Chapter 20
HOLLY
The sun felt amazing on my face as Uncle Drew guided the boat into "our" sheltered cove.
I leaned back against the cushioned seat, watching the ripples spread out behind us.
This was nothing like the crowded public beaches I'd been to before—this was private, peaceful, just the three of us and the endless blue stretching in every direction.
"This is my favorite spot," Aunt Elyse said, unpacking the cooler she'd stocked with enough food to feed us for a week, not just an afternoon. "The water's always calm here, and sometimes you can see dolphins."
"Dolphins?" I perked up, scanning the horizon. "Here?"
"If we're lucky," Uncle Drew confirmed, dropping anchor with practiced ease. "No guarantees, but they do seem to like this area."
I peered into the crystal-clear water below us. No dolphins yet, but I could see all the way to the sandy bottom, where small fish darted between patches of seagrass.
Once the boat was secured, Aunt Elyse laid out lunch on the center table. Sandwiches, fruit, chips, and of course cookies from Jenna's bakery. We settled around the table, the boat gently rocking beneath us.
"This was a good idea," I said, taking a bite of my sandwich.
I'd been in a mood all week after overhearing that conversation about my mom, withdrawing into myself the way I always did when things got overwhelming.
But instead of giving me space by ignoring me—the way most adults did—Aunt Elyse and Uncle Drew had given me space by literally creating it, bringing me out here where I could breathe.
"We thought you might enjoy a change of scenery," Uncle Drew said casually, but I caught the look he exchanged with Aunt Elyse. They were worried about me. Not in an annoying, hovering way, but in a way that felt... I don't know. Caring.
After lunch, I slipped into the water, letting the salt buoyancy support me as I floated on my back.
The sun warmed my face while the water cooled my body.
.. the perfect contrast. I closed my eyes, letting myself drift, anchored only by the sounds of Aunt Elyse and Uncle Drew's quiet conversation from the boat.
They thought I couldn't hear them, but sound carried over water. They were talking about me, about what they'd brought up the night before, and about the adoption idea they'd been floating lately. About whether I was ready for that conversation yet.
The adoption idea. It still felt surreal, like something that happened in movies but not in real life. Not in my life, anyway.
I flipped over and began swimming in lazy circles around the boat, my thoughts churning like the small wake I created.
If my mom really did terminate her rights, would I want Aunt Elyse and Uncle Drew to adopt me? To officially, legally become their daughter?
The question had been hovering in the background of my mind since that day at the park with Paige and Ben. I'd been too scared to examine it directly, afraid of what I might feel. Afraid of what it meant about my mom, about me, about the future.
But out here, with the endless sky above and the clear water below, the question didn't seem so terrifying.
I ducked under the surface, letting the cool water envelop me completely, muffling all sound. In that suspended moment, a clarity I hadn't felt before washed over me.
I wanted this. Not just the temporary sanctuary they'd provided, but the permanence they were offering. I wanted to belong to them—to be their daughter, not just their niece they'd taken in during a crisis.
The realization should have felt like a betrayal of my mother.
But strangely, it didn't. Maybe because deep down, I knew my mom had been slipping away from me for years, long before she physically disappeared.
Maybe because loving Aunt Elyse and Uncle Drew didn't mean I had to stop loving my mom, complicated as that love might be.
I surfaced, gulping air, and saw Uncle Drew watching me from the boat with a slightly concerned expression.
"You okay out there?" he called.
I waved, treading water. "Yeah! Just seeing how long I could hold my breath."
"Want to help drive again on the way back?" he offered. "The water's perfect for learning."
My heart gave a little jump of excitement. "Really? I can drive again?"
"Absolutely," he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to trust me with something so valuable. "Come on up when you're ready."
I swam back to the boat, hauling myself up the small ladder at the stern. Aunt Elyse handed me a towel, and I wrapped it around my shoulders, suddenly feeling shy about the thoughts I'd been having underwater.
"Thanks," I mumbled.
"For the towel, or for the day?" she asked, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
"Both, I guess." I hesitated, then added, "For everything, really."
Something in my tone must have caught her attention, because her expression softened. "You never need to thank us for that, Holly. Having you with us... it's not a burden. It's a gift."
A gift. Not an obligation. Not a duty. A gift.
Uncle Drew came over, ruffling my wet hair. "Ready for your second boating lesson, captain?"
I nodded, unable to speak past the sudden lump in my throat.
As we packed up our things and prepared to head back, I watched Aunt Elyse and Uncle Drew move around each other with the easy synchronicity of people who truly knew and loved each other.
There was no tension, no walking on eggshells, no undercurrent of resentment that I'd grown so used to detecting in adults.
They were just... happy. Together. And somehow, miraculously, they seemed happier with me there too.
When we were ready to go, Uncle Drew called me over to the driver's seat and began quizzing me on the controls.
His hand steady on my shoulder, his voice patient as he listened as I walked him verbally through each step.
Aunt Elyse watched from her seat, sunglasses pushed up on her head, her smile encouraging when I glanced back nervously.
As I carefully guided the boat out of the cove under Uncle Drew's supervision, a strange feeling settled over me—strange because of how unfamiliar it was.
Peace. I felt at peace.
Not just temporary relief from chaos, not just the absence of immediate threat. Actual peace. Like maybe, just maybe, this was where I was supposed to be all along.
Like maybe, just maybe, I'd found my way home.