Page 36 of The House on Firefly Beach
He nodded toward the kitchen, so she led them down the hallway.
She could see her mother and Uncle Hank through the window. They were out on the porch like they often were before the heat of the day settled in. A full pot of coffee was waiting for Sydney, a familiar gesture by her mother. She slid the milk and sugar over before pouring two steaming coffees, but then abandoned the mugs and faced Nate, waiting for any kind of explanation as to his tentativeness a minute ago.
He swallowed, a gentle smile surfacing. “I miss seeing you like this,” he said. “Remember when we’d get so tired writing that we’d fall asleep at one another’s houses and we’d wake up the next morning and look at each other like that night’s sleep together had been some sort of secret prize we’d both won? You’d always raise your eyebrows at me, your face looking like Christmas morning. Remember that feeling?”
“Like it was yesterday,” she replied, allowing her emotion to show. His obvious adoration for her this morning was confusing her, and she could barely keep her mind straight, answering truthfully.
He stared at her, his face full of thoughts. Out of nowhere, it looked as though he were going to kiss her, a move she wasn’t sure how to navigate, the two sides of her brain in stark conflict over it, causing her pulse to rise. He’d hit a nerve with that memory—waking up beside him had been her most favorite thing…
Nate leaned in, the warmth of his breath at her ear as he said, “I miss you.”
Every nerve was on high alert, her mind totally clouded and unable to create a single thought other than the fact that she missed him too. In fact, if she wanted to be totally honest with herself, she’d never stopped missing him. She’d just pushed it down where it would stop hurting so much.
Just then, Uncle Hank came in and the two of them flew apart. “Ah, Robby let you have a break from the drawing lessons?” he asked, seemingly not noticing their proximity.
“Yes,” Nate said, still clearly recovering from the moment. He cleared his throat. “I don’t mind, though. I enjoy being with Robby. He’s very creative.”
“That, he is. Just like his mama,” Uncle Hank replied, getting himself a coffee. He threaded his large fingers through the handles of all three mugs and brought them to the table. “Have a seat with me. I want to pick your brain.”
Nate pulled out the chair.
Last night’s conversation with Uncle Hank came rushing back to Sydney, and she knew that she wanted to be a voice of reason in this little chat. She sat next to Nate and stirred her coffee.
“I need a good real estate agent, and I was hoping you could give me a reference,” Uncle Hank said over his mug. “I’m considering the possibility of selling Starlight Cottage.”
“Really?” Nate asked, his expression oddly unreadable.
“Yeah.” Uncle Hank shook his head.
“Are you downsizing or something?” Nate’s gaze flickered over to Sydney and then back to Uncle Hank. He was clearly trying to get a read on the conversation. It seemed to be making him uncomfortable, but he also didn’t appear to be against the idea of selling.
“Everything is changing in Firefly Beach, and if the new shopping area they’re proposing creates an environment anything like the massive influx of tourists that downtown has been facing every year, I’m not so sure I want to be this close to all the development.” Uncle Hank looked down into his coffee.
Nate tapped his fingers against the table, clearly buying time before he responded. “If it’s seclusion you want, you could build something by me. I’ve been talking it over with Malory. She’s planning to sell as well, and I’m giving her ten acres of the parcel of land that I bought. I could definitely make room for you and the family.”
Uncle Hank pressed his fingers to his lips in thought, clearly wrestling with the kindness of Nate’s gesture and the anguish of losing the last tangible piece of Aunt Clara’s legacy.
Sydney’s opinion wasn’t as diplomatic. Was Nate serious? He’d spent quite enough time here to know how much Starlight Cottage meant to Aunt Clara and to the family. And Uncle Hank was actually giving this ridiculous idea thought?
“You two can’t be considering this,” Sydney said, her heart rate quickening. None of it had seemed real until this moment.
“I’ll bet we can even have the lighthouse moved,” Nate carried on.
“Starlight Cottage is a lot to take care of…” Uncle Hank said, but she could see the sadness under his casual expression. He was stuck and deciding to settle.
“That has never bothered you before,” she said. “That stupid public beach access—it’s ruining everything. We need to fight it!”
“I will,” Uncle Hank said. “In fact, they’ve scheduled an emergency meeting on Friday, and Lewis and I will definitely be there. I think we should all go to show our disagreement.”
“Absolutely. I’m with you,” Sydney said.
“I’ll call around and see if I can drum up some more support. We need numbers at this point.”
“Yes,” she agreed, determined.
“But sometimes, Sydney, despite everything we do, things just change, and, while I’ll do what I can, I’m too old to fight unnecessary battles.” He leaned across the table and took her hand. “Would it be so bad to call another four walls home?” The uncertainty in his voice gave away the fact that he needed her to convince him. And that, she could never do.
Sydney looked over at the chair that had been empty since Aunt Clara had passed, wondering what her aunt would say. She tried to tell herself that Starlight Cottage was Aunt Clara’s vision, and that maybe now it was time for them to all move forward, but just the thought of it brought her to tears. It had been hard enough to face being here without her favorite aunt. But losing Starlight Cottage would be losing the last shred of Aunt Clara, and something inside her screamed out how wrong it was to let it go.
