Page 11

Titusville, Virginia

Wednesday afternoon

Rebel understood how a young, beautiful woman like Sasha could focus a man’s brain on his honeymoon. He texted back: No problem. Take as long as Sasha wants. Autumn, Tash, and I are having a great summer. He misses you, of course.

Tash bloomed out a huge smile. “Another month? That’s great.”

Rebel said, “He said Sasha wants to go to Cannes.”

Tash said, “Yes, I know. Autumn says that’s on the Mediterranean.”

Autumn said, “Sir, did Mr. Navarro agree to Tash living here with you forever?”

“It isn’t Dad, Uncle Rebel, it’s her. She doesn’t want me around.” He gave a little shrug. “And Dad will do what she wants.”

Rebel smiled at the pretty little girl, the image of her mother, Joanna. He’d asked her yesterday about her mean uncle with the weird name—Blessed—that Tash had mentioned, asked her who he was. She’d frozen, given him a deer-in-the-headlights look, mumbled something he couldn’t understand, and was out the door the next second. He was still curious, but he didn’t want to embarrass her again. Maybe Tash would tell him more.

Then Tash spurted out, “But I’m not like him exactly, Uncle Rebel. I’m prescient, that’s the word Autumn told me. And I’m not nasty or mean and neither is Autumn.”

Tash nodded, looking wary.

Tash nodded. “I saw the ball go in and you laughed.”

Tash nodded. “My mama.”

“Dad brought me in the bedroom to say goodbye to her. The doctor said she was unconscious and I knew she meant Mama wouldn’t wake up again. She was never going to wake up, she was just going to die. I knew my dad was trying really hard not to cry. But, Uncle Rebel, when I took her hand I knew she was still there and she was scared, so I sang her the lullaby she sang to me every night when I was little, in my head. Then she opened her eyes and smiled at me and said my name and told me she loved me.” Tash started crying, deep wrenching sobs.

He, the writer, again didn’t know what to think, what to do. He heard himself say, “Who’s Dillon?”

He had to talk to Joanna Merriweather.

The next morning, just as Rebel was going to text his brother, he looked up to see Autumn standing in the doorway of his study.

“Good morning, Autumn. Where’s Tash?”

“He’s in the bathroom. I didn’t want him to hear this about his father. He’s only a little kid.”