Samantha sat cross-legged beneath the low bow of the giant oak tree in front of her mother’s grave. She was painted in dappled sunlight, and her tears had long since dried on her cheeks. Part of her wanted to unravel completely, but a bigger part was too tired even for that.
She’d asked her mother’s advice on how to make sense of everything, but there’d been no reply. Apparently psychics were real, but ghosts were not. She wasn’t sure whether she felt cheated or relieved.
A wave of lethargy swept gently over her. She leaned back onto the soft grass and finally unclamped the iron hold she had on her mind and allowed it to freely wander.
One moment she was angry, the next lost. The minute after that she was focused on her throbbing head and tired eyes and the way a butterfly’s paper wings brushed softly against her outstretched leg, but she was too tired to care.
Next came Yaya and a gust of anger, Sully as loyal as ever, and Jane, always Jane for whom she still couldn’t come up with the right words to express the combination of giddy joy and smoldering desire that engulfed Samantha at the mere thought of her. They all took their turns marching through her mind and eliciting a multitude of scattered emotions. And eventually, finally, her father rudely inserted himself among her cascading thoughts.
He had always been unkind and selfish. Always seemed to care more about a brother she hardly knew or a can of beer than he did about her feelings. She wasn’t even sure he realized she had feelings. He’d always been out of reach in every way and yet still managed to pop in and out of her life and disrupt things like a diabolical dog unwilling to drop a contested bone solely because it was his.
And she hated him for it.
But she loved him too.
Even now she could slip into her younger self’s skin and smell the scent of his aftershave as she nuzzled his neck in a hug good-bye.
Then he had crossed the line into unforgiveable and gotten himself run over in the process, and something irreparable and irreplaceable disappeared.
Hope.
Far in the recesses of her mind, there had always been the tiniest shred of hope that he would change, a wispy dream that he would realize his mistakes and somehow make things right between them. And now that was gone. And with it, fled the last chance that things would be different. Their last chance.
It was done.
Samantha’s eyes fluttered closed, and she laid back deeper into the soft grass. She cursed herself for running away from Jane when all she really wanted was to run toward her. She wanted a real relationship. If only Jane could forgive her for, well, everything. If only she could convince herself that she would add to Jane’s life instead of take away from it.
Just when it felt like it was too late and self-doubt would swallow her whole, something deep inside her pushed forward and demanded that she listen. With Jane, it was not too late. She still had a chance, and only a fool would let it slip away. Their chance was still on the table. In life, and even in death, her father had taken so much from her. But Jane, Samantha decided, would not be one of those things. She wouldn’t let her be.
Resolve stronger than any she’d felt before expanded her chest like helium and settled there comfortably. She began to drift away…
The small boy, barely out of diapers, wiped awkwardly at his wet cheeks as the sea breeze kissed his pink face. The salty spray had caused an errant curl to stick to his forehead, and it unstuck itself as he tottered through the sand, determined.
Their eyes met and Samantha’s heart twisted, not with pain, but with unconditional love.
He was hers.
No. The part of her that knew this was a dream caused her to shake her head. That wasn’t quite right either.
The toddler hadn’t followed her order to stay on their beach blanket as she chased after a recalcitrant puppy, and now he was too close to the sea. She should have known. Even at the age of two-and-a-half he had his own mind.
She began to run toward him, her feet slapping loudly against the sand. She got tired quickly these days, and she grunted a little under the effort.
The surf pushed up the shore and nipped at his small toes. “No!” he cried. Gulls flew all around him and picked at the mushed chunks of bread that fell onto the sand from his sticky fingers. They startled him further and caused an onslaught of frustrated tears.
A puppy barked and nipped at her heels as she ran.
The little boy turned and stared at the sea that was alive with motion and spread out in front of him like an undulating blanket.
“Stop!” His mother was going to kill her for not paying enough attention. The guilty thought came unbidden.
Footsteps sounded from behind her.
“Samantha.”
She heard that voice every day. It was her favorite of all the voices on the planet. And right now it was lightly scolding.
“Samantha!”
She was so close to the boy. But this time there was no fear that she wouldn’t get to him in time. No real danger. She’d never gotten this far into the dream, and it didn’t appear to be stopping.
The water retreated, and the boy hiccupped a few times and stopped crying. He grinned at her with familiar gray-blue eyes and a crooked smile.
Her heart sang.
Not her son. Their son.
Samantha scooped him up and, laughing, tossed him in the air a few feet before catching him with delight. Then Jane ran up alongside them. She glimpsed Jane’s face and chuckled again at an arched eyebrow raised high on her forehead and meant as punishment. “Sorry.”
Samantha couldn’t help but drink in the sight of her. The tiniest of lines, from years of laughter, crept out from the corners of Jane’s eyes. Her already boisterous hair was cut a few inches shorter and hopelessly tussled from the wind. The roundness in her cheeks had given way to the lean planes of adulthood.
She’s older, Samantha realized with a start. Maybe in her early thirties, give or take a few years, and even more beautiful.
“Should you really be sprinting now?” Jane teased as she reached out with one hand and tickled their son’s ample belly. He laughed wildly and rested his head on Samantha’s shoulder with a sigh of contentment.
Jane reached under Samantha’s stretchy tank top and placed a warm palm on her protruding belly. A resounding kick came from inside of her, and Samantha’s eyes widened in pure awe.
“Well, good morning to you too, sweetheart.” Jane laughed as she spoke directly to Samantha’s stomach. She glanced up. “You know that now that she’s awake she’s going to kick you until you come and rest.”
Jane playfully nudged Samantha’s shoulder with her own and gently wrapped a loving arm around her alarmingly large waist. “C’mon. I have cold water in the cooler and some galatopita in a Tupperware container. I think I’ve finally perfected the recipe.” Without hesitation, she pushed up to her tiptoes, slid her fingers around the nape of Samantha’s neck and captured her mouth in a soft but thorough kiss.
Samantha sank into it, and a tiny, helpless moan escaped her throat without her permission.
Jane laughed airily. Like this was no big deal. Like they would kiss a million more times. Her voice went a little husky. “Hold that thought.” Then she cleared her throat and turned a more serious gaze on her son. “And you, little man, need to do as you’re told.”
The boy scowled at his mother’s stern tone, but that didn’t stop him from beginning to squirm to be held by her. He leaned forward, chubby arms outstretched recklessly, and Jane took him from Samantha and settled him expertly on one hip.
Frozen in place, Samantha laid her hands on her own belly, where a baby girl wiggled.
Love consumed her.
This had always been just out of reach, snatched away at the last second. But now it seemed so possible. If she were daring and determined, this could be her life. She wasn’t ready to think about a happy ending. But a happy beginning? Yes, please. Yes, please, so long as it was with Jane.
“Sam?”
“Sam?”
“Samantha?”
When Samantha opened her eyes, she was greeted by Jane’s worried face.
“Are you okay?” Jane asked as she sat down beside her. “If you lie out here too long the grounds keeper might run you over with his lawn mower.”
Samantha could hear the light hum of his ride-on motor somewhere in the distance, though he was nowhere to be seen. She sat up and gazed down at her perfectly flat stomach. She was relieved but also felt a sliver of loss. Then she reached up and traced the unlined skin around Jane’s eyes with wonder.
“Umm…” Jane crossed her eyes, trying to see Samantha’s fingers. “What are you doing?”
Samantha drew her hand back and smiled reassuringly. “Nothin’.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Samantha took Jane’s hand and threaded their fingers together. “Didn’t I?”
“No. Are you okay?”
“I’m a little banged up.”
“Not what I meant.”
“Oh. Then, no, I’m not okay. But I will be.” Confidence radiated from her. “How about you?”
Jane sighed, and Samantha could see she was thinking of everything that had happened…and maybe even something else. “The same.”
Samantha braced herself, and she couldn’t help but look away from Jane’s gentle eyes. “Jane, I’m so sorr—” A fingertip pressed against her lips stopped her.
“Don’t. You don’t have anything to apologize for. You’re only responsible for yourself, Samantha. And you saved me.” Jane gave her a devoted look. “At every turn, it was you who helped me.”
“But—”
“No more buts. I want to go forward instead of backward.” Jane squeezed their joined hands. “Please?” She held her breath.
Samantha answered her with a searing kiss. “Yes,” she finally murmured against Jane’s mouth. “Only forward from now on. I promise.”
Jane sighed dreamily and touched her own lips once they’d parted. “Wow. What was that for?”
Samantha beamed. She could do this. She would fight for it. “It was for the galatopita you brought to the beach just for me.”
Jane’s eyebrows drew together. “I’ve never done that.”
Samantha merely shrugged. You will.
“When I found you sleeping here, I called Leola. She’s waiting for you, and you’re going to forgive her.” Jane’s eyes blazed in a way that was meant to offer no choice, but her voice wavered a teensy bit. “She loves you and didn’t mean to make things harder for you. Please. You’ll only hurt yourself by holding onto the anger.”
“I know,” Samantha said, lifting their joined hands and placing a quick kiss on the tender skin on the inside of Jane’s wrist. The sting and anger of Leola not telling her about her dreams was still there, simmering under the surface. But it was buffered by so many years of love and sacrifice that it was cooling quickly. Even when scars remained, she knew they could remind her as much of the healing as they could of the pain. “You’re right.”
Jane gave her a skeptical look. “That was easy.”
“It’s about time something was, doncha think? Besides…” Samantha gazed up through the leaves and at the brilliant blue sky. “I’m starting to think that being with you is a little bit of its own happy magic.”
Jane’s smile started out as confused but then reached unheard brightness. She nibbled her lower lip a bit. “Do you remember when Leola read my fortune earlier this summer?”
“Of course.” The change of subject surprised Samantha, but she rolled with it.
“She used a big crystal ball, and looked and looked, but finally told me that it couldn’t reveal my future.”
“The blind side of the moon.” Samantha hadn’t heard the phrase used since she was a little girl. After all, clients expected results for their money. “That’s what it’s called when the crystal ball is dark and refuses to reveal anything at all. It means your future is still unwritten or too uncertain to see.”
“That’s exactly what Leola said.” Jane fidgeted a little with the hem of Samantha’s shirt. “She also told me something else. Something I haven’t forgotten but didn’t really understand until now.”
Samantha reached out and tucked an errant strand of hair behind Jane’s ear as she nodded for her to continue.
“She said, be strong. Have faith. And remember…Love is the thing that sees you through the blind side of the moon.”
Their gazes met and a lump grew in Samantha’s throat. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
Jane cocked her head quizzically. “I haven’t been your girlfriend?”
“Uh…” Samantha began to flounder.
Jane batted her eyes dramatically.
“I-I…Oh.” Hazel eyes narrowed. “You got me.”
Clearly unable to contain it any longer, Jane burst out laughing. “Yes, silly. I would love to be your girlfriend.” She cupped Samantha’s cheeks with both hands. She used her thumbs to stroke the soft skin, skirting the white bandage on one. Her expression turned serious. “I love you.”
A surge of happiness sang through Samantha, and her pulse sounded loud in her ears. In that moment, no one could convince her that flying actually required wings. “I love you back, Jane. So friggin’ much.”
Their next kiss was electric and didn’t end until the grounds keeper’s mower sounded close and loud enough to make them both jump. Flustered and red-faced, they both stood and apologized, but the man was so old he probably couldn’t see more than ten feet in front of his mower anyway. He looked surprised to see them and gave them a friendly wave before he changed directions completely.
“Careful.” Samantha steadied Jane as she slowly limped down the seashell path. “Jane?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t get me wrong, you always look great and all, but that T-shirt is an odd choice.” Samantha snatched her gaze away from the crop-top tee that was so tight it was positively obscene. She wasn’t complaining. Far from it. She just couldn’t decide whether she wanted to cover Jane up or rip it off.
Her thoughts must have been plain for all to see, because Jane gave her a saucy wink. “I’ll keep it just for you. That reminds me. Aubrey told me something you’re not going to believe.”
“Puh-leeze. After this summer so far? Nothing can shock me.”
Jane’s eyes glimmered with amusement. “Bet you’re wrong.”
“Try me.”