Chapter 19 #3
Tessa’s mouth twitched, and for a second Lacey thought she might actually laugh.
“No,” she said. “She’s…gone.”
She didn’t say it dramatically, just flat and factual.
“Gone…where?”
Tessa crossed the room and folded into the chair across from Lacey, dropping her bag at her feet like she didn’t care where it landed. She braced her elbows on the table and leaned forward, scrubbing her face with both hands.
“With her mother,” she said.
“Oh, okay. I think. You don’t look great, Tess.”
“I am a wreck,” she murmured, her face in her hands. “Just so you know. Absolute, full-blown mess.”
Lacey stared at her, the Gilson anniversary event disappearing entirely from her brain.
“I mean—I knew you liked her, but…” Lacey proceeded carefully. “I thought it was just a babysitting thing.”
Tessa dropped her hands and looked up, eyes tired and unguarded. “So did I.” She let out a breath that sounded like it had been stuck in her chest for days. “It was supposed to be that. Temporary. It was my brilliant idea to help Dusty’s struggling patient.”
“And…”
“And then somehow, without me noticing when it happened, she became…mine.”
Lacey felt something in her chest tilt. “Yours? How?”
“I have no clue.” Tessa laughed, short and humorless. “But I knew her routines—no, no. I created her routines. I read to her, bathed her, shell-hunted with her. I knew her tastes, her cares, her fears, her little…soul.” She let out a grunt. “And it hurt to let her go.”
Lacey didn’t know what to say to that. She’d never seen Tessa this stripped of polish or humor.
“How did that happen?” Lacey asked quietly.
Tessa stared at the table, fingers tracing an invisible line in the wood.
“I don’t know,” she said. “That’s the thing. I don’t know when it crossed from a favor to…love. It just did.”
She looked up then, gaze locking onto Lacey’s face with an intensity that made her sit back slightly.
“Listen to me,” Tessa said. “And I know you didn’t ask for this advice, but I’m giving it to you anyway.”
Lacey blinked. “Okay…”
“Do not make the mistakes I’ve made,” Tessa said, her voice sharp and urgent. “Do not convince yourself that freedom is the same thing as fulfillment. Or that fun matters more than meaning. Or that work will hold you when everything else falls apart.”
Lacey opened her mouth, then closed it again.
Tessa barreled on. “I built a great life. I did. I traveled. I had a very successful and fun career. I had control. And it all felt impressive and shiny and safe until suddenly it didn’t.”
Lacey didn’t speak, but stared at her friend and mentor, who pressed her hand to her chest as if it hurt.
“And then a two-year-old with a weakness for blueberries and kind kangaroos looked at me like I was her everything, and my whole life suddenly rearranged itself.”
Footsteps on the stairs made Lacey look to her right and she spotted her mother coming down. Vivien paused on the threshold, taking in the scene. “Am I interrupting?”
“No,” Tessa said, waving her over. “Sit down.”
Vivien hesitated, then came closer and took a chair at the table, concern etching her brow.
“Everything okay? You got up early, Lace.”
“Tessa is, um, talking about something,” she said, not answering her mother’s question. “Go on, Tess.”
“Life is short,” she said, obviously needing no more encouragement than that. “I know that sounds like a bumper sticker, but it’s true. Family matters. Fun doesn’t matter. Work doesn’t matter—not the way we pretend it does when we’re using it to avoid something else.”
Lacey felt her pulse start to climb, her body reacting before her mind caught up.
“Fall in love,” Tessa said. “I know it sounds simple, but it’s not. But I’m telling you, Lacey Knight—fall in love.”
She already had.
“And then—honestly, I don’t care if this flies in the face of feminism—have babies if you want them. A few! A lot! Raise them yourself. Be there. Do not wait for perfect timing or the perfect version of yourself or for the stars to line up. Create a family!”
Lacey didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so she turned to her mother.
Vivien cleared her throat softly.
“I mean—” She gave a small, wry smile. “I’m divorced, so I’m not exactly a poster child for perfect decisions. But I will say this—having a family, even one as small and broken as ours, was a highlight of my life.”
The stairs creaked again, and Eli appeared in a T-shirt and shorts, a coffee cup in one hand, his Bible in the other.
“What’s happening?” he asked.
“Group intervention,” Tessa said. “You’re welcome to join.”
“I was going to sit outside and read, but…” He came to the table, placed his book and cup down, then took a seat. “This sounds just as holy.”
“If you mean, holy moly, Tessa’s on a roll, yeah,” Lacey joked.
“About?”
“About the importance of getting married and having kids,” she said.
“Well, that’s biblical.” Eli put his hand on the leather cover. “It’s on most every page, starting with Genesis. ‘Be fruitful and multiply,’” he said, then glanced around at the three women. “Has one of you…multiplied?”
They laughed. Well, Vivien and Lacey laughed. Tessa looked like he’d kicked her.
“No!” she exclaimed. “And that’s the problem.”
Before anyone could respond, footsteps thundered on the stairs that came up from the first level, followed by Jonah’s voice singing, “You are my sunshine, who slept all night long…”
Atlas cooed as if on cue.
Jonah appeared at the top of the stairs with Atlas strapped to his chest, facing out, wide-eyed and smiling, cheeks impossibly round in the morning light.
Lacey’s heart did something painful and sudden.
Jonah grinned at the room, shaking back his long hair. “If anyone needs proof that life is chaos and magic at the same time, I give you Atlas Lawson—sleeper and superstar!”
Eli laughed, standing up. “Give me my grandson!” he demanded, extracting Atlas from the carrier with ease. “Hello, handsome!”
“What’s the powwow about?” Jonah asked, loping to the table and looking at them. “Would a nice onion and cheese frittata help save the world? ’Cause my kid slept all night and I’m in the mood to cook.”
Suddenly, the room felt full and alive and vibrating with love. Even Tessa perked up and they were all talking, all meaning well, all completely unaware of the weight pressing down on Lacey’s chest.
Because they didn’t know Roman had been on one knee in the sunset. They didn’t know she had said not yet. They didn’t know he was leaving today.
They didn’t know that she might have tossed the chance for the very thing they were so wildly singing about this morning.
But she did and she—
A hard knock on the front door stole all their attention.
Roman! Lacey practically leaped from her chair, knowing deep in her heart that he’d had the same sleepless night and he was back to ask again and this time—
“Anyone home?” a gruff voice from outside demanded.
With a punch of disappointment, she opened the door to see Seamus Donahue, the weathered old fisherman, holding the football she’d dropped off last night at the marina on her way home.
“Seamus? Is something—”
He powered by her. “Tessa! Are you here?” he called. “Oh, you’re all here. Well, good, ’cause I have something to say.”
“Join the crowd,” Eli replied, coming closer with Atlas. “Look at my handsome grandson.”
“I can’t look at anything but this.” He lifted the football the way Jonah had lifted Atlas.
“Oh, the whole team signed it!” Tessa smiled for the first time since she’d walked in. “I love that boy.”
“You better!” Seamus said, letting Jonah take the football to examine it. “I know you didn’t raise him, Tessa—I learned that the hard way when I walked into a pile of…not my business.”
They all laughed at the memory of how Seamus took one look at Roman and saw Artie Wylie, and they’d all missed it. Not Lacey, but she knew that Roman was the baby Tessa had given up for adoption.
“It’s a great donation,” Tessa said. “You didn’t have to come all the way—”
“Oh, yes, I did! This is going up for auction tonight and I…I just had to…” He looked around, his voice cracking. “Is he here?”
“Roman?” Lacey asked. “No, he’s home or…” On his way to Jacksonville, she added glumly in her head.
“Then I’ll tell you, since he’s your boyfriend and”—he turned to Tessa—“your son.”
“What?” they asked in unison.
“Did you look in this envelope?” He pulled out the white paper from his jacket.
“That’s the official certification,” Lacey said. “To prove the autographs are real.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, but it’s also…” He pulled out a sheet of paper from the envelope, snapped it open and cleared his throat.
“‘The Arthur Wylie Memorial Youth Fishing Scholarship to cover gear, rods, tackle, payment for charter fishing days, and one annual Artie Day Fishing Tournament for underprivileged children.’ Fully funded for five years by an anonymous NFL player who also agreed to give the scholarship winner private fishing lessons for the next five summers.”
For a moment, no one spoke. Then Atlas let out a squawk, but it wasn’t loud enough to erase the echo of the last few words. They hung in the air like…like the answer Lacey had been so desperately seeking.
With one quiet and meaningful gesture, Roman showed exactly who he was. Not just a great guy with talent and good looks, not just the dreamboat she’d fallen in love with this summer, and not just someone temporary looking for companionship for the season.
He understood the concept of family, of legacy, of permanence and personal commitment. Could it be any more obvious?
As she stood there and they started to react, Lacey searched the room, her gaze landing on her mother first, then Tessa. The two of them were looking hard at her, with matching expressions that stated the obvious: You know what to do, Lace.
She nodded as if they’d spoken out loud.
What in the heck was she thinking? Not yet? Was she out of her mind?
“I have to go,” she said.
Tessa blinked. “Go where?”
“To answer a very important question Roman asked me yesterday.”
That silenced everyone—including Atlas.
Lacey grabbed her purse from the entryway and yanked open the front door the very moment a sleek and familiar Porsche rolled into the driveway, stopping her in her tracks.
Roman.
She bolted out, running into the driveway as he stopped. He climbed out of the sports car, confusion flickering across his face as Lacey dropped her bag and every doubt she ever had and ran to him, arms outstretched.
“Roman! Roman!”
He blinked in surprise but scooped her up when she crossed the driveway and launched herself at him, arms wrapped around his neck, legs around his waist.
“Yes,” she said, breathless and laughing and crying all at once. “Yes, yes, yes!”
Roman laughed, stunned, arms catching her automatically as he spun them once before setting her down. “Lace—”
“Yes,” she repeated, pressing her forehead to his. “I’m terrified and I’m sure and I love you and I’m done pretending I don’t know what matters. I will marry you, Roman Matteo. I will happily and joyfully marry you!”
Lowering her to the ground, he inched back, and for one horrifying second she thought he was going to say he’d changed his mind.
Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulled out the ring box, and dropped to one knee again right there in the driveway.
“Yes,” she said, tears streaming before he got a word out. “A thousand times, yes.”
He slid the ring onto her finger, stood, kissed her deeply. Her heart thumped, her lungs squeezed, and somewhere behind her, she heard the noisiest cheer from her family on the porch.
Seamus hooted like a fan in the stands and Tessa screamed at the top of her lungs.
When Roman lifted her and twirled her in the air, Lacey just dropped her head back and soaked up the best moment of her life.