“Peyton! Oh, my gosh, I can’t believe you’re really here!”
And then I was once again enveloped in a tight hug. I buried my face in Jude’s neck, appalled to realize I was crying.
“I mean, I know I’ve seen you in Georgia, but it’s different than—hey, are you crying?” She held my face between her hands the same way Aunt Maggie used to do to me. Her bright green eyes searched mine, and whatever she saw there made her sigh and pull me close again.
“Oh, Peyton. It’s okay. You’re home now, and we’re so happy. We’ve missed you so much.”
She tucked me against her, one arm draped over my shoulders, and led me toward the bar. “Logan, look who it is! You remember my cousin Peyton.”
“Sure, I do.” The man sprawled over a bar stool stood up, grinning at me. His face wore a few wrinkles, and his light brown hair boasted some gray strands here and there. But I recognized him right away.
“Logan.” I smiled widely right back at him. “God, when I look at you, I could swear it’s 1985 again, and I’m watching the whole posse on the beach after graduation. It’s like no time at all has passed.”
He chuckled. “I’d like to agree with you, but the way my body feels today after helping the crew with set-up for tonight, I’d be lying.” He put one hand to his back and winced. “Most days, I can keep up with the grandkids and even manage a run on the beach. But other days, I feel every minute of being almost sixty.”
“Hey, there.” Jude gave her husband a gentle punch on the arm. “We’re not almost sixty. We’re only fifty-seven.”
Logan drew his wife to him, and the love that shone through his eyes almost made me feel as though I was intruding on an intimate moment. “Sweetheart, I know math is not your favorite, but rounding up means we’re closer to finishing our sixth decade.”
“Oh, whatever.” Jude rolled her eyes and turned back to me. “Peyton, c’mon. I want you to meet everyone.” She raised her voice. “Hey, y’all! Come out here. I have someone you need to see.”
The first one out of the kitchen was a young woman carrying a toddler on her hip. She was followed by a sturdy looking little boy and an older couple who I would have known anywhere.
“Peyton Rivers!” Sadie tossed her hands in the air. “Well, hallelujah! Girl, it’s way past time that you brought your smiling face back home. Get over here.”
Sadie and Mack had worked at the Rip Tide for as long as I could remember. Aunt Maggie used to joke that they came with the building when my grandparents had bought it back in the fifties, and it was entirely possible that she had been onto something. As I hugged Sadie, the thought crossed my mind that she really didn’t seem to have aged in thirty-five years.
Her husband Mack claimed me next, smacking a kiss on my cheek and holding me by the arms, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me.
“You got skinny, missy.” Releasing me, he raised his voice. “Martin, get me a Ripper platter, and put some speed on it!”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly—” I began, but Jude shot me a quelling look. I remembered the old rule: no one argues with Sadie and Mack.
“That sounds delicious,” I admitted. “Thanks, Mack. I haven’t had a really decent burger in over thirty years.”
“Well, you’re about to have your socks knocked off then,” he huffed. “We don’t serve anything that’s onlydecent. The Tide only serves the best.”
Jude rescued me, slipping her arm around my waist. “While you’re waiting, let me introduce you to my bonus daughter, Lindsay. Linds, this is my cousin, Peyton.”
“I’ve heard so much about you,” the younger woman responded. “It’s nice to connect a face with the stories.”
I laughed. “The stories are only half-true if they’re told from Jude’s point of view. Remember, she’s four years older than I am. She was always getting me into trouble.”
“Hey, hey.” My cousin affected an affronted expression. “Watch it. My grandchildren are listening.” She gestured toward the two small faces gazing at me with open curiosity. “This handsome young man is Daniel Joseph, DJ for short. And the adorable little girl is Brenna Jude.”
DJ planted his hands on his hips. “I don’t know who you are.”
“DJ.” Lindsay laid a hand on his dark hair. “Mind your manners. Miss Peyton is family. She’s your . . .” She tilted her head. “Your first cousin, twice removed.”
“That’s right.” I bent my knees to sit on my haunches. “Your nana and I used to play together when we were your age. I’m very glad to know you.” Standing, I smiled at the little girl in Lindsay’s arms. “And you, too. You look a lot like your nana—and your great-grandmother, too.”
It was true. Jude’s granddaughter had Aunt Maggie’s eyes, and thinking of how long she’d been gone brought tears to my eyes once more.
“I know.” Jude slipped her arm around my waist again. “Come on, Pey. Let’s get a booth and drink some wine with your burger.”
“That’s the best offer I’ve had in ages,” I sighed, trailing my cousin to the far end of the dining room. “But I don’t want to interrupt if you’re supposed to be working or doing something else.”
Jude laughed. “Oh, I don’t work here really. Not anymore. Daniel and Lindsay keep the Tide humming along during the days, and Emmy runs things at night on the weekends.” She slid into the booth and pointed me into the opposite seat. “You remember Emmy Carter, right? She was Emmy Graham when you knew her.”
