Chapter 27
They walked together to the old maple in the front yard, the one Christopher used to climb when he was a boy. The others stayed by the porch, giving them space.
Maggie watched as they stood facing each other under the bare branches, and even from a distance, she could see the weight of the moment in their postures. She turned away, giving them privacy.
Under the maple tree, Christopher looked at his little sister and tried to find the words.
“So,” he said.
“So,” Beth echoed.
“This is weird.”
“Very weird.”
They stood in silence for a moment, the March wind stirring the bare branches above them. Beth pulled her jacket tighter around herself, and Christopher resisted the urge to give her his, the way he had when they were children and she had forgotten hers.
“Remember when you used to follow me everywhere?” he said. “You were like a little shadow. Drove me crazy.”
“You loved it.”
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did. You used to slow down so I could keep up. You thought I didn't notice, but I did.”
Christopher smiled despite himself. “You had short legs. Someone had to accommodate.”
“My legs were proportional to my body.”
“Your legs were tiny. Like a little elf.”
“I was seven.”
“A tiny seven-year-old elf who wouldn't leave me alone.”
Beth laughed, but there was something underneath it, something that wavered. “I just wanted to be wherever you were. You made everything feel safe.”
The words hung in the air between them, heavier than the teasing that had preceded them. Christopher felt something shift in his chest.
“Beth…”
“No, let me say this.” She took a breath. “When you went overseas, I was terrified. Every day. Every single day, I was scared that something would happen to you and I wouldn't be there. I wouldn't be able to help. I wouldn't be able to do anything except get a phone call and fall apart.”
“You never told me that.”
“Of course I didn't. You had enough to worry about.” She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.
“And then you came home, and you were broken, and I still couldn't help.
I could write you letters and make you laugh and sit with you on your bad days, but I couldn't fix it. I couldn't make it better.”
“You did make it better. You came to Captiva and made me feel better. You made it survivable.”
“That's not the same thing as healing you.”
“It's exactly the same thing.” Christopher reached out and took her hand, the way he had when they were children crossing the street together.
“You want to know what got me through? Over there, and when I came back?
It wasn't therapy. It wasn't medication. It was knowing that somewhere in the world, my little sister was writing me letters about absolutely nothing. About the weather and the neighbors and what she had for lunch. Normal things. Small things. Things that reminded me that life was still happening, even when I felt like mine had stopped.”
Beth's tears were falling freely now. “I didn't know what else to do.”
“You did exactly right. You always have.” He squeezed her hand. “And now you have two babies who are going to need exactly that. Someone who shows up. Someone who makes the ordinary things feel important. That's what you do, Beth. That's your superpower.”
She laughed through her tears. “My superpower is writing boring letters?”
“Your superpower is making people feel seen. Making them feel like they matter.” He pulled her into a hug, holding her tight. “Those twins are lucky. Gabriel's lucky. I'm lucky.”
“You're moving fifteen hundred miles away.”
“I'm moving to the same island where Mom lives. You can visit anytime.”
“With two newborns?”
“Okay, maybe not next week. But soon.” He released her and stepped back, keeping hold of her shoulders.
“This isn't goodbye. You know that, right?
This is just the next chapter. We're still us.
We're still going to talk every week and argue about stupid things and send each other memes that nobody else thinks are funny.”
“Your meme game has really declined since Eloise was born.”
“I'm a tired father. Cut me some slack.”
“Never.” Beth smiled, wobbly but real. “I'm going to hold you to an impossibly high standard forever.”
“I wouldn't expect anything less.”
They stood for another moment under the maple tree, the house rising behind them. Two siblings who had grown up together, who had protected and annoyed and loved each other in equal measure, who were now building separate lives that would always be connected.
“Hey,” Beth said softly. “Remember what you said last night? About home being people, not places?”
“Yeah.”
“You're my home, Chris. You always have been. No matter where either of us lives.”
Christopher felt his throat tighten. “You're going to make me cry in front of everyone.”
“Good. It's character building.”
“I hate you.”
“You love me.”
“Same thing.”
He pulled her into one more hug, fierce and brief, and then released her.
“You’re my best friend, Chris. I’m going to miss my best friend every single day.”
He put his hand on her cheek. “I’ll always be your best friend, Bethy. Now, go back to your babies. Tell Gabriel I said to take care of you, or I'll drive back up here and make his life difficult.”
“He knows. I remind him daily.”
“That's my girl.”
They walked back toward the family together. Beth hugged Becca and kissed Eloise's cheek, then stepped back to stand with the others.
The goodbyes began, though they felt different than Maggie had expected.
Christopher and Becca weren't disappearing to some distant place.
They were heading to Captiva, to the same island where Maggie and Paolo lived, where Chelsea and her husband lived, where Sunday dinners and spontaneous visits would become part of their new normal.
Michael stepped forward and pulled his brother into a hug, longer than their usual brief embraces.
“Take care of yourself,” Michael said gruffly. “And that family of yours.”
“You, too. Give Brea and the kids a hug from me. And we expect you down for a visit once we're settled.”
“Brea's already planning it. You know how she is.”
Lauren hugged Christopher and then Becca. “Drive safe. Text us when you stop for the night.”
“We will,” Becca promised.
“And don't let him eat gas station food the whole way,” Lauren added. “He'll do it if you let him.”
“I'm standing right here,” Christopher said.
“I know. That's why I'm telling her.”
Sarah hugged them both, murmuring something in Christopher's ear that made him laugh and shake his head. Grandma Sarah demanded a kiss on the cheek and told Becca to make sure Christopher ate enough protein because he was looking thin.
“I'm not thin,” Christopher protested.
“You're thin. You need protein. Listen to your grandmother.”
Chelsea hugged them both warmly. “I expect an invitation to the housewarming party. Even if the house isn't warmed yet.”
“You'll be one of the first through the door,” Christopher said. “Assuming the door is still attached.”
“That bad?”
“Let's just say it has character. Don’t be surprised if we call your husband for help.”
“Character is good. Character means potential. You know where we live. Just give us a call or, even better, stop by.”
Maggie was last. She held her son for a long moment, but the goodbye felt lighter than she had anticipated. This wasn't like sending him off to war, not knowing when or if she would see him again. This was sending him home. Her home. Their home now.
“I'm proud of you,” she said. “Every day. Every version of you.”
“Even the version that threw a baseball through the neighbor's window?”
“Even that one. Though I'm still not happy about the forty-seven lawns you had to mow to pay for it.”
Christopher laughed and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Mom. I'll see you in a few days.”
“Drive safe. And call me when you stop for the night.”
“You'll be in the RV. You might not have signal.”
“Then I'll call you back when I do. Just let me know you're safe.”
“I will. I promise.”
He hugged her once more, then stepped back. “This is strange, isn't it? Saying goodbye at this house, knowing we'll see each other on Captiva in less than a week.”
“Strange,” Maggie agreed. “But good, strange. The best kind of strange.”
Christopher did one final walk-through of the empty house, checking that nothing had been left behind. Then he climbed into the car, Becca already buckled in with Eloise babbling in her car seat and pulled out of the driveway.
The family waved from the yard until the car turned the corner and disappeared from sight.
Beth wiped her eyes. “I should get back to the farm. Gabriel's probably ready to hand me the twins and run for the hills.”
“You're okay to drive?” Maggie asked.
“I'm fine. Emily's waiting for me. She said she'd have lunch ready.” Beth hugged her mother, then each of her sisters, then Grandma Sarah and Chelsea. “Drive safe, all of you. And Mom, call me when you get to Florida.”
“I will.”
“I mean it. Don't make me worry.”
“When have I ever made you worry?”
“Do you want the list alphabetically or chronologically?”
Beth climbed into her car and backed out of the driveway, waving once before she disappeared down the street.
Lauren turned to Michael. “Before you go, can I ask a favor? I'd like to stop by my old office. See Nell and Brian. I won't be long.”
“Sure,” Michael said. “I've got time.”
“You don't mind waiting?”
“I'll grab a coffee somewhere. Take as long as you need.”
Lauren looked at Maggie. “I want to tell them about the house listing in person. Make sure they know what's happening. And honestly, I just want to see the place one more time.”
“Of course,” Maggie said. “Go. We'll be here when you get back.”
Lauren grabbed her purse and climbed into Michael's SUV. They pulled away from the curb, leaving the four women standing in front of the empty house.
“Well,” Grandma Sarah said, surveying the group. “We've got one more night here. I suggest we make the most of it.”
“What did you have in mind?” Chelsea asked.
“Pizza. Wine. And stories about this house that Maggie has never told anyone.”
“I've told you everything, Mother.”
“You most certainly have not. I know there are secrets in this house. There are always secrets.”
“The only secrets in this house are the ones you're imagining.”
“We'll see about that.”