Page 62 of Distant Shores (Stapled Magnolias #2)

ADAIR

O n the morning of my twenty-ninth revolution around the sun, I woke in a cold bed to the memory of a warm kiss.

The soft sheets made a swishing sound as I sent a probing hand out, seeking that warmth. Frowning when I didn’t find it, I reached for my glasses and pushed myself up in her bed.

The room was empty, morning light streaming through the windows, and my crutch was waiting for me, propped against the windowsill, with a note on top.

I flung the covers off and reached for it.

“Often when you think you’re at the end of something, you’re at the beginning of something else.” —Fred Rogers

Happy Birthday, Adair.

P.S. I got up early and had to bribe Cole not to “give you a birthday morning you wouldn’t soon forget.”

P.P.S. You’ll have to break the news to him that this is my job now. Or will be, this evening.

I hurried out of bed and got ready as quickly as possible, thankful Ireland had left the crutch out for me. My ankle wasn’t hurting, per se, but it was tender despite how careful I’d been while we were busy being… not careful.

A wall of sound crashed over me when I stepped out of my bedroom door with my boot back on.

Cole and Delly were standing in the living room as if they’d been waiting for me, huge smiles on their faces as they yelled all kinds of birthday wishes.

Delly elbowed Cole aside viciously to get to me first.

“Happy Birthday, big brother,” she said, this time at a normal volume, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“Happy Birthday, little sister,” I said, hugging her back.

She snorted. “We’re not doing that dumb joke still.”

“Sure,” I said with a smile and a shrug.

Cole squeezed me next. “Happy Birthday, best friend.” His clothes were wrinkled, and his hair was a mess, half pulled back with strands poking out in every direction.

“You didn’t sleep, did you?”

He scoffed. “Sleep is for the weak. But I did listen to some great podcasts while I worked. With my big headphones. Over my ears. At maximum volume. So, yeah, I?—”

Cole grunted as Delly elbowed him again, cutting him off.

Glancing past them and ignoring that , I found Ireland leaning on the opening between the living room and kitchen, barefoot and arms crossed over her chest, a tiny smile on her face as she watched us.

“I didn’t miss your visit to Beck, did I?” I asked, stepping around Delly and Cole. I hadn’t even looked at the time. She could’ve left that note a while ago, taking the decision out of my hands.

She shook her head.

I let out a relieved breath, then glanced at Delly, who was in her scrubs for work.

Right . If she was still here, that meant it was still early early.

My gaze flicked back to Ireland, raking over every inch of her.

At the smooth skin I’d touched and the hair I’d washed and dried.

The body I’d held all night. She was in her usual dark jean shorts and a sleeveless shirt today, tattoos I’d traced with my tongue on display.

Her hair was down, one side tucked behind her ear, an arc of earrings on display.

As she tipped her head toward the kitchen table, I followed her gaze and found a stack of presents there.

Cole and Delly stood on either side of me, and I wasn’t sure whose hand pushed me toward the table, but I went.

“I need to get over to work,” Delly said, pulling out a chair and guiding me to it. “So, let’s save mine for tonight. Happy Birthday again,” she said, bending down and hugging me once more. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Want me to drive you over?” Ireland asked my sister quietly, but she shook her head.

“It’s a nice day. I’ll board.”

I smiled as I watched them, pleased that Ireland was comfortable driving my car and thoughtful enough to make sure Delly was taken care of.

“Mine is kinda tied in with your girl’s,” Cole said, patting me on the shoulder. “But I’ll give you my other one tonight, too, babe, so don’t worry. Aaaand, okay, yeah, I’m starting to see sound, so I’m gonna go crash for a bit.”

He waved over his shoulder as he sauntered right into my bedroom, closing the door with a snick .

I wondered what sound looked like to him as I stared at the presents because it was a better idea to muse on, maybe, than the implication that he knew my bed was a safe spot for him to nap.

Ireland brushed a hand over my shoulder and leaned down to plant a sweet, lingering kiss on my lips. I breathed into it, grasping her jaw and holding her there for a moment longer.

“Here,” she said, handing me a heavy, wrapped package after one more kiss. “There’s another thing later, but this is the one Cole was talking about.”

I carefully removed the shiny wrapping paper, wondering how in the world they managed this without me noticing.

“Cole sent it to me yesterday afternoon,” Ireland explained quietly. “And I was able to print it at the Locc.”

It was the picture of me, Pops, and Delly from yesterday, inside the frame she’d shown me before. The one that’d disappeared from the coffee table a few days after she’d told me about Ari’s husband passing.

“ Baby ,” I said quietly, looking up at her. “This….” I ran my hand over the smooth wood. “…it’s important to you.”

She just smiled mysteriously and said, “Be right back,” before disappearing.

I looked back down at the photo, at the smiles on our faces.

That was my entire family. The three of them, the other two people in this house, and Beck too.

He and I needed to have a conversation very soon .

I didn’t hear Ireland return, her footsteps silent as always, but I sensed her right before she slid another frame onto the table.

It was the exact same, except this one still had the napkin drawing Beck had done of me with a human top half and seahorse bottom half.

Lordy, what was that conversation with him going to look like? Seahorses did mate for life, though, so maybe it was a good omen.

“I made the new one,” she said, tapping her finger on it. “Gil had instructions printed when he did this class, and I found them.”

I ran my finger over the smooth wood. “Thank you, Indigo. I really love it.”

“I printed an extra copy of the photo to hang up in their apartment, plus one of me and Dad. Wanna take them over there?”

“I really do,” I said, setting the frame carefully on the table and scooting my chair back. “After one more kiss, I think.”

She laughed, a pleased flush on her cheeks as she slid herself into my lap.

“I wish I’d known it was your birthday all those weeks ago. Then I would’ve kissed you that day like I wanted to.”

Her expression was serious as her gaze roamed over my face, her fingers already toying with the ends of my hair. “I don’t know if I would’ve been ready then,” she said softly. “I was barely a person.”

I squeezed her to me. “I know that should make me sad, and it does, but… I just love your brain. I know I’ve told you that, but I mean it. I’ve met so many people, spent years working a job where people lied to me about the dumbest shit, hurting themselves because of it.”

She looked taken aback, but I just shrugged .

“You tell the truth. As you know it, as soon as you know what it is. It’s beautiful. Now, ” I said, moving on before I rambled too much, “about that kiss….”

Ireland’s game face was on the moment we got out of the Jeep. I sensed her smiles wouldn’t come as freely here as they did at home, but when I knocked on the door of Apartment 3A, that wasn’t the case.

She beamed at me like I’d just given her the moon.

Standing tall on my dumb scooter, I drank it in, wondering what exactly I’d done to warrant such a reaction as the door slowly swung open.

My heart skipped in anticipation when I realized it was Pops. Not just for him to see the photo, but for him to just see… us. Me and Ireland, together. Especially after our talk by the fountain yesterday.

I reached for her hand, and she took it, squeezing hard even as her smile slipped off her face. Was she not ready for this? Her eyes went from the doorway to me, and she pressed her lips together, something like an apology in her eyes.

“Good morning, Pops,” I said, finally peeling my gaze from Ireland.

He met my eyes for only a second, then turned his head away, dismissing me with a slight frown. Ireland stepped in front of me, keeping hold of my hand. “Mind if we come in?”

She couldn’t quite hide my view, being several inches shorter, but it felt like that was what she was trying to do.

It was enough of a red flag for my stomach to squeeze.

Pops stepped aside for her, and she tugged my hand before walking inside. I followed, my brain not quite caught up to what was happening yet, though my body had. My heart beat loudly in my ears, muffling the world around me, and a cold sweat broke out on my hairline.

The door shut softly, and I just stood there, looking out the window, not seeing a damn thing.

Ireland raked her nails lightly down my spine, bringing me back to myself enough to take care of the basics. Falling back on what I knew, I did a quick scan of Pops, assessing his coloring, his breathing.

All appeared normal.

Sensing my gaze, he slowly raised his to mine, and that’s when I realized what I was seeing. Or not seeing.

Recognition.

Wilbur Smith was here, but my Pops wasn’t. Just like at the ravine all those months ago, when he couldn’t find his way back home.

“ I couldn’t remember.”

A shiver crawled up my spine as I forced the images away, looking for Ireland and finding her beside me with her deep blue eyes already fixed on me.

She gave me a tiny nod, and that was somehow enough to allow air into my lungs.

“We brought you a gift,” she told Pops, turning to him and pulling out a chair at the table.

She guided him into it with aching tenderness before taking the one beside him.

“I gave Addy the same one for his birthday,” she said, smoothing the glossy photo on the table. “But I figured you might want one too.”

Addy .

The name he called me. One she’d never used.