A Walk Along the Beach by Debbie Macomber Page 0,76

determined to bake the original cakes we had chosen for their reception.

Dad and I sat next to each other, eating a thin slice of the rather boring cake, when my brother joined us.

“It was a lovely ceremony,” Dad told Lucas.

“Thanks, Dad. Glad you could be here.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Now, when are you going to give me grandchildren?”

At the stricken look that shot across my brother’s face, I burst into giggles. It took me a moment to realize it had been a long time since I’d found a reason to laugh.

CHAPTER 24

Sean

The assignment was complete, although it had taken longer than any of us had anticipated. All of us were eager to get back to the States, to our families and all that was familiar and comfortable. Now I would need to sort through the thousands of photos I’d taken, and get started writing the story to accompany them.

I’d packed up our camp and was ready to head back home at last. To Oceanside. To Willa. Ever since our conversation, I’d been worried and distracted.

Traveling to the Manila Ninoy Aquino airport had been a challenge, and we were fortunate to make the flight. There was only one direct flight to the States. The thought of missing that plane and spending an extra day trapped in an airport had the entire team on edge.

Because of the traffic and the late start, we ended up racing to our gate and were the last passengers to board. Once on the plane, I collapsed into my seat, breathing heavily, thanking God we’d made it. I’d planned on connecting with Willa at the airport. That unfortunately wasn’t going to happen. I ground my teeth in frustration as I fastened my seatbelt and listened to the flight attendant review the safety instructions. Los Angeles would be my first opportunity to reach her.

The flight was long, nearly sixteen hours. Logging on to my computer, I worked as best I could, hoping to get a head start on sorting through the thirty thousand photos I’d taken. Doug and I would collaborate on the article, but my work was just starting. It would take weeks to review all the pictures I’d taken.

At some point in the flight, I fell asleep, waking only long enough to close my computer. Finally, the plane touched down in Los Angeles, bouncing against the runway and jolting me from a light sleep.

From this point the team that I’d been living and working with all these weeks would head in different directions. I would fly into Seattle and Doug would head to Chicago and the others to Phoenix.

As soon as I cleared customs, squared away my luggage, and got to my next gate, I reached for my phone. Eager didn’t begin to explain how anxious I was to speak to Willa. Not having been able to communicate with her in the weeks since our last conversation, I was desperate for news.

My hand shook with nerves and anticipation until the call went through. It rang and rang. With each unanswered ring, my frustration mounted until the call went to voicemail. Part of me was tempted to hang up and try again later. After hesitating, I decided to leave a message.

“Willa, it’s me. I’m in L.A., about to board my flight. Give me a call when you get this.” Given no choice, I disconnected. Disappointment settled in my stomach like acid. After weeks of going without hearing her voice, I was near desperate.

While waiting, I connected with my parents and assured them all was well, that I was in the States and would arrive back in Oceanside soon.

“By any chance have you heard from Willa?” I asked, hoping they might be able to fill me in on what was happening with her sister. My thoughts bounced from one scenario to another, not knowing what was worse.

My mother was on the other end of the phone, with my dad listening in. “Not a word. Has something happened?”

“It’s her sister. Shortly after I left, Willa learned that Harper’s cancer had returned.”

“Oh no. I’m so sorry, Sean, but Willa didn’t reach out. Did you expect her to?”

“No, but I was hoping.”

We didn’t talk long; I was in a hurry to get off the phone, anxious to try phoning Willa again. Although I loved my parents and was happy to hear their voices, the person I needed to speak to most was Willa.

When my flight was announced, Willa still hadn’t returned my call, although I’d