Jackson bends down and sweeps Coco onto his hip, and I continue moving forward, drawn by unstoppable force. He reaches out his hand, and mine quickly goes into it. The crowd on the front lawn of the church stills, and all eyes are on us. I couldn’t give a shit. I go straight into his embrace, and he leans down to kiss me, slow and sure, lips parted, tongues caressing. It’s possible my leg bends.
“You’re kissing Mommy again,” Coco grumbles from where she sits on his arm, and our kiss is broken by our laughter.
I pull back so our eyes can meet, and when I see ocean blue, I’m swept away.
“Let’s go home.”
* * *
Lunch finished, we’re on the beach in our secluded cove. Coco sleeps on a quilt spread under the umbrella. I’m on a fluffy white towel leaning my cheek against Jackson’s
damp, salty shoulder.
“So that’s it?” I’ve been watching the waves gently rolling over themselves while he told me the story of the last week. “Once you found Tiffany, she confirmed you’d been framed because you found that hidden evidence?”
“That’s the short version anyway,” he says, looking down. Warm lips press against the side of my head, and I smile. “We had to go through a few other formalities, file complaints, make official statements, have Tiffany’s original complaint withdrawn… But essentially, yes. Once I’d caught her in the lie, it all fell apart like a house of cards.”
As happy as I feel, I can’t shake the one thing nagging at me. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”
“Shh—I’ve already said not to worry about it.” He leans back against the wooden prop, and I cross my arm over his lined abdomen. His warm hands move up and down my back. “You were worried about Coco.”
“Still, I should have let you explain. I’ve known you since we were kids.”
“You were appropriately cautious.”
My lips press into a frown, and he leans forward to kiss it away. “Think we can walk out into the water while she sleeps?”
The sizzle in his eye heats my bikini bottoms, and I glance at my sleeping daughter. “If she wakes up, she’ll come to where we are.” His expression changes, and I clarify. “We should have plenty of time to get ourselves together if that happens.”
Eyebrows waggle, and I laugh, standing and holding his hand as we walk into the warm water. We continue walking, the water rising slowly up my legs, to my knees, up to my waist. Without realizing it, I shiver, wrapping my arms over my stomach.
Jackson is with me at once. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” I shake my head. “I’ve never had this feeling in the ocean, this fear. I’ve only ever felt it in my dream…”
“Your dream?” Our eyes meet, his full of concern. “Tell me about it.”
We’re deep enough that I can wrap my legs around his waist. He holds me against his chest, and I lean my head forward, speaking close to his ear.
“It started in middle school. I don’t know what triggers it, but some nights, I’ll dream I’m being held down in the dark. I’m with my dad and Minnie… I sense they’re there, but they don’t answer me when I call.” Another little shiver and his arms tighten around me. “Water pours in from the window in clear arches. It rises from the floor, higher and higher up my legs.” Pausing, I consider what Betty Pepper told me. “I didn’t know I was in the car that night. The dreams stopped when we were together, and when they started after you left, I thought it was because I missed you so much.”
He’s quiet the entire time I’m speaking. When I stop, he slides his hands down to my waist and moves me back so we can face each other. “You don’t remember what happened after the crash?”
“I don’t remember the crash,” I say, shaking my head. “Momma never talked about it. I stayed with Tabby’s family for long time after it happened, but I guess I blocked the actual night out of my head.”
His hand comes out of the water, and he slides his thumb down the line of my jaw. “I was there.”
“I know. You were with your dad. You told me.”
“Maybe I need to tell you the rest of the story.”
We’re quiet a moment, only long enough for me to say, “Please—I want the truth.”
“So, I was in the car with my dad, and I saw your car go off the road at the intercostal canal.” His eyes move above my head. “I watched my dad jump in after it and swim to the passenger’s side… I thought I could help him, so I ran down the bridge to the bank.”
“The car was sinking fast,” I say, remembering my dream. My body shakes, and he holds me tighter, secure against his chest. “It was like suction pulling it to the bottom, like a dark force.”
“Your window had a crack. I slipped my fingers in and pushed it down.”