48. Charlotte Home
Charlotte Home
Iris and I wanted to pick Bill up from jail, but he insisted that we didn’t. He said he wanted us to meet him on our own front porch, that that was the image that had gotten him through the past few weeks. Sitting on the small porch that faced the road, rocking in rocking chairs, Iris and I were silent for a few minutes. I finally broke the quiet. “Do the last few weeks feel like a dream to you?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I was kind of thinking that. Like we were plucked out of our normal life and had this totally crazy experience, and then we were just dropped back at home.” She looked over at me. “Mom, I know Juniper Shores is small, and people will be talking about us forever, but I don’t want to go back to New York.”
I gasped. “Bradley! I need to call him and tell him I’m not taking the job.”
“You’re not?” she practically squealed.
I shook my head. “No. I love working at Montoya and Sons, and I love how happy you are with your friends here, and I love that Alice and Elliott will be three houses down and Grace and Julie are two blocks away. I think I found something here that I never even knew I was looking for.” Best friends , I thought. I had found best friends. And I wasn’t going to give them up.
We both jumped up when Oliver’s car pulled up in front of our house. I ran down the steps, Iris hot on my heels, and practically knocked Bill over as I jumped into his arms. He squeezed me tight and kissed me hard before turning to hug Iris and kiss her on her cheek. “My little detective,” he said. “I think you’ve earned yourself a paid internship.”
She nodded seriously. “Dad, I think I’m going to follow in your footsteps.” She paused. “Or maybe I can track down Jeremy Isaacs and learn a little more about securities fraud and embezzlement, you know?”
Bill groaned. “It’s too soon for jokes.”
“It was a little funny,” Iris whispered. She said, “Dad! I’m going to go turn on a really hot shower for you!” and ran ahead of us.
I waved to Oliver, who waved back and drove away. I wasn’t sure if he was giving us alone time or if he simply needed a break from our family. I wouldn’t blame him. Bill put his arm around me and kissed my forehead. “I can’t tell you how this feels. This is the best day of my life. Thank you for never giving up on me.”
My heart swelled. Maybe it was true that absence made the heart grow fonder. Or you didn’t know what you had until it was gone. Clichés were clichés for a reason. I had taken Bill and our happy marriage and life for granted. I certainly wouldn’t do that now. Every day was a gift; no time was guaranteed.
I turned in the driveway to hug him again, to feel my full weight going onto him. These last few weeks, even if it wasn’t physical, I felt that I had carried Bill. I think he knew that. Now, with this nightmare coming to an end, it was time for him to carry me. At least for a while.
I pulled away, wiping tears from my eyes that I didn’t even know had fallen. “Go get in that hot shower,” I said. “You deserve it. I’ll make you something amazing to eat.”
“Can we go out tonight?” he asked.
“Anywhere you want,” I said.
“And then I need to meet all these women you’ve been living with,” he said. “Thank them for their support.”
I smiled, thinking of Grace and Julie and Alice, wondering how it was that that life, which had ended only a few hours ago, already seemed so far in the past.
I followed Bill inside and, as he walked upstairs, I continued on through and out the ocean-side doors and walked down to the beach, to this spot of sand in front of our house that, as much as our bedroom or our living room, felt like home to me. I wiggled my toes in the sand, squeezed my eyes closed, lifted my face to the sun, and thanked God for bringing Bill back to me. It was a miracle.
When I opened my eyes, I saw Grace striding through the sand, holding a big bag in each hand. “Hi!” she called.
“Hi!” I said, waving and running toward her.
“I thought you might need some food.” She scrunched her nose. “I even made meat for Bill.”
I laughed. “That’s true love. Well, come in. I want to introduce you.”
She shook her head. “Another time. Today is your day.”
I smiled. “It sure is. I’ve never felt this way before.”
Seagulls dove overhead and the waves sounded particularly soothing. It was a perfect day by all accounts. Grace bit her lip, then said, “But, hey, really, I just wanted to thank you.”
“Thank me?” I asked.
She nodded. “You showed me something really important, and I think you’re right. It never occurred to me that I was enough, just me, just as I am. You gave me that. Thank you.”
I put my hand to my heart. “I’m shocked by that. Thank you, Grace. But I should be thanking you. You kept me breathing.”
“That’s what best friends do.”
Best friends , I pondered as I took the bags from her, as I walked back to my house. Only a few weeks ago, I would have said that friends weren’t necessary, that they were nice but didn’t make that much difference in a life. Wow, had I ever been wrong. I watched Grace making her way back down the beach. Then I looked up at my house. With my husband. And my daughter. And all the things that were right with the world.
I thought of the past few weeks, the ups and downs, the things I had tried that I never even thought possible. Selling insurance. Being vegan. Having female friends. Moving in with my nemesis. We hadn’t just survived, Iris and I. We had thrived. And, maybe, we had even helped save my husband. I gazed at our house, feeling such pride and joy.
You could go home again. You most certainly could. And I was going to go right now.