Page 103 of Better Late Than Never

“You were probably just jetlagged,” Quinn said. “I didn’t notice it either.”

“Trust me,” I said. “They serve beer at that one.”

Quinn huffed. “Okay, that settles it. We’re going to BK or McDonald’s while we’re here, just so we can order beer.”

“Really?” Savannah asked, and I could almost hear her rolling her eyes.

“What? I have to see this!”

“Oh my God,” she muttered.

Beside me, Landon laughed. “Guess we’re getting fast food while we’re in Spain.”

“Yep. Guess we are.” I shrugged. “Fine by me.”

At that point, anything was fine by me.

Quinn, Landon, and Savannah were here.

I couldn’t ask for much more.

* * *

“Holy shit.” Landon gaped at the house. “This place is huge!”

“Did you win the lottery or something?” Quinn asked.

I laughed as I helped them unload their bags. “No, the rent is a lot cheaper here than it is in the States. Come on, let’s take all this inside.”

There was more “holy shit” and “no, really, this place is freaking huge” as we filed inside. I couldn’t blame them—I’d had a similar reaction when the realtor showed it to me. Sometimes I’d thought it was too big. I was the only one here, after all.

But now that my kids had arrived, it seemed just right. There was plenty of space for them to stay here rather than in a hotel, and we’d all have enough breathing room for four adults in the same house over ten days.

Quinn and Savannah took the guest room downstairs while Landon took the spare bedroom down the hall from mine.

While they settled, I sent their mother a message.

Kids made it safely. They’re all settling in.

Both boys were pretty good about letting me or her know when they’d arrived somewhere, but I knew she’d be worried with them traveling internationally. She was a nervous traveler herself, and she’d almost asked for a Xanax prescription when Quinn and Savannah went to Europe after they graduated high school. So it seemed only right to make sure she knew they were safely here with me.

Landon wanted to take a shower and then FaceTime with his girlfriend back home. Savannah—who couldn’t sleep on planes—wanted to grab a nap.

I was in the living room, texting with Alex, when Quinn came upstairs. He’d changed into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt with the name of his university across the front, and he looked pretty well-rested. Knowing him, he’d slept the entire flight to Madrid and the shorter one to Jerez.

I quickly texted Alex.

Going to hang with the kids. FaceTime later?

Any time. Have fun with them!

I put my phone aside and got up off the couch. I showed my older son around the upper floor of the house, and then we went outside to enjoy the afternoon beside the pool with a couple of cold beers. The scorching heat of August had relented, and though September was still seriously hot, it felt less like the surface of the sun. Quinn and I took chairs in the cabana, keeping our too-white-for-this-climate skin in the shade.

“So, do you like it here?” Quinn asked.

“The house?” I asked. “Or Spain?”

“The house is fire. I know you like that. But what about Spain? The base?”

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