. He didn’t want anyone but Charlotte, and he’d never felt like that before. Not even with Janet.

Navigating off the freeway, he contemplated telling his family about Charlotte. Surely his mother would ask if he was seeing anyone, as she always did. She’d been hounding him for a decade to settle down and get married. She simply didn’t understand that he had long wings and loved to fly.

The piloting career should’ve been a dead giveaway.

His phone’s navigation app told him where to turn and which roads to take. He eventually pulled into a driveway of a modest home with white shutters and three other cars already parked there.

He sat in the car, undecided if he’d go inside the house or not. Tan and pink rocks decorated the outside of the house and a pine wreath hung on the door. A milk can of poinsettias sat on a small table on the porch, around which two chairs sat.

The sun shone brightly over San Diego, and Dawson hoped the next few days wouldn’t be all bad.

“You’ve got the hotel,” he said to himself, eying the door like a criminal might try to flee at any moment. His heart was definitely trying to beat free of his chest, and he honestly didn’t know if he could go inside or not.

There were so many demons to face, and some of them wore a striking resemblance to his own features.

As far as Dawson knew, Bronson had not dated anyone since Katharine. The thought of the two of them together didn’t sting as much as it usually did, even all these years later. As the seconds ticked by, Dawson realized they didn’t sting at all.

So he got out of the rental car, his long legs protesting at being folded inside for so long. He stretched, faced the sun with his eyes closed, and focused on the front door. It seemed to take dozens of steps to reach it, and then he was knocking.

Commotion sounded behind the wood, and he heard his mother say, “I get to answer it, Rich.” Seconds later, she did, and Dawson looked down into his mother’s eyes for the first time in almost ten years.

“Hey, Mom.”

She burst into tears and threw herself at him. Dawson caught her in a tight hug and held on, his own emotions boiling near the surface. His dad grabbed onto them both, and Dawson was eternally glad he’d decided to make this trip.

“Sorry,” he whispered to them, knowing he’d caused them some amount of pain by drifting away for so long. They held onto him like if they let go, he might disappear again, and he hated that he’d contributed to their heartache.

He caught sight of Rich standing with his wife, Allie, who was definitely pregnant.

He released his parents and grinned at them both. “It’s good to see you guys.” He stepped over to Rich, trying hard not to scan the living room for signs of Bronson. He grabbed onto his younger brother and hugged him tight too.

“Glad you made it,” Rich said. “Come on, girls. Come meet your Uncle Dawson.”

Dawson got lost in a flurry of activity as three girls came over, ranging in age from seven to two. They all wore identical jumpers made of festive red and green plaid, and Dawson hugged them all, feeling a family connection he hadn’t for a long, long time.

It was a warm feeling, one of rightness, and he wanted to grow and maintain these relationships.

He stood and gave Allie a quick hug. “So, is it a boy?”

“Rich doesn’t want to find out.” She glanced at her husband. “He doesn’t want to be disappointed if it’s not.”

“I won’t love the baby less,” he said. “I just don’t want to have to dwell on it forever.”

“I’m due in six weeks,” Allie said. “It’s not forever. Plus, I think it would be good for him to have some time to deal with his feelings if it is another girl.” She looked at Dawson as if he should have an opinion.

“Hey, you guys do what you think is right.” He glanced around, unable to put off looking for Bronson any longer. “Is he here?” he half-whispered as his mother still stood nearby. He didn’t want to make the holidays harder for her.

“His new puppy had to go to the bathroom,” Rich said, his tone dry as a bone.

“He has a new puppy?”

His mom sidled up beside him. “He thinks it’s a substitution for a woman.”

Dawson said nothing. He’d never been able to get a dog, because he flew so much and couldn’t take care of it. But he’d thought about substituting a dog for a woman plenty of times.

“So, what about you, dear?” his mom asked. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Seven minutes, Mom,” Rich said. “Couldn’t you have given him at least ten?” He shook his head, disgust evident on his face in a rare showing of emotion.

“What?” she asked innocently. “Can I help it if I want him to be happy?”

“What makes you think being in a relationship would make me happy?” Dawson asked.

Before his mom could answer, the back door slid open and Bronson said, “Come on, Bowser. Let’s go.”

Dawson turned that way, his eyes drawn to his youngest brother, the one he hadn’t spoken to in years, who’d caused such upheaval in Dawson’s life. His fingers curled and uncurled as his brother lifted his eyes from the puppy on the floor to Dawson’s.

Silence stretched, and finally Dawson took a step toward him. “Hey,” he said. He wasn’t sure if he was going to punch him or hug him as he walked toward Bronson. But he hugged him and said, “You got a dog?”

“Yeah, well, I’m going to try training it.”

“He doesn’t have a job,” their mother said, plenty of displeasure in her voice. All at once, Dawson realized he wasn’t the most disappointing son, and that made him smile bigger than the sky itself.

“No job, huh?” he said. “What happened?”

“He lost it because he was flirting with the manager’s daughter.” His mom moved into the kitchen as a timer went off. “Come on. Pizza’s ready. Stu, will you get out the plates?”

Dawson looked at Bronson for another moment, whatever animosity that had been between them for so long evaporating. He clapped his brother on the shoulder and said, “You heard her. Pizza’s ready.”

He managed to avoid talking about his love life whenever his mother brought it up. On this, his last full day in town, he did so by grabbing a Frisbee and saying, “Come on, girls. Let’s toss this around,” when his mother asked.

Leaving everyone else behind on the sand, he and Rich’s two older daughters positioned themselves several feet apart and began to throw the Frisbee. Lisa was actually the best at it, and she was only five. Lauren, the seven-year-old, didn’t seem to have an ounce of hand-eye coordination to save her life, and the Frisbee hit her square in the chest before her hands came down on either side of it.

“You okay?” he asked, taking a few steps and reaching her side.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She smiled up at him and said, “My mom knows what the baby is.”

Dawson paused, searching the little girl’s face. “Is that right?”

The blue-eyed child nodded solemnly. “She won’t tell Daddy.”

“Well, your daddy doesn’t want to know.” He took the Frisbee from her and said, “Should we go swimming?”

“It’s too cold,” Lisa said as she joined them. “And Lauren won’t tell me what the baby is.”

Dawson looked back and forth between the girls, thinking Wilma and Charlotte had to be close in age like these two, and they were fighting already. “Do you know too?”

Lauren nodded and shrugged. “Mom told me I couldn’t tell anyone. And you’re not great at keeping secrets,” she told her little sister with an air of importance.

Dawson wanted to tell her that she wasn’t either, or Lisa wouldn’t even know Lauren knew. But he didn’t say anything. Rich had some cute, polite girls, and Dawson had gotten along great with them.

“Is Daddy going to be happy?” Lisa asked, and Dawson thought he’d very much like to know that too. He watched Lauren, who had a killer straight poker face.

“What are you three huddled up about?” Allie approached, her steps a bit on the lumbering side as she navigated the shifting sand.

“Nothing,” Lauren said, but Lisa said, “She knows if you’re having a boy or a girl, and she won’t tell us.” She positioned herself next to Dawson as if they were a united front, demanding to know the sex of the baby immediately.

Allie froze, her eyes widening behind her sunglasses. “Lauren, you weren’t supposed to say anything.”

“I didn’t. I haven’t.”

“She’s lording it over us,” Dawson said. “But she hasn’t told us, she’s right about that.”

“I want to know too, Mommy,” Lisa said.

Allie looked like she had a tough decision to make. She glanced over her shoulder to where Rich lay flat on his back, his hat over his eyes. Dawson’s mom watched Bronson and Bowser as they ran on the beach in front of them, and Allie turned back to them.

“Fine,” she said. “It’s a boy.” A grin broke out on her face. “But don’t tell Rich. He doesn’t want to know, and I want to respect that.”

Lisa started to giggle, and Allie gave her a stern look. “I mean it, Lisa. You have to be a big girl about this. It’s a big secret.”

“I can do it, Mommy.” She laced her hand through her mom’s, and Lauren did the same. Allie took them with her, something about ice cream and churros from the stand down the beach a bit.

Dawson stood there for a few more moments, the Frisbee clutched in his hand. He belonged with his family, and he loved them. Even Bronson, who he’d considered never seeing again.

He was glad his brother would get his son, and Dawson had a strange urge to be a father himself, a completely new feeling for him. He’d not once asked Charlotte about having kids, if she wanted them, or why she hadn’t had any with her first husband.

Dawson wanted a family. A houseful of little girls with Charlotte’s strawberry blonde hair and beautiful sea-green eyes.

He went back to the towels and scrounged around in the backpack he’d brought with him until he found his phone. Stepping away from his parents and brother, he considered calling Charlotte.

She hadn’t answered any of his previous calls or texts, but maybe she would this time. An insane amount of hope delved through him, and he strongly disliked it. He couldn’t afford to get his hopes up, because dashed hopes could shatter hearts.

It was December twentieth, and her big wedding was today. She probably wouldn’t answer simply because of that. Maybe he should wait. He’d be flying back to Getaway Bay tomorrow, and he wanted the first face he saw when he disembarked on the island to be Charlotte’s.

It was eleven o’clock in the morning in Hawaii, so he knew Charlotte wouldn’t be in bed. She’d be running around completing last-minute details, and then behind her desk at Your Tidal Forever, planning the best way to make one of her demanding brides happy. Planning and attending weddings when she didn’t believe in love or marriage.

He pressed his eyes closed and decided to take one more leap of faith. He dialed her number and listened to the line ring, his heart wailing louder and louder with each moment where she didn’t pick up.

“Hey,” he said to her voicemail, pure disappointment bitter and acidic in the back of his throat. “I’m flying back to the bay tomorrow, and I’m wondering if you’d like to go to dinner. Or just meet me at the airport. Or something.” He wanted to turn back time and start over. Erase this message and say something cool and perfect and that used the words, “I love you.”

“Call me back. If you want.” He hung up before he could make a bigger fool out of himself and turned around to find his mother only two feet behind him.