The Beautiful Daughters (36 page)

Will was asleep, or at least, his eyes were closed. His left arm was suspended in a sling from a system of pulleys above the bed, and there was so much metal sticking out of his wounded limb that he looked like a character in a science fiction movie. The poor guy who got abducted by aliens and became the lab rat for their barbaric experiments.

Harper didn't know that it would crush her to see Will so broken, so vulnerable. Or that the hollow place where her heart was supposed to be would fill to overflowing in the instant he opened his eyes. It was irrepressible. Complete.

“Harper?” Will said. His voice was thick and pebbly. He cleared his throat.

“Shhh.” Harper put her finger to her lips and navigated the tiny room until she was standing beside the bed. She looked down at Will's handsome face, the features she knew so well that suddenly seemed so very different. His eyes were indigo in the dim light, framed by the laugh lines that made him look happy even when he wasn't smiling. His hair, just a bit too long, fanned out on the white pillow like a flame. She couldn't stop herself from touching it, from taking a strand of it between her fingertips and rolling it against her skin.

“Harper, I—”

But she didn't let him finish. Harper leaned down and kissed his open mouth. He tasted of peppermint. Of her future.

She said, “I'm going to count that as our first kiss.”

Epilogue

A
dri could see the wave coming for a full minute before it was upon her. It was perfect: wide and high, but not more than she could handle. If she had a board, she would have waited for the next set, for the waves that were already crashing on the rocks far beyond the breakers—the ones that would form again and slap the shore with a power that left her breathless. But this was exactly the way to end the day. A long, slow ride up the beach on a wave that would carry her effortlessly.

A few hard strokes, a strong scissor kick, and Adri was a part of the ocean, if only for a few wild seconds. Before she could run out of breath, the wave broke and thundered gallons of water over her head. Up her nose and in her ears. Then all at once she was deposited on the orange sand beach, laughing like a little girl.

Robert was dancing over her, laughing too, because he loved to watch her body-surf. Sometimes she took him into the ocean with her, it was good for his joints, but he could never quite get used to it. He clung to her for dear life, and on nights like tonight, when the moon was already full and the sea had a mind of its own, it was safer for him to play in the sand while she swam. To watch. To giggle at the crazy white lady and her incomprehensible love of water.

“You did it!” Robert shouted as Adri picked herself up. There was sand in her swimsuit and her hair had washed over her face, but she ignored those details and wrapped the boy in a wet hug.

“You'll do it someday, too,” she told him, using one hand to flip her hair back in the right direction. “You're going to be a great swimmer.”

“And a great doctor,” he said proudly. It was something he often claimed, a litany that required her to smile, kiss his head, give the expected answer.

“The best,” she assured him, squeezing even tighter. She dropped a kiss on the top of his warm, dark head. Just like she was supposed to do. Just like she loved to do.

Adri could tell that his legs were bothering him, so she toweled off quickly and bent down so Robert could climb onto her back. She didn't mind carrying him, and sometimes felt that she would do it forever if only he would let her. But Robert was eleven, past the years of cuddles and coddling, even though he was more affectionate than most of the boys. The piggyback rides were the ideal compromise.

In fact, the entire setup was the ideal compromise. If Adri could have her way, she'd adopt every kid in the series of orphanages where she worked, but there were more than two hundred of them. Two hundred children she loved as dearly as if they were her own. She had to settle for house dates, for days and weeks, sometimes months when she got to plug in with an individual child or two who needed special attention. Robert had sickle cell anemia, and after a particularly bad flare-up he had come to live in the bungalow on the beach. He had been hers for over six weeks. Well, theirs.

Caleb was walking down the beach toward them, a dishcloth slung over his shoulder and a cell phone in his hand. “It's Harper!” he called, waving the phone at her. “Do you want to take it?”

Adri ran the rest of the way, Robert jostling on her back and snickering all the while. “You take the boy,” she said, breathless, “and I'll take the phone.”

Caleb laughed and lifted Robert off her back. “Bedtime, young man,” he said, settling Robert onto the ground. The boy slipped his hand into Caleb's. Looked up at him adoringly. “And there's some banana cake on the table for you,” Caleb told Adri. “I saved you the last piece.”

She stood on tiptoe to kiss him full on the mouth, a passionate moment that stretched and evolved until Robert slapped them both on the hands and laughed.

“Okay, okay.” Adri ran her fingers over the boy's shaved head, stole one last kiss from Caleb.

“And don't talk too long,” Caleb said, finally handing her the phone. “We have to be up early tomorrow.”

“I know.” Adri took the phone with a wink, and held it against her shoulder as she watched Caleb and Robert walk hand in hand up the grassy slope to the road and the little bungalow that glowed bright in the deepening twilight. Then she spread her towel on the sand and laid back to watch the stars as they began to prick tiny holes in the black canvas of the night. “Hey, Harper,” she said, pressing the phone to her ear.

“Is Robert still living with you?” Harper asked without preamble. “He's been with you guys for a while now, hasn't he?”

“A month and a half,” Adri admitted. “I'm having a hard time letting go.”

“I'll say. Is this the longest?”

“Yeah, I think so.” But Adri knew so. She knew that Robert had found a special place in their hearts, a place that would only ever be occupied by him.

“Maybe you can adopt him . . .”

“Maybe someday,” Adri agreed, but it wasn't a possibility. Not yet. “How are things going at Piper's House?”

Harper's voice took on a lustrous quality that was evident even from even six thousand miles away. “We have another girl.”

“You do?” Adri didn't know whether to be sad or excited. When the Safe House approached Harper about becoming a case worker several months after Sawyer Donovan's trial and conviction, neither of the women could have guessed how the relationship would unfold. And a year after that, when it became obvious that the Safe House was outgrowing its narrow walls, everyone was surprised when the perfect solution presented itself. Piperhall had sat empty for nearly two years. Adri's inspiration finally hit. A home for lost girls, girls exactly like the Piper of Piperhall fame. And Victoria and Adri and Harper.

“She's fourteen, Adri.” Harper sounded heartsick. “Fourteen.”

“I love you,” Adri said suddenly. “I love what you're doing. You take good care of her, okay? You love the life back into that sweet thing.”

“We're working on it,” Harper said.

There was a scuffle and some words that Adri couldn't make out, then Harper said, “Will's here. He wants to talk to you.”

“Put him on.”

“Okay. Take good care of Caleb, Adri. And Robert, too. See you guys soon.”

“ 'Bye.”

“Adri?” Will always seemed to feel the need to shout, as if the greater the distance between them, the louder he had to be.

“I'm here, Will. Take it down a notch or two.”

More shuffling. A door being shut. “Gotcha. Say, I gotta skip all the hi and how are you stuff and get right down to it. Did you mean what you said in your email?”

“Every word,” Adri said, a smile in her voice. “It's yours. She's going to love it.”

“But David gave Mom's ring to you. I don't want to—”

“Will,” Adri interrupted. “Shut up. It's yours. Give it to Harper so that she can plan a wedding before we come out at Christmas. We're expecting a Christmas wedding, you know. Trees and tinsel and lights and everything that goes with it. Eggnog. Tell me you'll serve eggnog at your wedding.”

“Sure,” Will laughed. “Whatever you want, little sis.”

Adri's throat suddenly felt tight, and though she tried to squeeze back the tears that threatened at the corners of her eyes, it was no use. They spilled down her temples, adding salt to the ocean water already in her hair. Maybe Caleb wouldn't notice that she had been crying. Or maybe he would smooth the faint trails of her tears, kissing the twin paths that curled away from her eyes. She hoped for the latter.

They hung up quickly after that, Will afraid of being caught by Harper, and Adri well aware that morning would come altogether too quickly. She clicked off the call and held the phone against her forehead, saying a breathless, wordless prayer for Harper and Will. And Sam. Jackson, Nora, and little Emma. Caleb and Robert and herself.

Adri stood up and grabbed the towel that was scented with her suntanned skin and shook it out hard before folding it over her arm. She picked her way through the night to the bungalow and the man she called home.

To the place where in the morning, all that was darkness would be made light.

Acknowledgments

I
loved writing
the beautiful daughters
. It was so fresh and exciting; i often felt like a debut novelist instead of the author of seven previous books. Much of my delight in the process was fueled by friends, critique partners, and family members, who championed this particular work and encouraged me along the way. I owe them all a debt of gratitude (as well as wine and goodies and my undivided attention the next time we meet). I hope to mention everyone here, but if i overlook someone, please forgive me. You know who you are. I adore you.

A big hug to the ladies of my local writing group. Kelly Youngblood, Jen Sandbulte, Susan Stanley, Nikolyn Kredit, Lila Sybesma, and Ashlee Koedam never cease to amaze me with their insight and enthusiasm. They are wise and gifted and so much fun. I hope we are together for years as we take turns celebrating one another's victories.

Kellie Coates Gilbert, Roberta Gately, and Andrea Lochen read early editions of the manuscript and offered sage advice when it was desperately needed. I am so grateful they were willing to take time out of their own busy schedules to help me find my way.

The talented Elizabeth Blackwell has also been an early reader, cheerleader, sounding board, and friend. I wish we lived closer so our phone dates could be face-to-face with coffee, but near or far, I couldn't ask for a better publishing sister to help me navigate the waters.

Kate Brauning is my writing partner and unofficial social media guru. I'm so thankful for her advice and expertise, but her friendship has trumped even my appreciation of her keen assessment of plots and character motivation.

Josh and Jessica Louwerse are the kind of people that Aaron and I want to be when we grow up. Josh didn't know it at the time, but our first long conversation about his work at Covenant House sowed the seed that became Harper's story line in
The Beautiful Daughters
. I so admire who you are and what you do. Your lives are a testimony and an inspiration.

My agent, Danielle Egan Miller, and the entire team at Browne & Miller (Joanna MacKenzie, Abby Saul, and Molly Foltyn) are brilliant, tenacious, and so supportive of my work it's humbling. They are also excellent editors and offered much needed guidance at every stage as the book unfolded.

A special thank you to Sarah Branham and the entire team at Atria for taking me on and bringing such energy and excitement to the table.

Finally, my family put up with a lot as I wrote and rewrote
The Beautiful Daughters
. Never mind that we were in the process of adopting our own (and only) daughter during the months I put pen to paper. We don't just survive chaos, we thrive on it. Aaron, Isaac, Judah, Eve, and Matthias, thank you. I love you and this crazy life we lead.