It was unusual for me to be the first one up the next morning, but sleep kept escaping me. I rubbed my eyes and went straight to the kitchen, my stomach grumbling. I reached for a banana in the fruit bowl but picked up the piece of paper lodged between the bananas and the apples. A note from Mom:
Morning girls, I’ve gone for a walk and have something planned for us all. You can have the day off school. Mom xx
Huh. Cool. I put the note back in the bowl and peeled a banana, tore off a brown bit and chucked it into the trash, then devoured the rest in about twenty-five seconds. I went to the front of the house and peered out the window, squinting at the morning light flooding the house. Riley’s house looked cold, dark, empty. Thick drapes were drawn behind the windows, and Leo’s car wasn’t there. Did that guy ever sleep? A car’s engine revving turned my head to the right, and Mr. Jenkins eased out of his garage and onto the road, disappearing around the corner. There would be a couple of empty seats in his science class that day. I breathed deeply, relieved I didn’t have to handle a day of schoolwork and social navigation.
“Savvy, are you okay?” Serena asked as she emerged from the hallway wearing jeans and a blue and white striped top with three-quarter sleeves. We were nearing the end of summer and a slight freshness sharpened the morning air, but still our sunny weather continued. We probably wouldn’t need jackets until the middle of winter.
“I’m fine, why?”
“You’re…awake.”
I snorted. “I know. Weird, huh?” I gestured to her school bag. “You won’t need that. Mom’s letting us have the day off. She left a note saying she has something planned for us.” I grabbed the note from the kitchen and showed her.
Serena sighed. “Oh. So much for being organized and on time.” She retreated to the bedroom to put her bag away, which woke Sasha up. She traipsed into the living room, her wild hair disheveled and mascara smudges under her eyes.
“Someone forgot to wash their makeup off last night,” I said.
She flicked a hand at me. “Wasn’t exactly a priority.”
No, it wasn’t. The news about Dad must have really gotten to her; she was normally fanatical about keeping up her strict nightly skin care routine of cleansing, exfoliating, toning, hydrating, moisturizing, and priming, or whatever else she did. Me, if it couldn’t be done while in the shower, I didn’t bother. There were better ways to spend my time. I grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl and handed it to her; a kind of hope-you’re-okay gesture.
“Thanks,” she slurred, sleep still evident in her voice.
I showed her the note too, which woke her up. “Awesome. Three-day weekend.” She smiled.
Serena reemerged from the bedroom. “Do you think Mom will be okay to perform in the play next weekend?” she asked. “With everything that’s happened.”
“I think so,” I replied.
“Mom wouldn’t give up on something she’s worked hard for. She’ll see it through,” Sasha mumbled while chewing her banana.
“Speak of the devil.” I turned my gaze to the front door as footsteps click-clacked on the front porch and Mom came in, arms burdened with shopping bags and a bunch of flowers.
“I guess you got my note?” she asked, as Talia and Tamara entered the room all sleepy eyed.
“What note?” Talia asked.
Mom walked into the kitchen and offloaded the bags, and then held up the flowers. “No school today. We’re going to do something special. For Dad.” She lifted the flowers to her nose and closed her eyes as she breathed in their scent. “Six white lilies, one for each of us. Since we don’t have a…grave for your father, I thought we could walk over to the cemetery up on the headland and find a spot for him. Somewhere we can go when we want to remember him. And we can each drop a lily into the ocean below, you know, to say good-bye.”
As if Mom’s psychic abilities had returned, she said, “I know you might not be ready to say good-bye, but I think it’s important we do something to acknowledge the fact that he’s gone. Something to at least give us a small sense of closure.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” said Sasha, lifting a lily from Mom’s grasp and bringing it to her nose. “And the day off from school, well, that’s a bonus too.” She winked and Mom smiled.
“Me too,” said Tamara. “Maybe we can go out to lunch afterward?”
“Sure,” Mom said.
“At Harborside?” I asked Tamara with a cheeky grin. She still hadn’t properly met Leo the chef. Maybe I should have taken her with us to the rock-climbing center, although she’d prefer sitting on some rocks in nature and having a picnic than climbing them. I didn’t know if Leo worked the lunch shift as well as nights, though he probably did as many shifts as possible to make ends meet for him and Riley. It couldn’t be easy for them, and I doubted Riley’s video store wages paid much of the bills.
“In the meantime, I need breakfast,” Tamara said. “Why don’t I whip up some scrambled eggs for all of us, yeah?”
“Knock yourself out,” I said.
By nine thirty we were all dressed and ready to walk to the cemetery. After slipping my onyx earrings on, I grabbed my sunglasses and joined the others outside.
We walked via the entrance to the beach, even though it was the long way around. There was no rush; we had time to take the scenic route. The sun warmed my skin as we stepped onto the pathway that led up to the headland. The waves rolled gently onto the shore where children played and parents supervised. An elaborate-looking sandcastle was under construction by a child and his mother, and a vague memory of making one with my dad surfaced in my mind. That’s all I had: snippets of memories, flashes of emotion. The rest was lost in the haze of childhood. I’d been only seven when he disappeared and didn’t really understand why he couldn’t just come home and say, “Girls, look what treats I brought home from the store!” like he used to. Now I understood all too well.
“Looks like we’re not the only ones taking the day off,” Sasha said, pointing to the beach below us.
Riley strolled along the shoreline, his feet ankle deep in the water, sploshing around as he walked.
“I wonder how he’s feeling after last night,” I thought out loud.
“Probably just absorbing it all,” Mom said. “Give it time.”
I chuckled. “That’s what his father said.”
Mom gave me a knowing smile. “Parents often know what’s best.”
I wanted to be with Riley the way we were before—before all this—but that was impossible. Whether we would be able to continue where we left off was unknown. Time would tell if we were supposed to be together or if the whole thing was too weird and uncomfortable for him, knowing what I could do.
The pathway curved around until the sandy beach was no longer in view, only the dazzling purplish-blue water of the ocean below. A fresh breeze whipped my hair around my face and lapped at the cotton of my loose T-shirt. Sasha’s skirt billowed in the breeze, and Mom pulled her sleeves farther down her arms.
My eyes tingled as we neared the cemetery, as if sensing all the souls that had left this earth. Rows of gray headstones lined up, facing the cliff that overlooked the ocean. Funny. The best views in Iris Harbor were had by those who couldn’t really see them. Not the way we could anyway. I knew now they could see them, could see any view, anywhere, no matter where they were buried. A woman arranged a small bunch of flowers in the grate on top of a grave, trying to get the perfect balance. Who was she grieving? Her husband? Child? Mother? Or was she grieving her father like we were? Part of me was jealous that she had somewhere concrete to lay her loved one to rest, secure in the knowledge that he or she was at peace. My dad was still out there somewhere, his body anyway, and I didn’t know if we would ever find him, but I wouldn’t give up. For now, though, it was time to say good-bye to his physical presence, to the hope—the anticipation—that one day he might walk through the door.
Mom stopped at a wooden bench seat that had panoramic views of the ocean, the horizon fading and blending into the sky beyond. “I think this is it. This is his spot.”
Talia sat and caressed the wooden slats. “Yes. It’s perfect. It feels right.”
Mom withdrew keys from her pocket and scratched at the wood on the back of the seat.
“Mom, what are you doing?” Serena asked.
Sasha snorted. “I think our darling mother is vandalizing public property.”
“Oh, I am not, I’m just etching your father’s initials into the seat. I’m sure the Iris Harbor council won’t mind.” She shot us a silly look, and I smiled. Confessing our gift seemed to have brought us closer together. Knowing Mom understood and accepted us, could maybe even help us navigate through this new terrain, was a relief.
“There,” she said, stepping back and revealing “D.D.” permanently engraved into our father’s makeshift resting place.
I glanced around, half expecting Dad to appear and show his approval, but the only people visible were my mom and sisters, and the woman in the cemetery whose hands were now joined in prayer.
The seat was only a yard or so from the cliff’s edge. It wasn’t a straight drop, more of a steep rocky incline, eventually meeting the water whose colliding waves flung themselves upward and slapped against the hard rocks leaving behind a slippery black gloss. My sisters joined Talia on the seat. There wasn’t enough room for all of us at once, so Mom and I stood behind it with our hands resting against the back support. Mom’s hands rubbed against the fresh inscription, a link to her husband.
“Dad would have loved this view,” Mom said. “I hope he can see it.” She glanced at me as if to ascertain whether I could see him nearby.
“I’m sure he can,” I replied, and I knew she knew that meant “no.”
Serena sniffled, and Talia placed a comforting arm around her younger sister.
“What do you remember about him, girls?” Mom asked. “I know you were young, but…”
“We used to play with Legos together,” Serena whispered. “For hours. He’d build these enormous houses and get me to help. He was so patient.”
“I remember that too,” added Sasha. “Though I didn’t have as much patience as you two. I preferred playing with my Barbie dolls!”
“That’d be right.” Serena turned her head to Sasha and smiled.
“He and I used to make double-decker sandwiches,” Tamara said as she held up her hands to indicate size, “this big. We’d put anything and everything on them, and he’d never question what I chose to add. No matter if I put peanut butter with ham and chili sauce, he still took a bite and said it was delicious.”
“Oh yeah, I think you gave me a bite of that one, Tamara,” said Talia. “You said it was a super sandwich and I’d get superpowers. I swore I could jump farther off my bed with that towel hanging from the back of my neck like a cape.” She laughed.
“Well, it must have worked, look at us now.” Tamara glanced around at us all. She was right. We had developed our own kind of superpower.
“What else do you remember, Talia?” Mom asked.
“His hugs.” She squeezed Serena tighter. “Sometimes I can still feel his arms around me, if I close my eyes and concentrate really hard.”
“His smile,” I said. “His wide, happy smile. He had this way of making you feel like everything was all right. Like his smile was some kind of sensing device; when you saw it you just felt…safe. Secure.”
“Oh, I do miss that smile.” Mom put her arm over my shoulder. The white lily hung from her slender fingers next to my neck; its large petals lifted gently in the breeze. “Your smile is very similar to his, Savvy.” She looked at me and I couldn’t help but flash a grin, as though I was channeling Dad and it was actually his smile coming to life through mine.
I looked back to the ocean, the rippling surface sending ripples of emotion through my heart, my body, my soul. Even though Dad was gone, he would always be here, in a way. Just like the ocean: ever present, gracing the world with its gentle presence. Even if you couldn’t see it, you knew it was there, somewhere.
Mom dropped her arm from my shoulder and walked to the edge of the cliff; and like birds flying south, we followed our leader. “David. No matter what happens from now, I will always love you. If you were here, alive, right now, and walked up to me, I would drop everything and be with you. I wouldn’t let you out of my sight. But I know you’ve moved on somewhere new, and I know you might not fully comprehend what’s happened, but you reached out to Savannah, our daughter. You had the strength to show her the truth. That’s a sign that your soul is evolving, coming to terms with whatever happened. When the time is right for you to show us more, we’ll be ready. We’ll be here. You can count on us.”
Mom’s voice quivered and she wiped at her eyes. “Thank you for being a part of my life, for giving me five beautiful daughters, and for being you. I’ll never forget you.” She held the lily up to the sky, and then released it with a calm but definite toss over the cliff, watching as it floated to the rocky, watery depths below. She kissed the palm of her hand and held it out.
One by one my sisters said their good-byes too and tossed their lilies into the ocean. When it came to my turn and I said good-bye, I knew it wasn’t really good-bye. I knew I’d see him again, sometime. I knew he’d find a way to lead us to what happened, to the truth. And I’d be patient. As both Robert Pearce and Mom had said, “Give it time.” Maybe they weren’t only referring to Riley.
See you soon, Dad.
I held the lily to my nose and breathed in its fresh, sweet scent and with the image of Dad’s smile held firmly in my mind, I threw the flower far out into the ocean as though it were a volleyball and I was aiming for the win. It went farther than any of the others. I knew we weren’t in competition, but it was my way of showing Dad how much I loved him. How much I was prepared to do what was necessary to find out the truth, lay him properly to rest, and live the full life that he gave me.
• • •
After a surprisingly happy day with my family, we ordered Chinese food, Dad’s favorite, and sat in the living room in our pajamas playing Monopoly. Serena won, thanks to her cautious and strategic nature, whereas Sasha had long been bankrupt and spent a few too many times in jail. Mom had tried to share some cash with her, but Serena wouldn’t let her. “You have to play by the rules, Mom,” she’d said.
At just after ten, we packed up the game and Mom put on some music, some sort of new agey relaxing stuff that was strangely comforting. A year ago I would have scoffed at it and put on the top-forty countdown instead, but things had changed. I’d changed.
I sipped the last of my hot chocolate when a knock at the door sounded. It was a bit late for visitors. Mom tied up her dressing gown and went to the door, peering first through the window nearby, then unlocking and opening the door. “Riley, hello. How can I help you?” Mom asked, and my eyelids jumped open. He’d never come to the front door before.
“Hi, Mrs. Delcarta, sorry it’s late. I’ve just finished my shift at the video store and was hoping to speak to Volley—Savannah,” he said, and a smile tickled my lips.
“Sure, come on in,” Mom said.
“Oh no, it’s okay, I don’t want to disturb you all. I’ll just wait here,” I heard him say.
I took Mom’s place at the door as she ushered my sisters into the kitchen. “Hi,” I said.
“Hi.” He eyed my outfit, and I resisted a gasp upon looking at my feet; they were covered by fluffy black Cheshire cat slippers. “They suit you,” he said with a hint of a smile.
At least I was wearing my plain stripy pajama shorts and white T-shirt instead of my matching Cheshire cat nightie with the sparkling, glittery eyes.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” he said. “Sorry for being such an ass and calling you a freak.”
I stepped outside onto the porch and closed the front door behind me. “It’s okay; it was understandable. It’s not every day someone tells you what I told you.”
“No, but I should have listened to you instead of demanding you get out of my house. I feel really bad. If I could take it back I would.”
“Hey,” I said. “We can’t change the past, remember?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
“But we can decide how the future might unfold, at least to a certain degree.”
The moon shone high behind him, casting a glow around his body like an aura. Or was it an aura? It had a tinge of blue in it.
“Do you forgive me?” he asked. His eyes were soft and vulnerable. “It’s okay if you don’t, but—”
“I forgive you.”
His shoulders relaxed. “I just wanted you to know how bad I felt. Especially now that I know you’re telling the truth.”
“So you believe me? Those things I told you last night, about your father being with you, you believe it was him?”
“I know it was.”
Wow. A rewarding sense of warmth flooded inside me; and for the first time since I’d developed this gift, I felt like it was making a difference.
“Just like I know the sudden downpour we had earlier today was him. His way of showing me that he was listening, that he was there.”
“What?” It had poured with rain after we tossed our lilies into the ocean and started walking back down the pathway of the headland. Right out of nowhere, clouds had appeared and released their load.
“Yeah, it was amazing. I was sitting on the beach and I asked him for a sign. I know he gave me three back home, but I needed something else, something more. Some way to know he could hear me. I even gave him ideas, like making the breeze go really cold or having one of the children playing in the sand call out my name, or finding a shell in a certain spot. Then I suggested that maybe he could even make it rain, and I was kind of joking because I didn’t really believe that was possible. After a while I gave up and thought maybe he wasn’t really around, that those things back home were just my imagination playing tricks and that somehow you were playing along, so I got up to head back home. Then it started. Big drops of heavy rain poured down on me, and I couldn’t believe it. I laughed like I hadn’t laughed in ages; and while others scurried to get under cover, I stood there and welcomed it.”
Double wow. My smile widened. “So I’ve got you to thank for the drenching I got today, huh?”
“You weren’t at school?”
“Nope. We all had a day off. I hope you know Sasha was very annoyed that her hair went frizzy after the rain.”
He laughed. “Happy to be of service.” Then he shook his head side to side. “I can’t believe this is happening, I mean, it’s so way out. But I do believe it. Somehow, this is real.” He grasped my hands in his. “I believe it. And I believe you.”
His touch and his words sent bubbles of happiness going off in my belly. “I’m glad.”
“So what you said about my dad’s death, you really saw it? You know what happened?”
I nodded. “I did. As I said before, I believe he had a stroke and it was definitely no suicide.”
Riley blinked his eyes tightly and clamped his lips together with a nod. “Thank you,” he said, his eyes glistening in the moonlight and the soft warm glow of our porch light.
“Tell him I would never have left him. I would never have abandoned my children.” My gaze darted to the source of the voice behind Riley. Robert Pearce stood on my front lawn.
“What? What is it?” Riley asked, as I stood there, hypnotized by the sight of someone from the other side. Would I ever get used to this?
I gulped and looked Riley in the eye. “Your dad, he’s here.”
Riley spun around. “Where? He’s here, as in right now? You can see him?” The words blurted from his mouth. “Dad?”
“He’s just there.” I pointed, and Riley turned to face what was invisible to him. “He wants me to tell you that he would never have willingly left you on your own.”
“I know that now. It’s okay,” Riley said. “Can you tell him I’m sorry?”
“You can tell him yourself.”
Riley took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m so sorry, Dad, for thinking the worst. It just seemed the most logical reason for what happened. Everyone agreed and I went along with it.”
“I don’t blame you, son. You were in pain; you needed someone to blame.”
“He says he doesn’t blame you. You were just reacting to the pain.”
“I wish I hadn’t wasted so much time being angry.” Riley lowered his head. “I should have given you the benefit of the doubt.” He rubbed his temples and raised his gaze toward me. “Did anything cause the stroke? Was it stress?”
I raised my eyebrows at Robert, who could hear what Riley was saying.
“Tell him there was nothing I could have done. I’d had really high blood pressure for a while; even the meds weren’t keeping it in check. If it didn’t happen on the road, it might have happened at home. And I’m so glad he and Leo weren’t in the car at the time.”
“He had uncontrolled high blood pressure and thinks it was only a matter of time. He’s glad it was only him in the car,” I recalled his words as best as I could for Riley.
Riley nodded his understanding.
“Also tell him that in that car I was listening to the playlist he’d made for his mother when she was sick. If it’s any consolation, the music provided some comfort for me in those final moments, as it did for her.”
I told Riley, and his eyes widened.
“Do you remember her favorite song on the playlist, Dad?”
I listened to Robert’s answer then repeated it to Riley, “Let it Be.”
His face softened with emotion, and he shook his head in amazement.
“You need to live the life that I couldn’t, Riley. Don’t waste it being angry or sad, make the most of it. There are so many good years ahead of you.” He spoke directly to Riley and approached him, his hand outstretched. He rested it against his son’s shoulder, which twinged a little. The sight gave me goose bumps.
“He says you need to make the most of your life, don’t be angry or sad anymore. There is so much more for you to experience.”
“I will, Dad, I will. I won’t let you down.”
“You could never let me down.” He placed his other hand on Riley’s other shoulder, and Riley’s hand made its way on top of it, as though he sensed his touch.
“Riley, your dad’s hands are on your shoulders.”
Riley’s eyes widened. “I can feel them. Just…like a feather.”
“He says you could never let him down.”
Riley smiled. “Is Mom there with you?”
I listened to Robert and translated for Riley. “He says he’s seen her but hasn’t crossed over yet to where she is. He wanted to make sure you’d be okay first.”
“I’ll be okay, Dad. I am okay. Go to her. Say hi from me; tell her I miss her, please?”
“He will,” I said.
“Keep an eye on him, will you?” Robert said to me. “Don’t let him forget what I’ve said.”
“I won’t.”
“What’s he saying?” Riley questioned.
I flicked my hand. “Oh, he just wants you to keep up the good singing in the shower.” Riley’s eyes widened. “I’m kidding! He told me to make sure you remember this, remember what he said.”
“How could I forget it?” Riley held up his hand gently, and Robert touched it, though it looked more like it was merging with it. Then Robert took a few steps back.
“The other Savannah is waiting for me,” Robert said to me with a wink.
I smiled. “I wish I could have met her.”
He waved at me then looked at his son and did some kind of hand movement, like sign language. His hand curved over in an arc, and then his thumb pointed backward as though he was pointing to something behind him.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Show Riley, he’ll tell you,” he replied.
With curiosity creasing my brow, I lifted my hand. “Riley, your dad said to show you this.” I copied the hand movement he’d done.
Riley crumpled to his knees and a tear fell from his eye. “Over and out.” He repeated the movement himself and said it again, “Over and out.”
I glanced at Robert who’d moved farther backward and had tears of joy in his eyes. His smile was wider than the stretch of ocean on the horizon. Riley sat on the grass, and I joined him, putting my arm around him.
“Dad used to do that hand signal when I was a kid. I can’t remember how old I was…”
“You were four,” Robert said.
“Four years old?” I asked.
“Yeah, about that. Anyway, I’d had a string of bad ear infections and it affected my hearing for a while. My parents were worried my speech might not progress as it should, and they taught me some sign language. Even after my hearing returned, we continued using some of the signs. This particular one, Dad had made up himself.” Riley did it again. “He’d do it after putting me to bed, instead of saying good-night, he’d say “Over and out.” It became our thing.”
“That’s so sweet.” I glanced up at Robert and smiled, his body fading slightly. “I think he’s doing it now, not to say good-night, but to say…” I couldn’t get the word out.
“Good-bye,” Riley said, his eyes looking distant. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and then he spoke again. “It’s okay, Dad. I understand. It’s time to go.”
“I love you, Son. And when Leo is ready for the truth, tell him I love him too.” Robert turned away, and I repeated his words to Riley.
“I love you too, Dad.” Robert turned halfway around at his son’s words, and Riley’s gaze looked right at where his father stood, as though he could see him too. Robert did a final over and out, and Riley’s hands did the same. Their final one. Their last good-bye. And it brought a tear to my eye.
“Thank you,” Riley said to me, and I gave him a you’re-welcome smile. When I turned my gaze back to Robert, he was gone.
“Is he…” Riley asked.
I nodded. “He’s gone.”
Riley’s chest expanded as he sucked in a sharp, deep breath and released it loosely as his head dropped into his hands. I took his hands in mine; the moisture from his tears ran across my palm. We sat like that together until his breathing returned to a normal rhythm, and he turned his head toward mine.
“What about your dad?” he asked.
“It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about that. Tonight’s about you and your dad.”
“No, I want to know. When you mentioned that you saw him, I still didn’t believe; and there you were suffering and I didn’t even help you.”
“It’s okay. A lot happened that day.”
“So, you’ve seen him, just like my dad?”
“Yep. Just once.”
“Did he tell you what happened to him?”
“Nope. But I’m sure one day we’ll find out.” There was no need to burden him with how Dad had warned us about someone.
“I’m sorry. I mean, I guess it’s good in a way that you know for certain he’s gone, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”
“There is a sense of relief, and at least there’s a bit of closure—but yeah, it’s hard.” I hung my head. “But we gave him a nice send-off today on the headland at the edge of the cemetery. We made a ‘spot’ for him on one of the bench seats.”
“That’s good. Now you’ll have somewhere to go when you want to feel close to him.”
“Yeah.”
Riley’s gaze narrowed. “So you all gave him a send-off? Your Mom too?”
“Um, yeah. I told her.”
“About seeing your dad? And she believed you?”
I smiled. “She did.” I resisted telling him about my mother’s past experience as a psychic. I wasn’t sure if she wanted other people to know, especially now that her abilities had faded. “She knows about all of us.”
“That’s right. You said it’s not just you. That all your sisters have this ability too.”
“Yes, can you believe it?” I asked.
“Right now, I’d believe anything.” He grinned.
“None of my sisters can see spirits, only me. And when we sense something, I’m the only one who sees things. Serena can hear things, Sasha smells things, Tamara tastes things, and Talia can feel things. Five sisters. Five senses.”
“One awesome gift,” Riley added.
I smiled. “I’m starting to think you might be right on that.” I hugged him closer and he slid his arm around my waist as we sat there on the grass, my legs cold in the night air and my fluffy slippers looking out of place in the outside world. A satisfied buzz vibrated inside. I’d made a difference. This bizarre, unexpected gift we’d been given had actually helped someone. Maybe it wasn’t the traumatic thing we’d thought it was. Along with my sisters, I could really help people and give them peace of mind and closure. If that was the case, then it would be worth it. As for that other vision of the fire, it had yet to happen. Maybe it wouldn’t happen. Maybe by helping Riley we’d somehow affected the future, changed it from what it would have been to what it was meant to be. I could only hope.
Riley nudged me with the side of his body. “So, ah, do you think you can predict my future?” He eyed me both hopefully and cautiously.
I tapped my chin with my finger. “Hmm…let me see.” I rolled my eyes upward and pretended to think, then moved my fingers to his face and ran them across his cheekbone. “I do foresee something in your future.” I leaned closer. “This.”
When my lips were only an inch away from his, he intercepted and put his finger on them. “Wait,” he said. “I’m just getting over a bad cold; I don’t want you to catch it.”
I kissed his finger and said, “I don’t care. I’ve been through heaps worse than a bad cold. I can handle it. And maybe I won’t catch it anyway.”
“Believe me, the first day was a shocker. I was both hot and cold—with the chills—and I had a major sore throat. And the number of tissues I went through, you don’t wanna know, and—”
“Riley.” I matched his previous gesture and put my finger on his lips. “Shut up and kiss me.”
The corners of his mouth turned upward into a smile, as did mine. He leaned toward me and my smile met his in one sweet, luscious, unforgettable kiss. Our first had been just like heaven, but this was better. It was heaven on earth.