Page 62 of The House on Firefly Beach
“Who’s Logan?” he asked.
“I met him at the wedding,” she said. “He doesn’t know a lot of people here. Maybe you should include him. He’d probably like that.”
Robby’s gaze was cautious.
“Maybe you could meet him first,” she suggested. “You and Ben could show him all the good fishing spots.”
“And Nate,” he corrected her.
She smiled to cover her worry. “It was just an idea. We can talk more about it later.” She kissed his cheek and tucked the blankets around his little body. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” he said, closing his eyes.
“Sleep tight.”
Sydney turned off the lamp by Robby’s bed and let herself out of the room, the uncertainty of the situation settling heavily on her. Before she joined her family, she had an idea. It was time to give Logan a quick call.
“Sydney, it’s nice to hear from you,” Logan said as Sydney closed herself into her bedroom and lowered herself down on the four-poster bed. She smoothed her hand over Aunt Clara’s sand-colored linens.
“I had an idea,” she said to him.
“Tell me.” His voice was gently eager to hear what she had to say.
“When we have dinner tomorrow night, how about we do a picnic instead?”
“A storm’s coming in, so the temperature will drop a little by tomorrow night. It would be perfect.”
“One more request,” she said. “I’d like to bring my son, Robby.”
“Oh?” He didn’t sound taken aback, which was good. He was more curious.
“I’ve been so busy this week, and I don’t want to leave him with my mom again. She’s done so much for me since I’ve gone back to work—she needs a break, even though she’d never say so, and I need some quality time with Robby. You could come to Starlight Cottage and we could go down to the beach once the fireflies are out, maybe do some fishing.”
Her shoulders relaxed when she could almost hear his smile on the other end of the line. “That would be fantastic. I’ll gather up all my fishing supplies.”
“Thank you so much,” she said, relieved.
“I can’t wait. … and maybe when Robby goes to bed, we can grab a drink somewhere?”
“That sounds great.” For the first time in a while, a quiet optimism settled over her.
Sydney said her goodbyes, and then settled in, under her covers, leaning against the headboard with her laptop balanced on her legs. She stared at the email she’d opened and viewed her two topics forNY Pulse. The first one was titled “A Love Letter.” She opened a blank document and rested her fingers on the keys, pulling into herself to think of possible angles for this topic. There were so many people she could write a love letter to—she even thought of Mel and his lost love—but the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she needed to write one to herself. She started typing.
To the girl who wonders
To the girl who wonders where she went wrong, sometimes there’s no right or left, only forward. To begin the journey you want, all it requires of you is to take the first step. To the girl who wishes things could be different, ask yourself, “Different from what?” Different from the empty space and time in which you live, the void yearning to be filled with your dreams? Itcanbe different. Look up at the stars, find your light, and pull it into your void. To the girl who wonders if there’s love out there…
She took a deep breath and tried to collect her thoughts. This was a tough one. How did she really feel about love? As she considered this, her phone pinged with an email from mel4221. She opened it.
Hi Ms. Flynn,
I was wondering what you thought about my last statement that I was going to show the person I love how much I love her. Do you think that’s a good idea?
Mel
Goodness. What should she say to this? Maybe she should just be honest with him.
Hi there,
