know.”
He’d convinced her of that, until he was no longer there. He’d been her strength all along.
She never remembered it being this hot in early July before. Amanda took in a deep lungful of the humid Whelk’s Island air. Loneliness hung from her like a wet sweater—oddly heavy and cold—in the middle of summer.
If she could turn over and never wake up again, it would be fine by her.
That’s not an option.
Two tiny hearts depended on her: Hailey and Jesse. Three if she counted Denali, and he needed her too.
She pulled the covers back and sat up. Stretching her arms to the ceiling, she looked around her bedroom. The real estate agent had called this house a cottage, but that made it sound more glamourous than it was. Bungalow was probably more fitting.
There was an advantage to the place being in poor condition. Price, for one, but it also gave her the freedom to go a little wild with decor and paint colors. Years of sand had ruined the hardwood floors, so she let the kids help her whitewash them. They’d even written messages of hope and love and dreams across the thirsty boards before painting them. It would forever be their family secret. The project made the house feel more like home.
Despite the fact there were still boxes stacked in the corner of her room even after having lived here over two months now, she and the kids were finally getting into a good routine.
It was liberating to have no history in this town. Gone were those side-glance looks of condolence from the other Marine wives. The are-you-okays. It might be true that those looks had just been in her head, that people weren’t giving Jack a second thought after two years. That’s what Mom had said, but honestly, was that any better? To think Jack had been completely forgotten was heartbreaking too.
Her phone rang. One glimpse at the screen confirmed what she’d already suspected: Mom. Please don’t push today. She hesitated answering, but with each ring, she realized that waiting to talk to her wouldn’t make it any easier.
“Hello, Mom. How are you this morning?” She made herself smile. She’d read somewhere that an actual smile on your face came through over the phone. If that would convince her mom she was doing okay, it was worth a try. Fake it ’til you make it.
“I wondered if you’d answer. You must never keep your phone with you.”
Which was Mom’s passive-aggressive way of letting her know that she suspected Amanda had been ignoring her calls, but Amanda refused to let her bait her today.
Mom rambled on. “Anyway, the house down the street went on the market this morning. Huge backyard and one of those big swing sets with a slide and a fort. You know we have the best school district here. I already called the agent, so I can go see it this morning at ten. I’ll video-call you.”
“Why would I do that? I just moved.”
“But this is better. You’d be here with family. We’ve talked about this.”
“Mom, thank you, but no. I’m not coming back to Ohio. My life is here now. Jack and I want to raise the kids in North Carolina.”
“But Jack isn’t there.”
She pulled her hand to her heart. “Yes. I’m fully aware. Every day I’m reminded of it. But I have to do this on my own. Why can’t you have faith in me? I need to do this. It’s important to me.”
“Well, those kids need more than just you. We’re their grandparents.”
“I know, Mom. I totally agree. Come visit. Y’all can sleep in Hailey’s room. She sleeps in Jesse’s most of the time anyway. The beach is great. You can see for yourself we’re doing fine.”
“You know your father won’t leave. He’s got all those things going on.”
Amanda sucked in a breath. All those things? Like what? Mom had a million excuses why they wouldn’t come down to visit. Amanda was tired of begging them.
“You shouldn’t let this house get away. It’s perfect. Homes in this neighborhood don’t go on the market often. Somebody has to die to get one.”
“Somebody died?” Good grief, that’s all she needed—to live with someone else’s ghost.
“No, it’s a saying. Look, if you’re worried about the money, we can help you. The cost of living is cheaper here. It would be so much easier for you. Please—”
“Thank you. I know you mean well, but I’m where I need to be.”
Her mother let out an