Mother Nature had delivered a perfect day to meet the newest member of our family. I wanted to believe it was a sign that everything would work out. However, in the time since we’d left the offices of Clary, White, & Boyd, James had already pulled back. It had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the apprehension over meeting his son, who was not a newborn, but a child who knew little about him. I expected us to do this together, though now I felt like I was somehow intruding on their initial meeting.

“Do you not want me to go?”

We sat in the car at the end of the pier, staring out at a place the two of us had been hundreds of times before. It was as familiar to us as New York. I couldn’t count the number of memories we shared on that very pier and along that shore.

“I do. I’m just afraid we’ll overwhelm him. And I’ve never met Dottie. It’s not you. I’m just a mess. I absolutely need you here, just bear with me. I’m flying by the seat of my pants, and I’m about to lose my shit.” The only way past this was through it. He knew it; I knew it. Yet neither of us were comfortable with it.

With the windows down, it was easy to hear the waves in the distance and the seagulls crying. I didn’t miss Geneva Key, but I missed the way the air smelled of salt and how the wind blew through my hair in even the slightest breeze.

From our vantage point, we could witness every person who approached the playground from the parking lot or the beach. It had remained vacant until a few minutes after three. I couldn’t make out the features of either person who approached, other than it being an older woman and small boy.

“Do you think that’s them?” James asked as if one of them was the boogeyman, and I’d somehow gained superhero powers to thwart him.

“I’d say it’s a safe bet.”

“Are you ready?”

I still wasn’t convinced he wanted me to do this with him, but I’d regret staying behind. We were meeting our destiny—whatever that might be—and I was determined to be a part of it.

“As ready as I’m going to get.” I put on a brave face and unbuckled my seatbelt.

James and I met at the front of the car, and hand in hand, the two of us made our way down the pier to our future.

The woman lingered on the opposite edge of the playground, while the little boy ran to the jungle gym and immediately started climbing like a monkey. His exuberance brought a genuine smile to my face, and when I glanced up at my husband, I saw the same exuberance shining brightly on his.

“Dottie, look at me!” the small child yelled to his friend as he hung upside down by his knees from the metal bar.

When he began to swing, she called back, “Be careful, Legend.” Her silvery hair blew across her face when a gust of wind kicked up.

We stood at the edge of the pier and watched him play like any other kid. James squeezed my hand and met my eyes with wonder and love. I only hoped the two of us remained as optimistic while this all unfolded.

“Should we go introduce ourselves to Dottie first or Legend?” he asked as if I had the answers to this situation.

“I guess Dottie.”

He took the first step, and I followed behind him. My feet slowed when we hit the sand, but James always accommodated my shorter steps. If we’d been any place else under any other circumstances, he would have had me get on his back—however, it would be inappropriate here.

The closer we got to the woman, the more familiar she looked; although, her gray hair that whipped with the wind and her relaxed beach attire threw me off. Her gaucho pants swayed with the air, and her feet were bare, but when she moved her hair from her face to tuck it behind her ear, my heart stopped and so did my feet.

“What’s wrong?” James had continued to walk until my arm refused to follow. He turned to stare at me, wondering what was going on. He looked toward his target and back at me. “Cora?”

“That’s my grandmother.” When my heart started pumping again, it did so with a vengeance. The beat thumped loudly in my ears, drowning out the sounds of the waves and the giggles of the little boy on the playground. Not even the piercing cries of the seagulls could be heard.

“Baby, that’s Dottie. You heard him call her name.” His free hand took my jaw, and he kissed me sweetly on the lips “Come on. It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t; none of this was. I knew my grandmother. He’d never met her. In all the time we’d been together, even in high school, not once had I ever introduced them. And while I needed answers, now wasn’t the time to try to get them. I had no clue why my grandmother would have temporary custody of a five-year-old, nor why she would have been living with his mother—the woman who’d slept with James years ago.

The realization struck her the moment her attention pulled away from Legend to greet us.

Before she could speak, James stuck his hand out to introduce himself. “I’m James Carpenter, and this is my wife, Cora.”

Her eyes were glued to mine when I identified her first. “Gwendolyn Chase,” I spoke with malice and discontent. And refused to extend my hand as my husband had done.

“Cora.” It was a whisper the waves could have carried in with the wind. Her eyes were filled with something akin to remorse, while mine remained hardened.

“Dottie, watch!” Legend drew our attention toward him as he did a flip off the bar and landed on his feet in the sand just before he bottomed out.

The little boy was captivating and charming and a temporary reprieve from the woman behind me. His fiery-red mop was overgrown and a tad shaggy, and the way the sun reflected off the slightly curled ends made him appear angelic. I couldn’t help but notice his large, brown irises and the smattering of freckles that dotted his face and arms. And he was exceptionally tall. The only thing hinting at his younger age was the innocence in his sad eyes.

When he stood, he dusted the sand off the back of his shorts and then rubbed his hands together to remove the grit from them as well. It wasn’t until then that he realized he had an audience greater than one. He stopped, didn’t move an inch, and took his dad in from top to bottom before his eyes shifted to me. The grin that had fallen from his face when he first noticed us slowly appeared until the corners of his mouth tilted up in childlike innocence.

“Who’s your friends?” He ran over to us as he spoke and then grabbed my grandmother’s leg.

“This is your daddy and his wife, Cora.”

“I’m Legend, it’s very nice to make your acquaintance.” His little hand jutted out like a confident man. First to me, which I eagerly took and shook, and then to James.

“He’s been practicing that all afternoon.” Dottie’s eyes glimmered with pride, but I had a hard time not reaching up to gouge them out.

“It’s nice to meet you, too, buddy.” James had released my hand in order to squat and see his son at his level.

“You’re really tall. Will I be as tall as you?” He rambled like most kids did, and I could already see adoration for James in his eyes.

“Maybe, it sure looks like you’re well on your way.”

“You wanna see the tricks I can do?”

“Of course. Show me what you’ve got.” Legend took James by the hand, and with the first step they took, Gwendolyn was close on their heels.

I reached out, latching onto her forearm. Once the two of them got a few paces ahead, I whispered, “What are you doing here?” It was more like a hiss between clenched teeth, even though I tried to play nice.

She patted my fingers, and I jerked back, recoiling my arm. “Cora, sweetheart. Now isn’t the time.” And then she smiled at me in a way I’d never seen her do—as though she actually cared about someone other than herself. “Come on, don’t let our past shape his future.” She nodded toward Legend and James, but I wasn’t sure which she referred to.

***

I managed to keep my cool at the playground, although only by the grace of God. We had stayed for about two hours and then wandered down the street to grab an early dinner. I was shocked by how easily James and Legend had fallen into a groove. He’d never indicated a desire for children, yet seeing him with the little redhead made it obvious he was a natural.

Luckily, Gwendolyn—or Dottie, whatever her name was—focused on James and Legend and left me to myself to stew over her reappearance in my life. Legend monopolized the conversation, telling James everything he’d ever done, all his favorite foods, favorite color—blue, favorite superhero—Green Lantern, and anything else that came to mind. I interjected where I could without disrupting the flow of the conversation, but mostly, I watched in disbelief. I witnessed a side of my husband I’d never seen and met a version of my grandmother I wasn’t aware existed. And I wondered why she hadn’t been that loving with me when my parents had passed away.

Here she sat with a child she wasn’t even related to, playing the doting family friend, while she couldn’t be bothered to stay home to help me acclimate to a new town and school when I was forced to leave New York. I couldn’t decide whether to resent her more for it or be grateful she’d been here for Legend when he needed someone. Selfishly, I wanted to focus on the first, even if I knew it should be the last. It just didn’t make any sense to me. The woman I’d just spent the last four hours with wasn’t the one whose house I’d shared as a teenager or the one my father had painted a picture of. I liked Dottie, I loathed Gwendolyn, but I had a hard time differentiating between the two.

There was never a point during the afternoon or evening that provided an opening for me to pull my grandmother aside to find out what was going on, and we ended up leaving without Legend or an explanation.

Once we were back in the car, James put his hands on the steering wheel, and before he backed out of the parking space, he said, “That went really well. Don’t you think?” He started to drive waiting for me to respond.

I was at a crossroad. Either I confirmed for him how well things went with Legend, or I brought up how unnerved I was by Gwendolyn’s involvement. One would draw us closer while neglecting the other, and one would push us apart while accomplishing nothing.

“Yeah, it did. He’s a great kid. I’ve never seen such an infectious smile. It was hard not to scoop him up in a hug and refuse to let go. Are you excited to spend some time alone with him tomorrow?”

Dottie thought it would be best to make a slower introduction and have Legend go home with her tonight and then us spend more time with him the following day. I agreed. Ripping him away from the only place he’d ever lived wasn’t a good idea, although I hated thinking of him being so little in that enormous house. I’d felt lost there as a teenager, so I could only imagine how tough it would be for a small child.

“You ready to face the firing squad?” He acted as if seeing his parents would be worse than what I’d just endured. He hadn’t had much of a relationship with them until the last few years, but they’d never been unkind to me, just indifferent.

“It won’t be that bad. What did they say when you called them yesterday about us coming?”

“They were really excited we wanted to stay with them.” The way his tone lingered told me that wasn’t all. “But I didn’t think this was news I should give them by phone.”

“You haven’t told them?” I screeched and jerked my head in his direction. “Are you insane? They’re going to murder you in your sleep. I’m tired. I can’t sleep with one eye open. We need to get a hotel.”

He laughed like any of this was funny. “We’d have to leave the island. You know there’s no hotel anywhere nearby. Plus, it’s possible they might be excited.”

His optimism wasn’t humorous. His parents would not be the slightest bit amused by finding out they had a grandchild born out of wedlock five years after the fact. This was the stuff scandals were made of, and their appearance was of utmost importance in their circles. The Carpenters and the Chases ran in similar crowds—none of which approved of marrying outside of the pack, much less fathering children with people not of the same social standing.

I sat back hard against the seat and crossed my arms over my chest in protest. “Fine, it’s your funeral.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic. I’m in my thirties; what are they going to do?”

“Disown you? Publicly humiliate you? Stone you? Burn you at the stake? Do you have a preference? If so, I’ll try to get them to lean in that direction—possibly tar and feather? My powers of persuasion can be hard to resist.”

He stopped and put the car into park. His hand slid up my thigh and rested between my legs, and then his lips were on mine. James could distract me from just about anything with his touch, but a make-out session at a stoplight wasn’t going to get him anywhere with his parents. Or the car honking behind us. I fought him off with a laugh as the guy behind us came around the car, shaking his fist in irritation.

“Just drive. Might as well get this over with.”

Geneva Key was a hop, skip, and a jump from one side of the island to the other, but we were only a hop away from the Carpenters’ house. When we pulled up, the lights were on out front, and it was the same house I remembered visiting in high school. Not even the landscape seemed to have changed. But where there was always a butler or a maid who’d answered the door then, his mother welcomed us before we knocked.

Instantly, her arms were around her son, and she pecked him on the cheek. As quickly as she’d latched onto him, she let him go to embrace me. My arms were stuck at my sides, yet I did my best to return the greeting with an awkward pat on her back and a contorted grin she couldn’t see. After she finally released me and blood returned to my limbs, I looked up to find Brock Carpenter standing behind her. His stern features had softened over the years, and the intimidating expression that had always lingered in his eyes had been replaced by warmth.

“Hey, son. It’s good to see you and your beautiful bride.” His baritone timbre made me blush.

Thankfully, he wasn’t an affectionate man—at least, not with James or me. A man in a suit appeared flanking Brock’s side before silently moving past us to grab our luggage.

Susan waved us along as she spoke. “Excuse my manners. Please, come inside. You must be tired from flying. There’s fresh coffee and dessert in the kitchen.”

“Actually, Mom, we got here this morning.”

Oh crap, so this was how he planned to lay things out—just dump it all on the table and then sort out the pieces. It was the same way he put together a puzzle—zero logic or planning. James was not an outside-edge-first kind of guy, and he never looked at the picture on the box. No part of this scenario could go well. If I thought I could hold my breath during the entire revelation, I would, just so I didn’t miss a single word. It was a sadistic kind of anticipation that my husband wouldn’t fare well in.

“This morning? What on earth took you so long to get here?” she asked as she passed mugs and dessert plates around the island in the kitchen.

This was where his plan came to a grinding halt.

I loved my husband, but when it came to matters of the heart, he didn’t take calculated risks—he went all in with everything he had. It was part of what made him such an amazing man and incredible lover—although, I didn’t get the impression Brock and Susan Carpenter were going to be besotted with his admission.

“We had to stop by an attorney’s office.” When James paused, his father’s brow drew in. However, he wasn’t given long to interject before James continued. “And then we went to the playground at the pier. And we had dinner with my son.” He took a sip of coffee as though he’d just told them we had enjoyed a sunset stroll along the shore.

I shouldn’t have worried about missing anything over the sound of my breathing, because nothing was said. The silence was eerie and unnerving. More minutes ticked by with my attention flicking to each person huddled on barstools around the counter. The only one who met my gaze was Susan.

“Oh, Cora.” Her eyes filled with tears, and those two words had me stumped.

“No.” It instantly dawned on me what she’d assumed. “No, no. Susan, this didn’t happen while we were married—or even together. It was while I was in France.”

“That can’t be right. That would make the little boy around four or five years old. Why are we just now finding out about this, James? Who else knows? Brock, did you hear that? We have a grandchild.”

And that was exactly the reaction I expected from her.

“Just calm down, Mom.” James’s tone was far too harsh for his father’s liking.

“Remember whose house you’re in, son.”

If I could have backed my stool away to avoid the line of fire without anyone noticing, I would have. I was close enough to get caught in the crosshairs from where I sat.

“Can everyone relax, please?” My husband pleaded with his parents, not so much with his voice, but his expression. His eyes said far more than his mouth, and thankfully, they both noticed it and stopped.

“Okay, son, we’re listening.” His mom’s voice returned to the mellow tone she’d had when we arrived, before he’d dumped the weight of a tiny human on her unexpectedly.

He proceeded to tell them the events in the order in which they happened for us: the letter, the paternity test, the lawyer, telling me, the flight, meeting with the attorney, the playground, dinner, then here. They listened without so much as a peep, even though I could see the questions forming in his father’s eyes.

“That’s where we’re at. We just met Legend a few hours ago, so it wasn’t that I was keeping anything from you; I didn’t have any information to give. I wasn’t certain if I was even expected to take custody of him or if another family member was going to fight me. It’s all a tad overwhelming.”

“Legend? The boy’s name is Legend?” Susan asked and James nodded in response. “Does he have our last name?”

I was about to lose my composure again. I could only imagine it was the stress of the situation that made a child’s name so humorous—or unfortunate, however I looked at it.

“No, it’s hers. Airy.”

The glint of amusement tugged on her cheeks, which only served to feed my own issue. Both of us snickered, and neither man thought it was the slightest bit funny. Although, I doubted Brock had said the full name in his head.

“My grandson’s name is Legend Airy?” She tried to cover her mouth as the laughter escaped, but she was as unsuccessful as I’d been at the attorney’s office.

Just before James erupted in irritation, his father chuckled and tried to disguise it as a cough.

“Seriously? You guys are laughing at my son.”

“No, baby…just his name,” I choked out the words mid-chortle.

He threw his hands in the air. While I knew he was frustrated, it had completely diffused what was otherwise about to get out of hand quickly.

“When can we meet him?” His dad’s question surprised me, and James, too.

“I’m not sure, Dad. I don’t have a clue how all of this will work. He’s lived here his entire life and just lost his mom. Are we supposed to tear him away and whisk him back to New York because that’s what’s convenient?”

I hadn’t even thought about that. I assumed he would come home with us, but when James put it that way, my own history came rushing to mind. I had desperately wanted to stay with Faith in New York after my parents passed away, and Gwendolyn and Owen had refused to even consider it. Now I wondered if we needed to contemplate staying here, at least for a while, for Legend to get to know us.

“We’re spending the day with him tomorrow; maybe we could ask him if he’d like to meet your parents. If he’s open to it, then I don’t think it would hurt. Do you?”

His mom’s face lifted in hope. She clapped her hands together and held her fingertips to her lips, waiting on James to respond.

“Would that work for you guys?” he asked them both.

Brock nodded to Susan, and she stepped around the island to throw her arms around her son. “Thank you, James.” She never called him by his name—no one did. It was strange to hear.

As if someone had flicked a switch, the focus went from my husband to me by the least likely subject, Brock. “Cora, sweetheart, how are you handling all of this? I can’t imagine it’s easy finding out you’re now the proud parent of another woman’s child.”

Other than Neil and Hannah, the Carpenters were the nearest thing I had to family—and we weren’t close. Gwendolyn had sent me sporadic emails since the day I’d left Geneva Key, though I almost never read them and often just clicked delete. An email did not a relationship make. This might just be the very thing that changed the dynamic between the four of us, that opened a door that had been partially closed as long as I could remember. This could be the opportunity for us to create what we hoped for in a family.

“It’s a struggle.” I chose not to lie. In the end, it wouldn’t do me any good. “But James and I weren’t together when he met Chelsea, and she was a good friend to him when I was in France. I’m trying to be open to the situation while remembering there’s an innocent child who was left in the middle between adults’ mistakes.” I offered Brock a meek smile.

“Cora never wanted children.”

I was surprised James revealed that. Most people didn’t understand and assumed I didn’t like kids. Before his parents had a chance to respond, I offered my own explanation. “My parents died when I was a junior in high school. Children shouldn’t go through that.” I shrugged, acting as if it didn’t matter, yet hoping it answered their questions without starting a discussion.

They continued talking around me, and my thoughts drifted back to a time before my parents had passed away. Unfortunately, I got stuck in a loop in the limo coming home from the concert, seeing Faith’s face when she got the call, hearing myself cry out in disbelief. I hadn’t talked to her in years and wondered how she had faired when we lost touch. I hadn’t been able to maintain a relationship with her because it hurt so much, although every once in a while, she’d creep into my thoughts and I would once again regret pushing her away.

While they continued to talk—about what I no longer knew—I excused myself, needing some time alone.

***

I left my shoes at the house in favor of strolling on the beach barefoot. The sand was warm between my toes, and the waves licked it away as quickly as I took another step. I loved the dark blues of the sky just after the sun had gone down and the moon had taken its place. The ocean rippled with peaks of light, while the water appeared black. And the shades of indigo that turned onyx as they rose off the horizon reminded me of Van Gogh’s Starry Night. It was picturesque in a way that belonged exclusively to Geneva Key and one of the few things I adored about this town.

James hadn’t been given much longer to process this news than I had, but he had a couple days, and he seemed to be faring far better. I wanted to meet him at the place he was mentally, yet making that happen wasn’t as easy as clicking my heels together. Since arriving in Geneva Key, my parents’ death and what followed after had hung heavy in my mind and on my heart. I’d never been close to my grandparents, and the only truths I had were the things my father had told me growing up. He never made them out to be bad people, just indifferent—self-absorbed maybe. He’d always acted like Gwendolyn and Owen couldn’t be bothered to spend holidays or special occasions with us because their life was on the road—business and charity. Yet I wondered—seeing Gwendolyn with Legend—if there hadn’t been more to the story. Everything he’d said about them lined up perfectly with exactly what they’d done when I was forced to live on this little island a thousand miles away from the only life I’d known.

I couldn’t remember the specifics of when Gwendolyn had actually tried to reach out; I just knew in high school how isolated I’d felt. And I believed then the only reason they’d taken custody was to keep up the image of who they were with their friends and business associates. But the woman I met today was nothing like the one whose house I’d lived in over a decade ago—not even her hair or her clothes resembled that person.

When I stopped long enough to take in my surroundings, I found myself on the beach behind my grandmother’s house. I hadn’t stepped foot in it since leaving Geneva Key at eighteen. The lights shined like beacons through the windows, and I could see people moving behind the curtains. It wasn’t all that late, although, late enough that I imagined Legend would be in bed, and I might be able to talk to Gwendolyn alone. It wasn’t a secret how she felt about visitors who arrived without invitations, but I hadn’t cared what she thought before now, and I didn’t let it stop me from ringing the bell at the front door.

I wasn’t the least bit surprised when a woman I didn’t recognize greeted me. Gwendolyn’s staff had probably turned over ten times since I’d left for college.

“Hi, is Gwendolyn home?” I squared my shoulders and raised my chin with confidence.

“I’m sorry, you must have the wrong house.”

I stepped back to inspect the front porch to confirm I hadn’t somehow wandered up to the wrong place. “No, this is the right place. I’m looking for Gwendolyn Chase.”

“This is the Morris residence, ma’am.”

“That’s not possible, my grandparents have lived here for years. Well, my grandfather passed away, but my grandmother lives here.” I was rambling about stuff I was sure the woman didn’t care about—she had to be mistaken.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. Mr. and Mrs. Morris have lived here for nearly a decade.”

My stomach rose into what felt like my chest and bile lingered in the back of my throat. “I-I’m sorry to, um…to have bothered you. Thank you.” I stammered most of the sentence and tried to ignore the look of pity in the woman’s eyes. I felt like a fool.

Ten years. My grandmother hadn’t lived in this house for ten years, and I wasn’t aware of it. I couldn’t fathom why she would have ever left; everyone knew where the Chase family lived—it was a statement just like their lives. Giving it up meant losing part of her identity. None of it made any sense. That mansion had been as important to them as their bank account. And she hadn’t bothered to inform me she’d moved.

The tears only served to irritate me. I wasn’t sad they’d left; that house meant nothing to me. And we weren’t close so I couldn’t figure out why I cared if she moved without sending me her new address. Yet some part of me felt violated and totally out of touch—a stranger to the only person remaining on this earth who shared my DNA. She’d moved on and left me behind.

I ran down the steps that led to the beach. The motion detectors illuminated a path as I navigated the stairs before my feet hit the warm sand, and the sounds of the crashing waves welcomed me back to the white space where time ceased to exist and noise was swallowed by the ocean. And there at the water’s edge, I stood with my face tilted toward the moon and let the emotion fall from my eyes and the tides steal it away.

By the time I finally wandered back to the Carpenters’ house, it was after ten, and most of the lights were out. James waited for me in the kitchen with a cup of freshly brewed coffee. He’d changed into jersey shorts without a shirt or socks, and his bare chest brought me home—back to the only comfort I’d had since my parents passed away. His skin was warm against mine, and his powerful arms tucked me into impenetrable security.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” he whispered into my ear.

I shook my head, sobbing into the crook of his neck. His hand stroked my hair, and he kissed my temple. James had been my rock since the day I’d laid eyes on him in Harbrook High, and I knew without a doubt, no matter what we had to go through, I’d never leave his side—because he’d never left mine.