AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The doctor leaves the room, and a young blonde nurse immediately appears. The dehydration makes finding a vein in Sophie’s arm difficult. I feel pain, as though it were my own arm, as she jabs Sophie several times with the needle. Once the IV is in place, the nurse draws three tubes of blood and starts the flow of clear fluids.
I wait until the nurse has left the room before speaking. “This is bad, Ashton. What if I broke my child? What if she doesn’t recover? I can’t do this. I suck at parenting. The girls are better off with Tracy’s parents.”
Ashton takes hold of my arms and gives me a firm shake. “Hush! Don’t you dare say that. We’re not turning those children over to Loretta and Clarence Beaumont.” She draws me into her arms. “Let me help you, Will.”
I collapse against her. “Help me how?”
“I think you and the girls should come stay with me at Marsh Point for a while.”
I hold my head back so I can see her. “A while? As in a couple of weeks?”
“Longer than that. At least through the holidays. You’re welcome to stay a year. However long it takes for you to get back on your feet.”
I frown. “But what about you and Sully? Your relationship is so new.”
“Sully’s a father. He’ll understand. Besides, we’re not serious like that. We’re just having fun.”
“I don’t know, Ashton. That seems like too big of an imposition.”
She palms my face. “Mama left the house to me for this very reason, Will. To bring our family back together. I have plenty of room. Too much room, actually. I would love to have you and the girls. We’ll figure this parenting thing out together.”
A year ago, I would never have considered living at Marsh Point. But the renovations have wiped the slate clean. The house is ready for new memories. “Your offer is incredibly generous. My house is part of my problem. Tracy’s presence is everywhere. I feel like she’s watching over me, but not in a good way. I sense her judging me, waiting for me to do something wrong.”
“Your imagination is getting the best of you. I think a change of scenery is definitely warranted.” A smile tugs at the corner of my sister’s lips. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll end up selling that house and finding a historic waterfront home to renovate.”
“Maybe. That would be my dream.”
Hope blossoms inside of me. I haven’t felt optimism in so long, I almost don’t recognize it. Unfortunately, it’s short-lived, replaced immediately by the looming sense of dread that has been hanging over my head for as long as I can remember.
NINE
JULIA
I spend the morning navigating the quaint streets of South Carolina's Lowcountry, passing through its charming small towns. The sight of moss-draped trees and the serene marshy shorelines captivate me, each bend in the road revealing a picturesque new vista. I fall instantly in love with Charleston, but a quick Zillow search tells me what I already suspected: I can’t afford to live here. We explore John’s Island, Kiawah Island, and the tiny town of Rockville on Wadmalaw Island but pass on all three for various reasons. I earmark Edisto Beach and Beaufort as possibilities, although neither quite feels like home.
We’re making our way south towards Hilton Head when Conrad kicks the back of my seat. “Mommy, I’m hungry.”
I glance at the clock. “Wow! It’s two o’clock already. I guess you are hungry. And so am I, come to think of it.”
A passing sign alerts me to Water’s Edge five miles ahead. Although I’d noticed the town on the map, I’d written it off as being too small. But I’m pleasantly surprised by the attractive buildings that greet us on Main Street. Coffee and flower shops. A large hardware store, gourmet grocery, and the Velvet Spoon. I’m a sucker for gelato. Turning the corner, I drive a block east where we discover a row of restaurants, most of which offer outdoor seating overlooking Catawba Sound.
I locate a space in the parking lot shared by the waterfront businesses, and we get out of the car. Strolling along the boardwalk, I ask, “Where would you like to eat?”
He stops in front of a tavern. “What about here?” He reads the wooden sign above the door. “The Turtle’s Nest.”
I’m not surprised. One of his favorite books is about sea turtles. But I am impressed at the rate at which he’s learning to read. “Works for me.”
The restaurant’s interior is a warm cocoon with worn wooden floors and mounted turtles adorning the ship-lapped walls. Lunchtime has passed, and at this late hour, only a handful of tables are occupied.
“Where do you wanna sit?” I ask Conrad. “Table or booth?”
“Let’s sit there,” he says, pointing at the wooden bar occupying the far wall.
“Fine by me.”
Making our way over to the bar, I give him a lift onto a stool and sit down beside him.
The yellow specks in Conrad’s brown eyes glisten as he takes in the restaurant’s decor. “Is this Adventure, Mommy?”
