Page 67 of Passing Ships

“I’m glad you guys made it back safe and sound. Can I get you anything? A snack? Drinks?” she asks as she releases me.

“A drink sounds amazing. And swimsuits, if you have any we can borrow?” I say.

Wade stands. “I can play bartender. What do you girls want? Wine? Whiskey? Something fruity?”

“Something fruity,” I reply.

Eden ushers us upstairs and supplies Avie with an aqua-blue one-piece and me a hunter-green tankini.

We change quickly and head back outdoors.

It’s a sweltering afternoon.

Wade hands us a sweet frozen concoction—God bless him—and we take a seat on the ledge of the pool. Leia doggy-paddles over and clutches the edge between us.

“Did you see me swim in the deep end?” she asks. Her bright eyes are covered by a pair of hot-pink goggles with a matching nose clip.

“We sure did. You’re turning into a fish. I bet your feet are growing gills,” I praise.

Her mouth goes round, and she tries to kick her leg up to see the bottom of her foot.

“She’s kidding, baby. You don’t have gills,” Avie assures her.

Dillon and another teenager dive into the water, drawing Leia’s attention, and she swims off after them.

“Already chasing after boys,” I note. “She gets that from me.”

Eden carries a tray of grapes, strawberries, and shortbread cookies and places it on the table situated between the loungers Wade and Lennon are lying back in. Then, she joins us, sitting to my right and dropping her feet into the water.

I plant my hands on the warm concrete behind me and lean back, lifting my face to the sky.

“God, you guys are so lucky. This is heaven,” I mutter.

“I’m not sure heaven is this hot,” Eden grumbles.

“Hot? No, Atlanta is hot. This is a different kind of summer heat,” I say.

I close my eyes and bask in the rays, letting the healing power of the sun penetrate my bones and try to shake loose from the worry and sadness that has a grip on me.

Seeing Grandma was jarring. She used to be a powerhouse, and I wasn’t prepared for how small and frail she looked in that hospital bed.

The back door swings open, and Sebastian walks out, followed by Anson and Parker.

“Woo, it’s hotter than the fork in the Devil’s tongue today,” Anson yells as he rips his shirt off and takes off running, tucking his legs and cannonballing into the pool.

“See,” Eden says.

Water sails over the edge and drenches us as Anson surfaces with a sputtering Leia in his arms.

“That wasn’t very nice, Uncle Anson,” she chides between coughs.

“Sorry, kiddo. I didn’t see you till it was too late,” he apologizes as he hands her off to Sebastian.

“You okay?” Sebastian asks her, tapping her back as he carries her to the outdoor sofa.

Avie hops to her feet, grabs a towel from a basket by the door, and wraps it around the protesting child.

“Let’s just take a rest. You can get back in after a few minutes.”

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