Page 113 of The Guest Cottage

Relieved to see her mother-in-law returning to her old self, Marlow nodded. “Yes, you did. Others might have done business with Aston or Dylan, but they knew you were the one with the final say.” Whereas Aston could negate or approve Dylan’s moves, he’d never had that power with Sandra. Just the opposite. “You are, and always will be, a force in Heddings’ Holdings.”

“Damn right.”

They shared a smile, a sign of the first genuine camaraderie between them in all the time they’d known each other.

“Were you really not happy with us?” Sandra asked.

“For a long time, I thought I was.” Her mother-in-law deserved nothing but the truth. “If things hadn’t happened as they did with Dylan, I’d be there still. Now, though, living here, I realize that this is the place I’m truly meant to be. I do the simplest things, like walking on the shoreline or watching the sunrise, and it . . .” Marlow felt silly saying it, yet she knew it was true. “It fills me up.”

Sandra glanced around with skepticism. “If it pleases you, then I’ll try to be happy for you.”

“Thank you.” As the old bitterness faded away, Marlow said with sincerity. “I’m so glad you came by.”

“I am, too.” After a slight hesitation, Sandra admitted, “I’ve missed you.”

Shocking, and yet Marlow believed her. Despite all the strife that had been between them, she knew Sandra saw her as a link to Dylan. After all, for nearly ten years they’d been mother-in-law and daughter-in-law.

This place, Marlow realized, really was magical. It had changed her, softened her edges and breathed fresh life into her dreams. It had opened the door to new possibilities. Could it do the same for Sandra? In this particular moment, Marlow believed it could.

Reaching across the table, she touched Sandra’s hand. “Have you ever seen fireflies?”

Sandra blinked. “The insects?”

“Yes. The ones with the glowing butts.”

Sandra’s lips twitched. “Years upon years ago, I used to go out with my sister at my grandmother’s house. There were fields around her home, and we would play for hours. Mostly we’d find crickets and butterflies, but I recall seeing fireflies toward evening a few times. The entire field lit up, and my sister told me they were fairies, but I knew better.” Sitting back with a sigh, Sandra whispered, “I’d all but forgotten about that. I think I was only four, maybe five.”

“Well, I’m thirty-five and I still love seeing them.”

A peaceful expression settled on Sandra’s face. “Perhaps sometime I could see them with you.”

The perfect opening! “I’d enjoy that. Let’s plan on it.”

Reluctantly, Sandra slid back her chair. “For now, I should get going. It gets dark early here, with all the trees and hills.”

When she opened her purse, Marlow stopped her. “Drinks are on me this time.”

Instead of debating, Sandra smiled. “Next time will be my treat.”

“So there will be a next time?”

“To see the fireflies.” Seconds ticked by, and then Sandra met her gaze. “And I’d like to meet my grandson.”

There were numerous ways Marlow could reply. She could point out that it was up to Pixie. That it was about time. She could warn Sandra that she’d have to be on her best behavior. For now, none of that felt necessary.

Instead, she asked, “How long did you know about him?”

“I had no idea,” Sandra swore. “I knew Pixie was around and I despised her. I blamed her for everything—and yes, now I realize that was unfair.” She closed her eyes as pain pinched her features. “To think I tried to drive her away, to keep her from being able to work . . .”

While Sandra seemed so receptive, Marlow briefly explained everything Pixie had gone through. “She could have lost the baby, and she could have died.”

“Dear God.”

“She literally had no resources, no place to turn—so she came to me. I know it angered you that I helped her, but Sandra. . .” Praying Sandra would understand, that she’d accept the reality of the situation, Marlow asked softly, “How could I not?”

“Indeed.” Brisk now, she folded her hands on the table in a businesslike way. “Aston told me what he did. I think he was caught up in the moment and then he regretted it. He said . . .” She chewed her lips a moment. “He said he was afraid to believe the baby was our grandson. His heart was still shattered, he—we—are still hurting over our loss. I don’t think he was ready to take on more.”

“I’m glad he told you about it. He offered Pixie a lot of money, but she wants a real life, with friends.”

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