Page 50 of The House on Firefly Beach
“Oh, Sydney,” she said, her arms stretched wide to embrace her. “I have missed you, my sweet girl.” She pulled Sydney into a bear hug, the floral scent of her perfume registering as one of the markers of Sydney’s childhood. She pulled back. “Are you coming to dinner with us?”
“Probably not tonight,” Sydney said, “but another time, I promise.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.” She fluttered her hands in the air, some sort of excitement hitting her. “We should have all of you kids together! Nate’s back, you’re here. We could get Malory to join us… It would be just like those days when I had you all in my kitchen after school, hanging out.”
“Maybe we could,” Sydney said. But she really wasn’t ready to spend a night reminiscing about old times. It would only serve as a reminder of a life path she hadn’t taken.
“Have you seen Nate since the wedding?” she asked. “Mary Alice told me he would be there.”
“I have, actually,” Sydney said, purposely not elaborating to keep the conversation light.
Susan fluffed one of the pillows on the sofa nearby, her mothering instincts still on high alert. “I’m so glad,” she said as she reached for the stack of magazines, straightening them. She looked around the office waiting room where they were standing. “You know, he’s the reason Mary Alice came back to Firefly Beach.”
“Oh?” Susan’s statement had completely stunned Sydney.
“Yep,” Susan said with a doting look to Mary Alice. “He was the one who talked her into giving up her job, moving to Firefly Beach, and starting her own practice.”
“Nate? NateHenderson?”
“Yes,” Mary Alice said with a nod. She gathered her bags and slid them up onto her shoulder.
Sydney walked with them to the door. “I’d love to hear that story.”
Mary Alice cut off the lights. “I’ll tell you one day, but I can’t tell youeverything. Patient confidentiality and all… But, as an old friend, not a counselor, I urge you to try to get him to open up.”
As Sydney drove home, Uncle Hank’s words went round and round in her head:We all make mistakes, Sydney. Could Nate have changed for the better? What had Mary Alice meant by “everything”? She couldn’t tell hereverything, she’d said. What didn’t Sydney know? And after all, she wasn’t so sure she wanted Nate to open up. If hehadchanged, he was going to have to convince her beyond a shadow of doubt that he had, because it would take a whole lot for her to let him into her heart again.
Chapter Seventeen
Frustration slithered through Sydney as she parked her car next to Nate’s old truck. It had a shiny new paint job, but she could tell it was the same one he’d had all those years ago by the beach shop sticker in the back window.
She still remembered when he’d put that sticker on. They’d been on the beach all day. Sydney lay next to Nate on her towel in the sand, the warmth of the sun playing with her consciousness.
“Let’s get ice cream,” Nate said, rolling over onto his stomach, pulling her from her dreamlike haze that drowned out everything but the rushing surf and coastal wind. He leaned over her, his shadow allowing her to focus on the adoration in his eyes as he looked at her.
“I don’t want to get up,” she said, hoping he’d look at her like that forever.
He leaned down and kissed her. The salty taste of his lips was a sensation she’d never forget. It was the taste of every summer she’d spent with him.
He took her hands and pinned them playfully above her head. “You know you want some mint chocolate chip,” he said.
“Stop.” She giggled as she squirmed away from him. “You’re all hot and sandy.”
“Hot foryou,” he said, pulling her to him and nuzzling her neck.
“Get off,” she squealed with laughter. “There are families on the beach.”
“And they’ll all know I adore you.” He kissed her again.
She wriggled to a sitting position and he ran his fingers through her hair, pulling her to him for another kiss. “This is my ploy to get a cup of double chocolate swirl,” he teased, kissing her over and over.
She laughed. “Let’s go,” she said, relenting and standing up.
They gathered their things and headed to the ice cream parlor, where they got ice cream cones—giant waffle cones with piles and piles of ice cream. Beside the ice cream parlor was the beach shop, and they walked the aisles of the store, licking their cones.
“I need to have these shades,” Nate said, slipping on a ridiculous pair of blaze-orange sunglasses.
Sydney laughed and took them off him. “Don’t hide that gorgeous face,” she said.
