Page 90 of Waiting For A Girl Like You
There had been just a single hitch in their plans. The weather. A cold front swept in the night before, and their extravagant wedding gowns weren’t made for wind chill. But wrapped in flannel blankets, they had their ceremony anyway, shivering and smiling.
Showing up at the last minute, as only a true Fairweather would, Ben came swooping in with a professional photographer in tow. Miranda had been nervous at first, already unsettled by having an officiant present, but Josie had thanked him for thinking ahead. Deep down, she knew Ben had done it for Samuel. Their boy would need evidence of the day because time was the cruelest of thieves. It made quick work of stealing precious memories, erasing them from the mind in the most merciless of ways.
After that impossibly perfect day was over, Josie took them to the North Carolina coast. Parkland Grounds, while a huge part of their lives, was theirs no longer. They said goodbye to the manor home, trading it for the small beach house she and Miranda loved so much.
A cozy, quiet place to say goodbye.
In the beginning, they continued to have fun, albeit on a smaller scale. The summer days were spent doing everything and nothing at all. Movie marathons and lazy afternoons ruled. A board game here. A puzzle there. But their favorite pastime, without question, was people-watching from the back deck.
Well, Samuel was girl-watching, but close enough.
“I wonder what kind of woman he’ll end up with,” Miranda had mused one evening as they sat cuddled under a blanket, watching Samuel surfing his final wave. “Orhow many womenif he turns out to be anything like his father.”
Josie nudged her shoulder. “Remember that Christmas LJ said she thought Evie and Samuel would end up together someday? That was hilarious.”
Miranda had smiled at the memory, but it faltered a beat later. “That was our last good Christmas. We were all so hopeful.”
“Life changes in an instant.” Josie had nothing more to say, no other words to give. They’d hashed it out a thousand times, talking through the pain so that they could live their days and not wastethem. “But here we are, still talking about LJ and her crazy ideas. We’ll always love and remember her.”
“Yeah, we will.” Miranda wiped away a tear just as she burst into laughter when a wave took Samuel down hard. “He needs someone like her. Not Evie exactly, but someone who won’t back down. Someone just as stubborn as he is.”
She wasn’t wrong. Samuel was at that messy midpoint of adolescence—bullheaded and sensitive in equal measure. He had time for fun now, time to surf and flirt and stumble through these last bits of childhood, but there would come a day when he’d need someone to help him find his footing.
They would have to help guide him.
No.
Notthey.
There would be no morethey.
This was the end.
Their time was up.
It would only be her from now on. She would have to do it alone, without Miranda’s calming nature to keep them steady.
Ben would be there. That was a given. Ben was always there for his son, but it wasn’t the same. Samuel wanted nothing more than to impress his father, and never truly permitted his vulnerability to show.
“Josie?”
“He stopped to talk to the girls.” Leaning against the balcony door frame, Josie smiled at Samuel’s attempts to act smooth and flirt. “Oh, goodness. He’s nervous. I can see that rash on his neck blooming from here.”
Miranda’s laughter floated through the air, warm and raspy. Josie stepped away from the door and returned to the bed, reaching for her hand.
“Go ahead and rest a little. He’ll be inside soon,” Josie told her as Miranda’s eyes drifted closed. “Then I’ll make him lunch.”
Samuel was the only one eating these days. Josie’s stomach stayed tied in knots, and Miranda... well, eating was something only the living did, or so the hospice nurse said. The dying, if they chose to partake, only did so to make those around them feel more comfortable.
There was a crash on the first floor. Samuel had yet to learn how to do things gently and always managed to knock a few things over whenever he slammed the back door.
“Mom!”
His size fourteen feet thundered on the stairs. He never liked leaving Miranda for long, only surfing when she forced him to take a break.
“I caught a barrel wave!” Soaked and still in his wetsuit, Samuel skidded to a halt at their bedroom entrance. “And I didn’t wipe out!”
Miranda’s eyes stayed closed, her voice thin as she smiled. “That’s so wonderful.”
