Sixty-Three—Mia
T
here are some moments that grab you by the throat with their perfection, and this was one of them. I was sitting on Geneva Talbot’s massive front porch on a wicker sofa eating ice cream surrounded by people I cared about. My brother and sister, Ivy, her grandmother, my adorable nieces crammed against either side of me. And I’d just gotten an I love you , from Derek. A three-word text from somewhere in in the Middle East that made me ache with joy and missing and wishing he was right here with the rest of us. My relief after days of worrying he’d changed his mind—or worse, regretted what he’d said—left me breathless.
I leaned back and let the soft breeze pushing around the perfect temperature of night play over my face and breathed deep the contentment. I decided right then that Isle of Hope, Georgia, was a healing place. It had to be considering all that had happened in the last week and the feeling of subdued tranquility that permeated the end of this day.
Geneva caught my eye, “You look thoughtful, Mia. Are you well, sug?”
I licked my spoon and nodded. “It’s just so lovely here. Do you ever get tired of it?”
The old woman chuckled. Geneva Talbot looked completely regal in her dark blue tunic and long coral skirt, the soft folds of her face framed by long white hair that puddled on her chest. Her eyes were sad and tired, but she smiled when she drew in a deep breath. “This place is like my skin,” she said. “Sagging, old, bruised, completely familiar. And I love it. I grew up here, and I’ll die here.” She said looking a bit pinched by the thought. “My husband grew up in this very house, and I think he still wanders around in there from time to time.”
I smiled.
Geneva looked at us. “He would surely have loved you Suttons. TL was a sucker for families. If he’d had his way, we would’ve had ten kids.” She laughed. “And I would be very, very tired.”
Ivy had said something similar about loving the whole idea of families. I looked at her now and thought of Daniel’s family and what that had put her through. She reached over and took her grandmother’s hand, and Geneva brought Ivy’s wrist to her lips.
“I think you’ll just have to adopt us,” said Camille.
“Consider it done, sug,” Geneva said. “And I want y’all to know you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. All y’all. It is lovely to have you here. Just lovely.” She took in each of us, and I for one felt her gaze like a blessing. She nodded at Camille with warm reassurance, and my sister teared up. “Thank you,” she mouthed. When Geneva got to Bo, she said, “Oh, that reminds me, Benjamin: Ivy and I have been talking, and we want you to have Bree’s jewelry—share it with Mia, of course. It’s a substantial collection, and most of it is one of a kind, which I know you can appreciate. I would have no idea what to do with it, but I figure you could use it or repurpose it or find a good home for it.”
I swallowed a happy gasp. “Really?”
“Ivy, don’t you want it?” Bo said, surprised.
She shook her head. “There are a couple of things I want, but Mama had her own style, which you can probably tell is not my style. So, no. Gran and I want you to have it. I’ll take you over to Bree’s tomorrow, and we’ll gather it up.” Ivy smiled at my brother, and I wanted to cry at her tenderness. And at his in return.
“I don’t know what to say,” Bo said.
“You could say thank you ,” I chided.
“Thank you!” he said with feeling. “I’m honored, Geneva. Truly. ”
“You are completely welcome, dear boy.”
Bo looked at Ivy, then stood up and walked over to where I was sitting. “It looks like this little one is done,” he said scooping a sleeping Olivia into his arms, careful to not dangle her cast. “Ivy, how about you help me, and we put them to bed? That okay with you, Camille?”
My sister looked at Bo being so smooth and obvious. “Absolutely, Benjamin,” she said, smiling. “Pajamas are in the top drawer. Thanks.”
If Bo’s request made Ivy uncomfortable, she didn’t show it. In fact, she looked a little complicit as she gathered up Scout and followed Bo off the porch and around the side of the house.
When they were out of earshot, I leaned back and smiled. “Geneva, what does the Universe think about my brother?”
She lifted her brow thoughtfully. “That he’s got a very pure heart and he’s in the process of giving it away.” She winked at me then spooned the last of her Rocky Road into her mouth.
I would love Bo forever if he brought Ivy into my life on a permanent basis, I thought. I sighed at the possibility, and it struck me as almost otherworldly that we were all here together in Savannah, Georgia, on this porch talking about my brother’s pure but disabled heart…and Bree’s jewelry. Geneva put her empty ice cream carton down and folded her arms. “What about you, Miss Mia? Who has your heart?”
I smiled, but for some reason tears pricked in my eyes. “A soldier,” I said, wistfully. “A gorgeous, kind Marine named Derek. Derek Lehman.”
“You love him.”
“I do. I love him so much. I didn’t mean to, but I am one hundred percent smitten.” I pulled up the photos on my phone and found my favorite of the two of us together, then handed my phone to Geneva. It was a shot of Derek hugging me from behind, his cheek resting against mine. We had matching smiles .
“Oh my,” she said, taking the phone. “He is impressive, and clearly he belongs to you.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes.”
“So…does the Universe think we’ll to end up together?”
Geneva laughed and handed me back my phone. “I certainly hope so, Mia, because I’m pretty sure I just caught a glimpse of your children in that photo.”
I gasped. “What? Really?”
“Hundred percent, sug. Hundred percent.”