Epilogue - Isabelle
Four Years Later
My favourite time of year is when the buttercups in our garden bloom.
Warmth spreads in my chest when I spot the little bucket and spade left next to one of the garden beds.
Gage has been gardening with the girls today; these little moments he’s been soaking up more lately since Briony starts kindergarten next year.
I’m not sure my husband will know what to do with himself during the day once he loses one of his sidekicks.
My hand instinctively goes to my stomach, where baby number three is growing steady.
We found out last week we’re having another little girl.
Briony was so excited to start teaching Isla all the things you have to do as a big sister.
I head inside, the delicious smell of my husband’s cooking already filling the air. Homemade beans and salsa sit simmering in a pot. There’s a bowl of mashed avocado on the bench and a box of taco shells.
Gage is sitting at the dining table, Isla on his lap and Briony beside them. Papers and colouring pencils are spread over the surface as Briony happily chats away.
“Hi, babies,” I say, dropping my purse on the end of the bench, pulling out a folder and tucking it under one arm before I head over to them.
“Hi, Mama. Look at my drawing.” Briony holds up the paper for me to see.
I can easily pick myself out from the halo of yellow squiggles around my head.
Gage fills the page from top to bottom, everything coloured black except for bright green eyes.
Two little bodies sit around us, matching yellow squiggles around their heads and big pink smiles.
Balloons and purple flowers surround our little family.
I kiss the top of Briony’s head. “That’s beautiful, B. I love all the balloons.”
“Daddy’s taking us to see Uncle August tomorrow for his birthday. And, see”—her hands move around the page, pointing to each of the flowers—“this is Uncle August. Daddy says he’s not here, but he’s always around.”
“Yes, he is,” I say, looking over at my husband, who wears nothing but a proud smile as he watches our daughter. “Does that mean tomorrow we get to have birthday cake after dinner?”
Isla gasps, looking up at Gage for confirmation. He smiles, widening his eyes. “I heard that Nanna Evelyn is making his favourite—raspberry sponge cake.”
“Sponge. Cake?” Briony looks sceptical, to say the least.
“Not like a cleaning sponge, B,” Gage says, tickling his fingers under her chin before he winds that arm behind my back, pulling me into his side. He’s at the perfect height to press a kiss to my stomach, before resting his chin against me, a sparkle in his eyes as he looks up at me.
“Hi, Buttercup.”
I brush a hand through his hair and rest it against his cheek so I can lean down and kiss him. “Hi, Grim,” I whisper between kisses.
I feel a little mouth press against my cheek. “Mama, kiss.” I laugh as I turn to Isla, barely an inch from my face, and I kiss her hello too.
“Hi, Isla. Did I see you were out in the garden today?”
She nods, and the curls tied on top of her head in little pig tails bounce with the movement. “We made Mama’s favourites.”
“My buttercups?” I ask, and she hands me a drawing full of yellow circles, which I’m guessing are the flowers they planted today.
“How beautiful,” I say, then look at my husband. “I have something for you, too.”
Gage looks up at me, his brows pinched and mouth parted. “For me?”
I take the file from under my arm and place it on the table, then scoop Briony up to sit her on my lap.
“Caleb, Lex, Dylan, and I have been working on something over the last few months, and it finally settled today.” I push the folder towards him.
He eyes me as he flips it open and scans the first page, a picture of an old surf club not far from the aquarium at the top of the page, followed by a description of the building and surrounding land.
“What is this?”
“August Nights,” I say, my composure holding on by a thread.
Gage has spoken so many times about an old idea August used to have of them opening a tiki bar.
One right in the sand where you can drink from coconuts, and no one wears shoes.
A few months ago, I was having lunch with my sisters-in-law, plus Tenley, at one of the restaurants on the harbour front, when I saw that the old surf club building had a for sale sign in the window.
The club recently moved into a brand new building, leaving the old, dated one empty and forgotten.
It sat right against the sand, had a car park that was far too big for the small building, and it was close enough to other venues that it didn’t really need its own one.
An idea formed in my head. I reached out to Dylan, who has experience running a beachfront bar and restaurant, and for the last few months, we’ve been working with Lex and Caleb to get approvals to expand the old building and extend the bar onto the shoreline.
I signed the papers this afternoon as a co-owner with Dylan.
Gage continues to flip through the documents, finding Beth’s designs for the interior. Evelyn helped us with the design, telling us more stories about her son and what she thought he’d pick if he were here doing this with us today.
Apparently, that meant going all in with the theme. Bamboo and thatching, tiki torches, brightly coloured lanterns. Everything that you’d expect if you found yourself in a daydream of washing up on a deserted island. It’s full of charm and wonder, just like August, Evelyn would say.
“A tiki bar?” Gage asks.
I flip to the last page, one that has a full, rendered image of the outdoor bar. Beach lounges nestled in the sand, big white umbrellas with string lights connecting them, and a bamboo bar with a neon pink logo I’ve been secretly designing over the last few weeks, spelling out August Nights.
“Dylan’s already working on the menu, but we didn’t want to pick everything without you. So, these are just our proposals, but you get the final say.”
“Daddy, sad?” Isla asks, twisting on his lap as she holds his face between her little hands.
“No, Sunshine,” Gage whispers. “Daddy’s really happy.”