Ana

I’m in the garden, digging out Jerusalem artichokes, when I glance up. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I see Roan and Lucy on the porch of the log cabin. They must have come in the back way.

Roan has returned!

I stand up, gripping the pointed shovel in my hand.

That no-good bastard!

I keep a hold of the shovel as I head for the garden gate. I’ve got a thing or two to say to Roan. There is a storm in me and finally I get to unleash it onto the jerk who knocked my daughter up and then abandoned her!

I fling the gate open, and stalk toward them.

They don’t see me coming because they’re too distracted by each other. Roan pulls Lucy against him. Their bodies meld and she gazes up at him. His hand raises and caresses her cheek, he’s whispering something to her.

They’re in love. They’re having a baby.

Roan leans down the few inches between them and kisses her, sweetly, softly. Lucy’s giggle, a gentle rustle in the warm afternoon, reaches me.

I stop my thundering approach, my grip loosening on the shovel.

They look happy. Blissful. A young couple in love, expecting a child.

Lucy turns and, seeing me, she waves, a giant grin on her face. She hasn’t been this happy since before the Scorching…maybe she’s never been this happy.

She grabs Roan’s hand and they start towards me.

I stand there in the grass, watching their approach. In this moment, I’m both the calm bay and the rough, open ocean.

“Ma! Roan is back and we are getting married!”

“Married?” My voice is scratchy, my throat tight. Roan meets my gaze. His gray eyes reflect the blue sky, reminding me of the Atlantic Ocean off the Jersey Shore on a sunny day. “You think you deserve her? After all you’ve done?”

“No ma’am.” His voice is steady, true. “But, I’ll do everything I can to make her happy.”

“He’s worthy of me, Mama, don’t worry.” Lucy wants to rush past this, I can tell.

“Where were you when my daughter needed you?” My voice is quiet, my gaze only on Roan.

Lucy chews her lip and I know she expected yelling. Heck, I planned on yelling! I only yell at those I love. And I don’t love Roan Winters. I’m angry at him, truly deeply enraged by his cowardice and presumption.

Just like my Paulie. Trying to do what was right and hurting those who needed him most in the process. That’s not brave, it’s selfish and foolish!

“Mrs. Luciano.” Roan steps closer to me. His gaze flicks for a moment onto the shovel I realize I’m brandishing. “I owe you an apology.”

I snort.

“I love your daughter and I should have admitted that a long time ago. Leaving Lucy the way I did is the biggest regret of my life. You’re a great mom and you’ve always been kind and warm to me. I admire and respect you. And I’ll do everything I can to earn back your trust.”

That’s the most words I’ve ever heard from him. Usually Roan’s a stoic statue, hardly speaks more than he grunts, and here he is telling me about how I’m a great mom, that he wants to earn my trust. And dammit if it isn’t working, if I don’t feel a softening inside.

I’m not sure if it’s his words or the way Lucy’s looking up at him—like he’s a hero, her future husband, the father of her child.

“Well, then.” I clear my throat. “You’ve got a long road ahead of you.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

“Don’t you be thanking me. Don’t be thanking me for anything.” I turn and head towards my garden. “Show your gratitude by being good to my daughter.”

Back among the tomato vines, surrounded by the scent of rich soil, my favorite perfume, I squat down, hidden from view, and go after some weeds, trying to keep the tears stinging my eyes from getting loose.

Roan has returned. They’re getting married, and Lucille won’t have to face what I faced. She won’t be alone to raise her child.

All of my children have found their partners.

Raising children capable of love, of being committed husbands and wives and growing happy families, has been a dream and goal of mine since they were born.

And now that dream has come to pass.

The tears escape, warming my cheeks as the sun heats my back and I rip at the invading weeds, tearing them out by the roots.