Just a quick note to say thank you to everybody for their support for this new little story. 100(!) people had this on their
alerts within twenty-four hours. You guys blow my mind.
Chapter Two
Bella
"You're home," Mom says, folding me in her arms as I collapse against her.
It's been a long day.
First, we were delayed taking off at Gatwick thanks to some assholes flying drones near the runway, then we hit turbulence somewhere off the coast of Florida which wound up adding an extra thirty minutes or so to an already long flight. All in all, I think we were in the air for more than ten hours. That's an awful long time for three fidgety boys and their fretting momma.
"Hi, Mom," I breathe, greedily inhaling her familiar perfume as my eyes sting with a mixture of tiredness and relief.
Rubbing his eyes with balled-up fists, Arlo whines, "I'm tired, Momma."
Peering at him resting in Dad's arms, I smile. "I know, Lo. Me, too."
It may only be a little before eight here but we're still on Eastbourne time, and it's almost one a.m. back in England. Even though we all slept for short stretches on the plane, we're exhausted. I wish I could fall straight into bed with my boys and sleep for a week.
Alas, the baggage carousel awaits. Dad carries Arlo for me while Mom gently tugs me along with her arm around my waist, Jaxson clinging to my hand with Finley on his other side. I quietly fill her in, telling her about the boys' excitement when they realized they could watch movies while we flew, and about Finley's disgust when they served up the typical plane fare for dinner. He's my little fusspot when it comes to food. If it's anything other than the color beige or from a Happy Meal box, it's not passing his lips.
By the time we've collected our bags and started making our way toward the parking garage, Arlo is out on Dad's shoulder, Jaxson and Finley are dragging their tired feet, and I'm seriously struggling to keep my eyes open.
It's only when I open the door to the backseat of Mom's Tahoe that I realize I totally forgot we'd need car seats. Thankfully, Mom was on the ball.
"We got them fitted this morning," she tells me when I thank her effusively, carefully buckling Arlo in without waking him. Jaxson and Finley can buckle themselves into the back row, but I lean over the seat to double check them anyway.
"Thanks, Mom." A yawn interrupts me, her smiling eyes bright when I shake it off and offer her a small smile.
"Come on, honey. Let's get you home to bed. We can catch up properly tomorrow."
It takes a shade under three hours to get to Jackson Bay. I sleep through the whole journey. The boys, too. Mom wakes me up in time to see the Welcome To Jackson Bay sign as we roll over the hill, though.
At the hill's crest, the beautiful bay I grew up in is spread out before us. The moon reflects off the navy ocean, the lights of a few night owls punctuating the darkness. There are just over a thousand people living here in the bay, so it's a much smaller town than the one we've just come from. I think I'd forgotten just how small it is.
"Welcome home, honey."
Tiredness weighs heavily on my eyelids, but I muster a smile for Mom as she turns in her seat to face me. "It's good to be back."
The brightness in her eyes and the wide smile on her face tells me it's good to have us back. She's been begging me to come home for months; years, even. To be fair, she never wanted me to go in the first place, but she put aside her feelings to be encouraging of my dreams. I've always been grateful for her never-waning support. She and Dad, they're the best parents I could ever wish for, and they've been amazing grandparents to the boys even from a distance.
It makes me happy to know they'll be able to see them much more now we're all on the same continent. They'll be able to do all the things other grandparents get to do, like babysit, go on days out, hype the boys up on sugar before sending them home to me...well, when we find a place of our own, anyway. For the time being, we'll live with Mom and Dad in the house where I spent my childhood.
It isn't long before we're pulling onto Sunshine Avenue. The houses are all much the same, the lawns well taken care of and the cars progressively more luxurious. Jackson Bay is small, but The Boardwalk—the main street which starts at the beach, stretches back into the town, and houses most of the stores—acts as the line between the two halves; this side, where my parents live, and the other side, which hosts the more modest homes and the small Bay Hospital. Some of the homes this side of town overlook the ocean, which hikes up their values. Mom and Dad bought theirs when it was run-down and turned it into a gorgeous family home, but I know they've talked about moving to somewhere a smidge smaller with a view of the Atlantic once they have an empty nest.
As we roll onto the short drive leading up to my parents' front door, I can't help but smile despite the ache in my bones and the exhaustion weighting my limbs.
It hasn't changed one bit.
The gray siding is the same, just like the white shutters, the neat lawn, and the shrubbery under the first floor windows. The pots my siblings and I painted as children for Mothers' Days still sit on the porch, and the wooden plaque Dad made right after their wedding is still on the wall.
The Swans.
Nostalgia warms me as we climb out of the air-conditioned car. Solar lights along the path to the front door lead our way. Arlo shifts in my arms, mumbling gibberish as I carry him inside.
"Whoa," Jaxson murmurs. "It's bigger than I remember."
Dad grins and squeezes his shoulder. "We'll have plenty time to explore, don't worry."
"Hey, kiddo," I whisper, kissing Arlo's head. "We're here."
His eyes peel open just enough to look around the foyer before he murmurs something about Cheetos and drifts off to sleep again.
Resting a hand on my arm, Dad tells me he's set up the guest bedroom for the boys as their room isn't quite ready yet, but I figure they'll be disoriented enough waking up here without being in a different room to me. My childhood home is substantially bigger than the two-bedroom annexe they've called 'home' their entire lives.
"I'll just have them in with me tonight. They'll probably be confused when they first wake up and won't know where to find me, otherwise."
"Ah, we didn't think of that," Dad admits, rubbing his jaw.
"That's okay, it's not a problem."
An eye-watering yawn makes both my parents laugh before they usher me toward the stairs. "We'll see you in the morning. Sleep as long as you like, we'll be here."
"Thank you both." After kissing each of their cheeks, I lug my youngest up the stairs with my eldest two trailing behind, my feet following a familiar path down the hall to my bedroom. It's been my room since the day I was born. It, like the exterior of this house, hasn't changed a bit since the day I left.
As I fall into bed between my boys after taking care of business in the bathroom, I can't help but wonder how the me of today—the me who has three sons and so much more life experience than the girl who used to inhabit this room—will fit into this home, this town, after walking away from it for so long.
"Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty!"
What the…
The beaming face poised over me when my eyes flash open isn't the face of my four- or either or my six-year-olds, but that of my twenty-four-year-old sister.
"Everly!"
Although half-asleep, I can't help but grin right back as I sit up and pull her into a hard hug. I've missed her just as much as I missed my parents. She was accepted into Florida State on a swim team scholarship right out of high school, so she couldn't just up and fly to the UK with my parents when they visited. It's been a long slog of Facetime and Messenger calls to get through the time apart from all three of my siblings—Benjamin, Rosalie, and Everly. Since college, Everly has taken over the swim school here in the bay. It's kept her so busy that regular calls have been hard to come by, so I'm glad we're finally in the same town again. The same house, even. The boys will love getting to spend more time with her when they join her summer swim club in July, too.
"I couldn't miss the great homecoming, could I? Or your first morning waking up here after being away so long," she laughs, squeezing me. "It's all Mom and Dad have been going on about for weeks, literally." Everly rolls her eyes when she pulls back, but her smile contradicts the gesture. She's as happy to have me home as I am to be here. "So, how was the flight? How was flying a million miles with the boys?"
My heart lurches. "Oh—"
"Don't panic, they're in the kitchen with Mom. Last I saw, they were baking up a storm."
"Right, okay." Blowing out a long breath, I lean back against the headboard and laugh when Everly shifts around to join me. "It was...long. Long by anyone's standards, but for a three little boys it was pretty unbearable. Movies can only keep them stationary for so long, you know?"
"God, I can imagine. I hate long-haul flights."
Poking her leg, I point out the obvious. "That's because you got Mom's legs."
In the gene department, all of Mom and Dad's four kids got a pretty even split. Benjamin is all Dad. I'm much the same but with Dad's dark hair—when it isn't dyed magenta, like it is currently—and Mom's gray eyes, only I inherited what our family affectionately refer to as Petite Swan Syndrome. Most of the women in the Swan family tend to be on the petite side. My dad has six younger sisters and every one is either under five feet tall or only barely above. At just a shade taller than five feet myself, I've definitely inherited that particular gene. My two younger sisters, however, are the tall, blonde, statuesque beauties people read about in romance novels. They get their height and their blonde locks from our Mom.
I'm not ashamed to admit I've been jealous in the past.
Shrugging and flipping her hair over her shoulder, Everly flashes her teeth in a pearly-white grin. "Sooo, how does it feel to be home? It's been a while."
"Three years," I confirm. "I haven't had time to really adjust yet. We got in late and came straight to bed. Ask me again later when Mom and Dad have filled the boys with sugar."
~ oOo ~
Hours later, once Benjamin and Angela, my brother and his girlfriend, have arrived with my three-year-old nephew Danny, my worries about the boys being not settling in have been proven completely unfounded.
After a brief moment of hesitation when their uncle, aunt, and cousin first arrived, I haven't seen any of the kids for more than a few seconds at a time.
Finley can be nervous of strangers, but he seems to be doing just fine. It helps that Jaxson and Arlo slotted in seamlessly and started running around with Danny as soon as he arrived, so he has their example to follow.
Instead of fussing over them, which is what I'm sorely tempted to do, I force myself to relax at the dining table and enjoy having a face-to-face conversation with my brother for the first time in nearly four years. Benjamin hasn't changed a bit. He's still the big goofball I grew up with. He's still loud, cheeky, and enjoys being a wind-up merchant.
Angela, his high school sweetheart and partner of eight years now, is just as fierce as I remember. It's a necessary evil considering she's marrying my oaf of a brother later this year. I wear an almost painful smile when she asks if the boys and I will be in the wedding, then invites me to her dress fitting next month.
If I'd still been in England, fittings would have been just another important thing in a long list of many that I'd miss.
By the time the boys rush inside, their hair sweaty and their faces split by their smiles, the last of my siblings has arrived.
Rosalie sweeps into the room laden with files and barking instructions into the headset tucked into her ear. She flashes us a brief smile before motioning toward the den and mouthing that she'll be right back.
While Everly went off to college to pursue her own dream, Rosalie went into the family business and made Dad's decade by joining him at Swan's Nest, his USA-wide hotel franchise. The last time we spoke, he'd given her more responsibility with the two hotels he owns here in Florida. She was stoked about it even though it takes up way more of her time than she anticipated.
Rosalie and Dad...they're two peas in a pod.
Dad shakes his head with a chuckle. "She could be anywhere from a few minutes away from joining us to a couple of hours. Shall we start getting ready for dinner, then we can catch up with her once she's done?"
A chorus of agreement rings out, so we all scatter. Benjamin, Angela, and Danny head back next door to their house to freshen up, Mom and Dad take Jaxson and Finley with them to get ready, and Everly and I laugh as I tug Arlo away from the windows beside the front door where he's waving to Danny.
"You'll see him again in a little while, Lo," I promise.
Sighing and pushing his hair out of his face, Arlo nods. "'Kay. Can I have my bath in your tub, Aunt Everly?"
Everly's loud laugh makes him smile. "Of course!"
"Sweet!"
In the time I've been away, the Jack and Jill bathroom between my bedroom and Everly's has had an overhaul. I didn't notice last night when I stumbled in to use the toilet, bleary-eyed and half asleep, but the changes were impossible to miss this morning. The old, shallow tub is gone. It's been replaced by a walk-in shower in one corner and a long, deep tub along the other wall.
Arlo's already told me he thinks it's big enough to swim in.
"You know," I murmur, ruffling Arlo's hair. "That's our bath, too, for the time being. We share it with Aunt Everly."
Arlo's eyes widen with glee. "Cool! I'm gonna swim in the tub. It's so big!"
"That's my doing," Everly admits with pride. "Dad got fed up with me complaining that I couldn't fit my legs in the old one."
Reaching the hall where our rooms are located, I let Everly take over Arlo's bath time. Her pleading eyes and reminder that she's never had the opportunity before convince me. Plus, it's kind of nice having a chance to get ready without any of my boys underfoot for a change. I love my kiddos, but they can be wild as a box of frogs.
I showered this morning, so I listen to Arlo's giggles and Everly's laughter through the ajar bathroom door as I pick outfits for myself and my boys to wear to dinner. Mom and Dad haven't said where we're going, but knowing their fluctuating tastes, it could be somewhere flashy or somewhere casual.
Finally deciding on a simple wrap dress for myself and polo shirts with chino shorts for the boys, I've just finished getting dressed and piling my hair on top of my head in a messy bun when the door to the bathroom flies open.
"Arlo, hold on!" Everly chokes out between giggles, rushing into the room in hot pursuit of my dripping wet son.
"I'm all clean, Momma," he tells me cheerfully, cupping himself and giving me a wide, bright-eyed smile from under his mop of wet hair. It's grown out a lot since his last trim; it hangs past his ears at this point and way past his eyebrows.
Cocking my head, I ask, "Do you think it's almost time for a haircut?" At Arlo's quick head-shake, I clarify, "A trim, maybe?"
"Maybe a trim," he concedes. "Only a teeny tiny bit though, 'kay?"
"Okay. Now, how about some clothes?"
Everly snorts when Arlo loudly declares that he's proud of his body.
"You've been watching Gok Wan with Nanny Jude again, haven't you?"
The smirk on his face gives the game away. "Maybe…"
So it seems the obsession with fashion shows might have transcended oceans. Ideal.
"All right. Well, c'mon, kiddo. It's time to get dried and dressed. I can take it from here, Ev."
Everly hands over the towel, still laughing as she heads back into the bathroom to get herself ready. "Don't ever change, Arlo," she calls over her shoulder.
"Don't worry Aunt Everly, I won't," my boy chimes happily, completely nonplussed about being butt-naked. Of my three sons, Arlo's the most likely to ditch the duds. He's a miniature nudist, for sure.
"Okay, mister. Let's get you dressed."
Once he's dry and wearing his dinner outfit, I plop him on the bed so I can attempt to tame his hair. He's been blessed with gorgeous, thick, soft locks, but he hates sitting still to have it brushed.
"Are you almost done?" He asks for the millionth time as I gather his mane on top of his head.
"Yep, one second, Lo." I keep a trio of hairbands on my wrist for exactly this. "Red, blue, or black?"
Toying with the hem of his salmon-striped polo shirt, he murmurs, "Black."
"Black it is." Tying his hair up in a knot on the crown of his head, I finally pat his shoulder. "Okay, you're free. Run wild, crazy thing."
And run wild, he does. By the time I make it downstairs with his little rucksack of distractions for while we're out and about, he's sitting on the kitchen island cackling his head off with Rosalie, his hair already in need of another brush.
"You didn't!"
Baring his teeth in a wide grin, Arlo nods vehemently. "I did! Momma and Nanny Jude helpded me."
"Helped, baby," I gently correct. "What did we help you with?"
His eyes dart to mine, crinkled at the corners with the force of his smile. "We jumped off the big pier, didn't we, Momma?"
Nodding, I enjoy the surprise on my sister's face. "We did. You were such a brave boy." Looking at Rosalie, I promise to find the pictures. "It was hilarious."
Last month, a week after Arlo turned four, he finally got to join the annual charity pier dive. The minimum age requirement is four, but Arlo has been begging to try it ever since he was two and Jude held him while I jumped with Jaxson and Finley. Somewhere, I have photos of us right after we popped up in the water, Arlo still safe in my arms with his floaties around his arms and chest and the biggest, proudest grin on his face. I have a similar shot of me with his brothers after their first jump, and then a series of photos of each jump since.
"Well, little man, you're braver than me," Rosalie tells him. "I'd be way too scared to do something like that."
Arlo visibly puffs up with pride and I'm imbued with the feeling of this is home as I join him at the counter and get to watch my sister building bonds with him.
~ oOo ~
"Where are we goin'?" Arlo stage whispers.
"To dinner," I whisper back with a smile.
"Well, yeah," he sighs like duh. "But where?"
Gazing out at the scenery rushing by, I shrug. The streets we're traversing are only vaguely familiar. Jackson Bay hasn't changed that much since the last time I called it 'home,' but I've heard there are a few new stores and restaurants popping up here and there. "I'm not sure, Lo."
"Nana?"
Mom turns her head to face him. "Yes, honey?"
"Where are we goin'?"
Turning her gaze to me, Mom laughs. "Can't you guess?"
Peering out of the window with furrowed brows, I try to place myself as the stirrings of realization start to spread. The film of my old memories blankets the storefronts and shrouds the taller trees that line the sidewalk. I remember skipping along with my sisters as we headed to the park at the end of the street.
Mr. Walters' laundromat is still there, as is the Samuels' bakery that always used to sell the best donuts in Jackson Bay, and Mrs. Paul's ice creamery. The next block is home to a combined barbers and hairdressers, a convenience store, and…
Oh.
My smile stretches wide as Dad slows, following Benjamin's 4x4 into the parking lot while my eyes take in the glowing red letters above the last store in the little row.
Cullen's Gourmet Burger Co.
Of course they've brought us here. Where else would we go in Jackson Bay but the restaurant owned by my mom and dad's best friend?
I wondered when I'd get to see him, when I'd get to introduce my boys to him, but I didn't expect it to be this soon. Butterflies take flight in my stomach.
"Where are we? Are we there? Why are we stopping?"
Guffawing at Arlo's stream of questions, Dad kills the engine. "Yes, we're here, Arlo. This is our friend's restaurant."
"Oh…" Arlo mouths, scrambling to unbuckle himself. "Can we go in?"
"Sure, come on."
As we all climb out, I can't help but shake my head. Although the lights over the storefront are a different color and the door has been painted a matching apple red, it looks exactly how I remember it. That seems to be a recurring theme, lately. I can't help but wonder if I'm the only change this little town has seen in the last nine years.
Wrapping an arm around my shoulders as I step onto the sidewalk, joining the rest of our family, Benjamin grins. "You having your usual, little sis?"
"I'm sure the menu's changed since I last ate here, Ben."
"Nu-uh," Everly sings, hip-checking me so she can go into the restaurant first. "He's added a couple new things, but the classics are still all here."
Shocked but secretly pleased I'll still be able to get my old favorites, I savor the different aromas as we walk into what was always my favorite place to eat. Burger Co. belongs to Dad's best friend, so we used to eat here a lot. Muscle memory has me lifting my foot a tiny bit higher to ascend the small step just inside the door; I reach for Arlo and haul him upright by his shirt as he stumbles over it. Nostalgia sweeps through me as a familiar face steps around the bar to make his way toward us.
"The prodigal daughter returns!" Jones crows, grabbing me for a rough hug complete with a noogie.
Laughing even as my cheeks burn with mortification, I ignore the other customers staring at us and give Jones a good dig in the side with my fingers. He lets go of me with a yelp. "You still don't fight fair, Swan."
"Well, neither do you, Jones. No fair with the ring."
Jones winces, thumbing the band around his right middle finger. "Oops, sorry."
Stepping up with his little arms crossed, Jaxson peers at Jones with a beady-eyed scowl. "You hurt my momma."
Barking a laugh, Jones squats to be eye-level with my son. I can't help but smile at the sight of them assessing each other. "I'm very sorry, little man. You must be Bella's kid, yeah?"
"Jaxson Lane Swan," he confirms, holding up all ten fingers before tucking all but his thumb down on one hand. "I'm six."
Jones purses his lips. "I'd need a few extra hands to show my age on my fingers, but I'm Liam Jones. You can call me 'Jones,' though."
"Are you Momma's friend?"
"I sure am," Jones says, straightening back up and shooting me a wink, "for all my sins."
The introductions continue as Jones seats us at the long table near the window. Arlo is won over the second Jones asks if he wants nachos while we decide what to order. My youngest thinks with his stomach before his head, bless his heart.
Then Jones laughs incredulously when he spots Finley and does a double take between him and Jaxson. Being identical twins, only those who know them well can tell them apart easily. It even took me weeks to be one hundred percent confident figuring out who was who when they were babies. Strangers have no chance unless they're wearing something personalized with their name or initiasl.
I only recognize one of the two servers working tonight. Lily just about yanks me out of my seat to hug me, and only barely restrains herself from giving the boys the same treatment—not that they would have minded. They're lapping up all the attention.
Arlo and Danny have already commandeered the end of the booth and hijacked the complimentary nachos Jones brought over before Jaxson and Finley stole his focus.
Mom and Dad, as well as my siblings, are still regulars here just like they were when I left, but it takes me a few minutes while everyone is catching up to read through the menu and refresh my memory. Everly was right, though—the menu is the same except for a couple of specials.
Jones eventually retreats back to the kitchen, promising with a wink to give us a little extra somethin' with our meals. Lily swats him with her notebook, then patiently takes our orders.
"So," Mom says when she returns with our drinks. "Where's the boss this evening?"
Lily's smile fades a little. Quietly, she admits, "He went home early. Rough night."
My chest squeezes. I was hoping to see him. It's been years. I wrack my brain, trying to remember, and then my stomach drops to my feet.
It was the funeral. That was the last time.
"I'll give him a call later on," Mom decides, her features etched with sympathy as Jones brings all the kids' meals out and unleashes the flood of delicious-smelling food.
Over chilli cheese fries, a katsu curry burger, and freshly squeezed OJ, I get to reconnect with my family. Arlo, Jaxson, and Finley finally get to experience the sort of big family dinners I cherished as a kid. For the first time ever, we're all together in one spot.
It's precious, glorious family time. However, I can't help but glance toward the bar, disappointed that I won't be getting a glimpse of the man I was both nervous and excited to see.
Huge hugs and thank yous to annaharding, Thats-So-Alex, LadyLoonie, Anakinsmom, and LizziePaige for your help. You ladies rock and I heart you.