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“Can’t sleep, either?”
I gasp, holding the pint of ice cream to my pounding heart. Beatrice is dressed in a blue flannel two-piece nightgown with pink flamingos. Her dark hair flows over her shoulders. “Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all.”
She grabs a spoon and sits by me. I put the pint on the table between us. “What’s the flavor of the day?”
I roll my eyes. “Vanilla.”
She tilts her head in confusion. “I figured you would like vanilla.”
Not that vanilla. It seems I’m a vanilla snob. “My cookies that you tried are vanilla, but they taste nothing like your vanilla here in the States.”
She brings a spoonful of ice cream to her mouth, turning the spoon upside down before pulling it out. “Ever try to make ice cream with your Tahitian vanilla?”
“I haven’t. But that’s an excellent idea.”
After a couple minutes of silence, she asks, “Why the ice cream at midnight?”
“It’s a tradition in Bora Bora.” The lie comes out to easy. She sits back against the chair and surveys me. Am I that obvious or does she have that mom intuition with me already? “Okay, it’s not. There’s just a lot on my mind.”
“Are you nervous about meeting your brothers and Mila?”
“Yes, and no. But that’s not why I’m down here.”
She hums like she knows. “Does this have to do with a famous quarterback?”
Okay, so she knows.
I drop my eyes while I scoop another bite of ice cream. Guilt that I’m worried about my relationship rather than focusing on the larger picture creeps in. I should direct all my attention to the mountain in front of me, versus the ant hill.
Except the ant hill has erupted, and the ants are stinging me. It’s hard to ignore.
“If you ever want to talk…” She sticks another spoonful in her mouth.
I have wanted nothing more than a mom my entire life and now that she’s sitting right by me; I don’t know what to do.
I nod, not yet ready to spill my soul to her. I have her DNA, but she’s still a stranger. “Thank you.”
“We’ll get through this. Just know that both David and I are extremely grateful you were brought back to us. But it’ll take time. Never feel guilty.”
With that, she stands and gently places her hand on my head. She pauses like she’s combining our energy through her touch. It’s not until she moves her hand that I feel the loss. She’s right.
I won’t be lost forever.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Aspen
“Can you do that hula dance stuff?”
“Liam,” scolds Beatrice, shooting glares at her youngest son—my older brother by two years.
He shrugs, casually sitting back on the couch. “What? It’s cool.”
I smile at the younger of the two brothers staring at me with curiosity. At least he’s talking to me. The oldest sibling, my sister, has yet to say two words.
“It’s okay,” I respond to Beatrice before turning to Liam. “It’s not called the hula in Tahiti. It’s called Ote’a, or Ori Tahiti. But to answer your question, yes. I used to do shows at the hotels.”
