Chapter 36
thirty-six
HUDSON
“Where have you been?” Asher asks as I walk into the living room, Ayda at my side. My daughter’s knees and hands are covered in sand from helping me find stones.
“Out for a walk. I told you.”
“At this time?” He looks skeptical. “Hey kid, you need a shower,” he says to Ayda, who’s somehow managed to get sand in her hair too.
I tip my head to look at him. “When are you going home?” I ask him. “Not that it’s not a pleasure to have you here.”
He smirks at me. “Not sure yet. Thought I’d hang around and watch the fun.”
“What fun are you watching?” I ask. “Another cartoon on your TikTok feed?”
His grin widens. “Nope. I’m talking about my brother finally learning to grovel.”
“I’m assuming you don’t mean Wyatt.”
He smiles. “Man, I’m loving it. You’re so transparent. Do you think I don’t know that it was you who wrote those song lyrics on the sand with rocks yesterday? They’re the talk of the town.”
I shrug. I don’t care what he knows. “Even if you don’t have work to do, I do. I’m gonna take Ayda for a shower and then grab one myself.” I put a coffee pod in the machine, because after an early start like this, I need as much caffeine as I can get. “What are your plans today?” I ask. “Looking at flights back home?”
“You trying to get rid of me, bro?”
“I just don’t want to stand in the way of you and your career.”
The smile almost slips from his face. And I know there’s more to his prolonged visit than meets the eye. But like me, Asher learned from an early age to keep his cards close to his chest.
And I can’t solve everybody’s problems. I’m taking Dr. Methi’s words to heart. Asher is a grown up, let him sort himself out.
I have my own life to get back on track.
That’s why, after some morning meetings and another visit with Ayda’s speech therapist, I pack us both up in the car and drive over to the lighthouse. I park on the gravel road that leads up to it, next to Autumn’s car, and once Ayda is out of her car seat we both walk up to the door.
“Okay, I need to do a bit of groveling to Aunt Autumn. You got my back?”
She nods, though I can tell she has no idea what I’m talking about. I rap the brass knocker on the huge oak door, and a minute later Autumn opens it.
“Hi.” Her voice is wary. Then she sees Ayda and a huge smile breaks out on her face. “Hello sweetie,” she says, hunkering down to hug her niece. “I hear you’ve been talking.”
Ayda shrugs. She hasn’t said anything more yet, but the speech therapist told me to give it time. She thinks it’ll happen very soon.
“Come inside,” Autumn says. “Parker is feeling better now. He’s in the kitchen, if you point at the cookie jar he’ll know what to do.”
Ayda does as she’s told, skipping through the door and into the main living area. The kitchen is at the back, in an extension to the lighthouse. Autumn designed the entire interior, and it’s pretty impressive.
“So,” she says, folding her arms over her chest, looking at me expectantly.
“So.” I swallow. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
To be honest, I’m not exactly sure. “For upsetting your friend.”
Her eyes light up. “Have you told her that?”
“I have. But not enough. And not nearly for long enough.” I take a deep breath. “That’s why I’m here. I need your help to win her back.”
If there’s one thing I know about Autumn, it’s that she likes to get involved. And she loves to help.
“I really, really need it,” I say, because I know she’s going to revel in this. “And I’d be so appreciative if you could.”
“Will you owe me?” she asks, trying not to grin.
“Big time.”
“Excellent. And you’ll actually listen to me for once? Because if we’re doing this, we’re doing it my way.”
I clear my throat. “I may have already started, but yes, of course I’ll listen. That’s why I’m here. I need a woman’s perspective.”
“How have you started?” she asks, narrowing her eyes. I tell her about the lyrics in the sand. When I describe them her eyes sparkle.
“You’re an old romantic at heart.”
I clear my throat. “I’m trying. So are you going to invite me in, or am I on my own here?”
“Of course you’re coming in.” She grabs my hand and practically yanks me through the front door. “Parker, we’re gonna need coffee, and lots of it,” she calls out. “We’re making plans.”
* * *
SKYLER
On Saturday morning there’s a new sentence on the sand.
You Are Fearless. You Are Graceful. You Are Love.
It’s like an old fashioned text without a reply button.
But maybe, just maybe, this is what I need. Time to absorb, time to work out what I want.
Time to come to terms with the fact that I think the man I love is wooing me.
I grab my coat and head up to Mylene’s for a palatable coffee. The shop is quiet when I walk in. The tourists aren’t up yet, and since it’s a Saturday the support staff are probably still in bed too. Life on Liberty only seems to come alive at lunchtime over the weekends.
“Your usual?” Mylene asks. It’s only been my usual for a few days, but I nod anyway. She didn’t blink when I told her I had to drink decaf for medical reasons.
I’m starting to think she knows everything that goes on in this island before anybody else does. Her and Eileen.
“Are you coming to Karaoke tonight?” I ask her.
“That’s the plan,” she says. “The other one can’t sing, so I’m hoping she’s not there.”
“Eileen, you mean?”
She wrinkles her nose at my words.
I open my mouth to ask her why they can’t just let bygones be bygones. But then I realize it’s none of my business.
One day I’ll find out the answer. But for now, I have my own problems to think about. I don’t need to take on hers.
“How are you feeling?” I turn to see Jesse pulling out a chair beside me.
“I’m fine. The same way I was last night when you asked.”
“Just checking.” He looks at my stomach. “Uncle’s privileges.” He leans on the counter. “So…”
“So?” I repeat, lifting a brow.
“You told him yet?”
I tip my head to the side. “Has Lee been talking to you?”
“She might have called to ask me how you were doing. Like really doing.”
“I’m not sure I like the two of you ganging up on me.”
He shrugs. “Hey, that’s what families do. So we need to talk about song choices tonight. Have you chosen what you’re singing.”
“Yes. Have you?”
“I have.” He narrows his eyes. “Are we going to divulge? Make sure we haven’t chosen the same track?”
I narrow mine back. “Are you afraid of a little competition?” Not that he should be.
He laughs. “Nope, I love it. Do you know if Hudson knows about it yet?”
“I have no idea,” I say lightly. He still hasn’t been near the bar.
“I hope he hates it.”
“No you don’t.”
“I do.” He grins.
“By the way, Mylene is coming to Karaoke,” I say.
He looks over my shoulder at where she’s busy filling the cake stands with pastries. “Hey Mylene,” he shouts out. “What are you planning on singing at Karaoke?”
“‘Lyin’ Eyes’ by the Eagles,” she replies.
“Nice choice.” He leans forward to me. “She’ll be hoping that one gets back to Eileen.”
I sigh. “What if she shows up too?”
“She won’t. They have an unspoken agreement. Eileen was at the last party which means it’s Mylene’s turn.”
“They both turned up to Ayda’s,” I point out.
“Yeah, but that was a mistake. Mylene got her dates wrong.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “Why are you so worried about Mylene and Eileen anyway?”
“I’m not,” I say. “I’m just trying to learn from them. I have this really annoying sibling…”
He rolls his eyes at me and I grin back at him.
“‘Born to Run’,” he says.
“What?”
“Is that what you’re singing?” he asks. “‘Born to Run’ by Springsteen. It suits you.”
“No.” I shake my head.
“Good.”
“Is that what you’re singing?” I ask.
He mimes zipping his lips and I grin.
Because that’s totally what he’s singing. And he’ll be excellent at it.
I, on the other hand, will need all the help I can get.
* * *
You Are Fearless. You Are Graceful. You Are Love.
I look at the words for one last time before the sun sets. I have a feeling they’ll be gone in the morning. Maybe I should have taken a photograph, but it’s too late now.
I know they’re all paraphrased from some of my favorite songs. He’s been listening to them. The thought sends a shiver down my spine.
The Karaoke party is well and truly underway. Right now somebody is absolutely strangling their version of “Mamma Mia”, but nobody seems to mind. The bar is full of people dancing – so many of them dressed in seventies costumes. More than a few of them are authentic – probably stolen from their parents or grandparent’s closets.
“You’re up next,” Jesse tells me. He put himself on last, mostly because he doesn’t want to put everybody off. We all know he’s the best at singing on Liberty.
“Okay.” I nod.
“I saw the song choice,” he says. “Nice.”
“Thank you. You sure you don’t want to sing with me?”
“And have everybody know you’re the talented one in the family?” he teases. “No thank you.”
“Mamma Mia” finishes and I hear my name being called. Autumn is behind the bar and she squeals with excitement as I walk to the stage in the corner.
“Hi everybody,” I say and there’s a loud cheer from the crowd. I look at the DJ in charge of the karaoke machine and nod. He puts the lyrics on the screen in front of me and the music starts. I take a deep breath, readying myself for embarrassment.
And then he walks in and I feel tingles all up and down my body. Our eyes catch, and my mouth twitches when I realize what he’s wearing.
Hudson Fitzgerald, the grumpy, uptight businessman who loves control isn’t wearing his usual designer suit and sharp tie. Instead he’s wearing a pair of flared jeans, tight at the hips, stupidly wide at the ankles. And a shirt so tight I can see everything, as can every other woman in the room because they’re all staring at him.
He’s also wearing a wig and a beard. He looks like he just got in from the seventies.
“Oh my God,” somebody whispers.
I start to smile, but then the ball lands on the first word and I have to sing.
I don’t know why I chose this one. It just felt right. Maybe part of me always knew that Hudson would walk in at the right minute. The first line of “You Make Loving Fun” – this one written by Christine McVie – tumbles out of my lips as I sing how sweet and wonderful he is.
And yes, I’m looking straight at him as I sing. I hit a bum note at the end and he grins.
I don’t know how I get through the entire song, but somehow I do. And when I finish on a high, telling him how he makes loving fun, everybody claps and cheers, even though I’m probably one of the worst singers here.
He’s waiting for me when I clamber down from the stage.
“Nice outfit,” I tell him.
“I’m trying something new,” he replies solemnly.
“It suits you.” My lips twitch because he looks so stupidly uncomfortable it’s not funny. “Lindsey Buckingham?” I ask.
“How did you know?”
“It’s the beard. And the wig.”
He touches the curls on his head.
“Next up we have Hudson Fitzgerald,” the DJ calls out.
“You’re singing?” I ask him. “Seriously?”
“Gotta go,” he tells me. “Stay right there.”
I’m not sure I could move if I tried. Hudson Fitzgerald is about to sing karaoke and I’m pretty sure that must mean the world is ending. He strides onto the stage, flares flapping, and takes the mic.
“This one is for Skyler. Always,” he says, then the music starts and I am frozen still.
I know what song it is as soon as the first note hits. It’s a Billy Joel song. “Just the Way You Are”. Hudson leans into the mic and starts singing straight at me, telling me not to change.
I blink at the thick sweetness of his voice. Like honey dripping from a spoon. He can sing? Why didn’t I know he could sing?
“He’s been practicing this for two days,” Autumn whispers in my ear. “I now officially hate this song.”
“I now officially love it,” I whisper.
His eyes are still trained on my face as he sings that he loves me just the way I am.
Oh god, I’m going to cry.
He’s so damn heartfelt as he gets to the chorus, like he means every word. And as he gets to the end, singing that he just wants somebody to talk to, I put my hand on my chest to still my damn beating heart.
There’s a roar as he comes to the end. I’m screaming along with them, because he was that good. I look over at Jesse and he lifts a brow.
And then Hudson’s in front of me, smiling and I’m smiling back.
“Can I take the fucking wig off now?” he asks and I start to laugh like I’m on the edge, probably because I am.
“Yes.” I nod. “Yes, you can.”
“And will you take a walk with me?” he asks, holding his hand out.
I take it, our palms pressing together as we walk out of the bar. The deck is as packed as the inside of the bar, and we have to push our way through a crowd of people to make it to the beach. It’s dark and cool, and I start to shiver.
“This is why I should be wearing a suit,” he says. “I could have given you my jacket.” He looks down. “Do you want my shirt?”
“I’m so tempted to say yes.”
He laughs softly. “Say the word and it’s yours.” He reaches out to stroke my cheek, his fingers warm against my skin. “I want you back. I’ll do whatever it takes to win you back. I’ll sing a billion more karaoke songs, dress up every single day for you.”
“Even more tempted,” I murmur. “The dressing up thing is hot.”
“Is it?” He frowns.
“No. Never do it again.”
This time we both laugh. He takes my hands in his.
“The messages on the beach?” I say. “They were you?”
“Ayda and me. Yes.”
“I liked them,” I tell him.
“Good. That was the plan. I have more.”
“Plans or lyrics?” I clarify.
“Both.”
I take a breath in an attempt to control my heart rate. “Hudson, there’s something I need to tell you. Before you say anything else.”
He turns suddenly serious. “Okay.”
This is it. I feel sick. But he has to know. I square my shoulders and look him straight in the eye. “I’m pregnant.”
Those long lashes sweep down then up again as he looks at me. “Oh thank God.”
“What?” I ask, confused.
“I thought you were going to say you’d never in a million years consider getting back with me.”
“Hudson.” I put my hand on his chest. Damn this material is thin. I can feel the heat of his skin through it. It’s completely distracting. “Did you hear me? I’m pregnant. About eight weeks or so, I think. I haven’t seen a doctor yet, just had the blood test done. Dr. Methi told me. The day Ayda disappeared. I was so shocked and… I got distracted.”
“You’ve known since then?” His brows knit, like the words are finally sinking in.
I nod.
“And you had to carry this all alone?” He looks almost sick. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you had to do that.”
“I think I’m going to keep it.”
“Good.” He nods. “That’s good.”
“Is it? Are you listening to me? I’m pregnant.” I’m beginning to think his brain is addled from the karaoke and wig.
He grins. “I know. You told me. At least three times now. Congratulations.” He pulls me close, holding me.
“Congratulations to you, too,” I whisper. “Are you sure you understand. Are you okay with this?” I don’t think I’ll ever understand this man.
He looks down at me, his expression full of wonder. “Of course I’m okay with it. The question is are you okay with it?”
I nod. “I am. It took me a few days, but… here I am. Not drinking caffeine, taking prenatal vitamins. Trying to work out how to tell you that I missed a birth control pill.”
He starts to laugh and I’m still stupidly confused. “Are you drunk?” I ask him.
“Only on you.”
I start to laugh with him, because this is all so bizarre. And he’s clearly not thinking straight.
“Do you know what Dr. Methi told me the other day?” he asks.
“That your brain doesn’t work properly?”
He grins. “No. He told me something I haven’t stopped thinking about. That my job as a partner is to understand, not to control.” He drops to his knees in front of me, putting his face against my stomach. Kissing it. “We had sex, we made a baby. I don’t just understand, I love it.” He looks up at me. “I love you.”
My throat feels scratchy. “I love you too,” I whisper.
“Take me back,” he says. “Let me understand you. And not control you. Every day. Twice on Sundays.”
I laugh. “Yes. Yes please.”
He pulls me down to the sand, so we’re both kneeling. His hands cup my face, angling it slightly so his lips can press easily against mine. His kiss is soft, sure. And so deep it makes my toes curl.
“You know I kind of like you being controlling sometimes,” I whisper against his mouth. “In bed at least.”
“And out of bed?”
“That’s when I get to be in control.” I grin at him. “Bedless sex, it’s a thing.”
“It is.” He nods solemnly. “And I’m looking forward to the next time we try it out.”
* * *
HUDSON
“Ready?” I ask Ayda, who’s next to me, holding my hand. She looks up at me and nods, her face glowing.
She’s going to be a big sister and she has no idea. And we won’t be telling her yet. But we will when the time is right and we’ve talked it through with Dr. Methi.
I hit send on the message.
Look at the beach. – Hudson x
We got here an hour ago. Luckily most of the pebbles from yesterday were still here, though the ocean made a good try at moving them around. Ayda spent the first twenty minutes piling them all up and making me wait until she chose exactly the ones she wanted to use.
And then I wrote out the words. This time they’re about me.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Last night, after she’d told me about the baby, we spent the next few hours on the beach. I’d found a blanket in my car because she really was shivering by that point, but neither of us wanted to go back to the bar. We walked and talked along the coast.
She told me about the extra pill she’d counted. That she thinks we conceived the baby in New York. I told her that I may have missed the first couple of weeks of her pregnancy, but I’ll be at every damn appointment she has. I’ll make her drinks and food and rub her feet whenever they feel swollen.
“I’m all in. So all in it’s gonna take your breath away,” I told her. And I meant every word.
“So you’re happy? Even though this wasn’t planned and it took us by surprise?”
“So damn happy you wouldn’t believe. I’m all about surprises. And taking life how it comes. Plans are…” I shook my head. “They’re not needed. I like discovering my way with you better.”
The bar door opens and she walks out, wearing a pair of short pajamas and nothing else. Her hair is blowing in the breeze, a dark curtain that dances against her shoulders.
And I love her. I love her. I love her.
She reads the words and puts her hand on her heart, then runs down onto the sand toward us both, a huge grin on her face.
Ayda jumps up and down when she sees her. And when Skyler is almost here, my daughter runs into her arms. Skyler swings her around and Ayda giggles. Out loud . It’s not a word but it’s close.
Every day we’re getting closer.
Then I walk toward them. My girls. The beat of my heart, the reason I breathe.
My life.
I put my arms around them, and Ayda links one arm around my neck, the other still clinging to Skyler.
“Good morning.”
“You’re up early again,” Skyler tells me.
“I’m an early riser.”
“That’s good because I’m a late one. And I need my coffee decaffeinated these days.”
“Already done.” I point at the picnic we made behind us. The same blanket I’d kept her warm with last night is laid out on the sand. On top are pastries and coffees and a hot chocolate for Ayda.
“I was joking,” Skyler laughs. “Kinda.”
Ayda runs over to the blanket and takes another sip of her hot chocolate, kneeling on the cotton. I slide my arm around Skyler’s shoulders and she curls hers around my waist.
And together we watch the sun as she rises up from the ocean to take her place in the sky.