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"In your dreams!" Liamcountered, his laughter dancing in the air.
A smile tugged at the corners ofCharlotte's mouth. Here, in this small moment, was the sweet simplicity ofconnection she craved for her new life in Chesham Cove. And perhaps, justmaybe, it was a sign that the healing she sought for herself and for Liam wascloser than she thought.
"Mind if I join the winners'circle?" Charlotte finally announced her presence, stepping into thelight.
Liam looked up, his smile broadening."You wanna play too?"
"Absolutely." She movedcloser, taking a seat beside them. This was where she belonged, not amongst theechoes of a life that no longer fit, but here, in the warmth of this seasidevillage, building a future out of shared smiles and simple joys.
Simon leaned over the checkerboard, hiseyes gleaming with a gentle challenge. "Alright, Liam," he said, thetimbre of his voice low and inviting, "tell me about your championstrategy while you make your next move."
Liam's hand hovered above the board,his fingers tentative as if each checker were a precious stone rather thanpainted wood. He glanced at Simon and then to Charlotte, a shy pride flickeringacross his young face.
"Back home," he started, thewords tumbling out cautiously, "my granddad taught me how to play. Saidit's all about thinking ahead and seeing the whole board." His gazedrifted, momentarily lost in the memory. "He had this old set, all carvedand fancy. I used to say, 'Liam, life's like a game of checkers. You gotta beready for the jumps.'"
Charlotte watched the exchange, herheart swelling at the easy rapport between Simon and Liam. She saw in Simon'sattentive nod and warm smile something pure and paternal. This man, who tiedhis life to the ebb and flow of the tides, understood the delicate dance ofdrawing a child out from the shell of their experiences.
"Your granddad sounds like a wiseman," Simon said, moving his piece in a smooth arc. "And I bet he'dbe proud to see how well you're playing now."
"Maybe," Liam replied, hisfocus returning to the game as he made his move with newfound confidence. “He’sback in New Hampshire, where we used to live.”
Ah—a clue.
In the lull of the game, while Liam wascontemplating a move, Charlotte caught Simon's eye and gestured subtly towardthe snug, a cozy corner away from the hearth. They moved together, both tryingto be discreet.
"Simon," she began, her voicebarely above a whisper, "we need to talk about Liam's future. If Henrydoesn't come back—"
"Charlotte," Simoninterjected, his voice tender yet resolute, "I've been thinking the samething. He said his grandfather is in New Hampshire. Your father?”
“No, all of my grandparents havepassed. It must be on his mother’s side.”
“Bringing him back to his mum's kinmight give him a fresh start, don't you think?"
Charlotte nodded, the weight ofresponsibility pressing on her shoulders. "It's just that... he's alreadybeen through so much. Uprooting him again—it has to be for the best. We need tobe sure."
Simon reached out, his roughfisherman's hand enveloping hers. "We'll do what's right for the lad. Justlike you've done since the day you arrived here. Chesham Cove is better forhaving you, Charlotte. And so is Liam."
Her eyes locked onto Simon's, findingan anchor in their stormy blue depths.
"Then we'll figure it outtogether," she said, a determined edge to her voice, inspired by hisunwavering support.
"Always," he affirmed,squeezing her hand before they both turned back.
“I think I’ll slip out and try Agnes.She helped me find Henry before.”
Simon nodded. “Go. I’ll entertain thelad.”
Charlotte excused herself from the warmcircle of laughter that had formed around Simon and Liam at the game board. Herbrow furrowed with concern as she stepped into the quiet of the inn's office.She dialed Agnes's number.
"Agnes, it's Charlotte," shesaid when the call connected, her voice low. "Have you heard anything? Anyword from Henry?"
There was a pause, and then Agnes'svoice crackled through the line, frail yet kind. "Oh, dear, I wish I hadnews for you. But nothing has come up, not a whisper. I'm so sorry,Charlotte."
The disappointment settled heavily inCharlotte's chest, a familiar ache that spoke of broken family ties andunresolved farewells. "Thank you, Agnes. If you hear anything—anything atall..."
"Of course, my dear. You'll be thefirst to know," Agnes assured her/ “Is everything all right?”
“Yes, just a miscommunication, I’msure,” Charlotte replied. She didn’t have the energy to explain to anyone elsetoday.
