Epilogue #3
“It does.”
We watch together as the sun sinks toward the hills, throwing a long band of gold across the bay. Summer is quiet, which is unusual for her. She’s thinking about something.
“Mama?”
“Yes?”
“Can we live on the boat forever?”
I smile. “We’d miss our house. And your school. And Bunny.”
“Bunny could come.”
“Bunny isn’t the one who has to get to school on Monday.”
Summer considers this. “We could park the boat near school.”
“It would be a very long walk from the harbor.”
She wrinkles her nose. “We can keep the house, then.”
She accepts this with a small sigh, already moving on to her next thought. I can see it forming behind her eyes, the question she’s been working up to.
“Mama?”
“Yes?”
“Can we have a baby?”
The words hang in the air. Valentin turns toward me. We’d talked about another child over the winter, quietly at first, then with enough hope that I stopped being afraid to admit how much I wanted it.
I’ve been carrying this news all day, waiting for the right moment. It turns out my daughter knew exactly when that moment should be.
“Actually,” I say, “we’re going to have one.”
Summer’s eyes go wide. “Really?”
“Really. There’s a baby growing inside me right now.”
“Right now? Like, today?”
“Right now. Today and yesterday and tomorrow. It’s been growing for a little while already.”
She looks at my stomach, as if expecting to see something different. Then she looks at Valentin, who hasn’t said anything yet.
“Daddy?”
“I just found out too,” he says. His voice is rough. “Just now. With you.”
“Is it a good surprise?”
“It’s a very good surprise.”
Summer’s face breaks into a grin so wide I think it might split her cheeks. She throws her arms around my neck, nearly knocking me backward in the chair.
“I’m going to be a big sister!”
“You are.”
“I’m going to teach the baby everything. How to coil rope and how to find the best shells and how to make Bunny talk.”
“The baby will be lucky to have you.”
She pulls back, suddenly serious. “Will the baby need a life jacket?”
“When it’s big enough to come on the boat, yes. A very small one.”
“I can help pick it out.”
“You can absolutely help pick it out.”
She hugs me again, then scrambles over to Valentin, throwing herself into his arms. He catches her, pulling her close, his face buried in her hair. When he looks up at me, his eyes are bright.
“Solenne.”
“I found out this morning. I was going to tell you when we were alone, but this seemed right. Both of you, together.”
“This is right.” He reaches for me with his free arm, pulling me into the embrace. “This is exactly right.”
His hand settles over mine. For a moment he only looks at me, and I remember him waiting on Odette’s porch, trying not to ask for more than I could give him.
Now he has to stop smiling long enough to speak.
“A baby,” he says.
“Yes.”
“Our baby.”
Summer catches his sleeve. “Our baby. Mine too.”
“Yours too, piccola.”
She settles against him, apparently satisfied that this important point has been resolved. Then she asks when the baby will be here.
“Several months,” I tell her.
“So not when we get home?”
“Not when we get home.”
“Good. I have to find the little blanket I used for Bunny.”
I lean into Valentin’s arm. His fingers move once against my shoulder, then stay there.
“I’m going to be there,” he says quietly. “For the ordinary days too. Especially those.”
I think of a wet towel in our kitchen, his hands drying the plates. Summer’s school bag waiting by the door because he remembered the library books. His face across a crowded room, looking for me before anyone asked him to.
“I know,” I say.
He kisses my forehead. I turn toward him and catch his mouth before he can move away.
Summer makes an impatient sound between us. She has been trying to explain where the baby’s blanket should go, and neither of us has answered.
“Tell me again,” Valentin says, settling back to listen.
She does, moving his hand to demonstrate the space she means. He lets her arrange his fingers, solemnly considering a plan that seems to involve Bunny lending the baby most of her belongings.
The breeze lifts the edge of my scarf. Valentin draws it over my shoulder without interrupting her, then settles his arm around us both.
My notebook lies on the table within reach, Monday’s pages tucked safely inside. Beyond it, the coast is turning soft and blue. We have a flight back to Los Angeles at the end of the week, a school bag to unpack, work waiting for both of us.
For now, I tuck my feet beneath me and make myself comfortable.
Summer rests her palm over mine, against the small secret that is no longer only mine.
“The baby too,” she says.
“The baby too,” Valentin agrees.
In the darkening glass of the cabin door, I catch our reflection. Summer curled against my side. Valentin bent close to hear her. Our hands resting together over the child we haven’t met.
I lean into him, and the last light finds us together.
THE END