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“Soon,” I say, but I do wonder what he will think of me. Especially since I was pregnant when I tried to kill myself. I didn’t know it at the time, but Kelley saved Knox and me that night. J.R. should know that at least.
I hang up with Kelley and go looking for my family. J.R. is making breakfast, and the aroma of coffee fills the house. Knox is sitting at the kitchen table, flipping through a book and getting J.R.’s opinion on pianos. J.R. seems happy to chat about this, and I smile at the two of them.
I kiss the top of Knox’s head. “Good morning, Rosie.”
Knox rolls her eyes at me, but she doesn’t say anything about my continued usage of the nickname she hates. I swing around J.R. to grab a coffee mug from the cabinet, and he mumbles to me, “I think we should tell her that we’ve made amends. That we’re going to try again.”
I strongly disagree, of course. It’s mostly out of fear, but I also don’t want to give our daughter a false hope. We can try, but will we succeed? The verdict is still out on that. “We should wait,” I whisper.
J.R. looks disappointed, but he doesn’t push the subject further.
“We should go out on the beach today. The tourists are gone. It’s the weekend. It’ll be fun,” I say, changing the subject.
Knox and J.R. look at each other, and then Knox says, “Dad and I made plans already, but you can come, too.” She looks at J.R. “If it’s okay with Dad.”
I lean against the counter, looking at J.R., smiling. “Is it okay, Dad?”
J.R. chuckles, empties some scrambled eggs on a plate for Knox, and then says to her, “I’ll be right back. I need to have a talk with your mom about our plans.”
“Okay,” Knox says, watching us as J.R. leads the way out of the kitchen with me following behind.
We disappear down the hall and into J.R.’s bedroom. He closes the door, and then he turns into me, his hands on my hips.
“I know we agreed on slow, but I’ve never been slow about anything a day in my life,” he says. His mouth is close to mine. “You can’t look at me like that, and I’m having a really hard time keeping my hands off of you.”
I hook my hands together behind his neck and pull him closer. “We should make sure that this is what we want. I don’t want to confuse her. It’s not just us anymore, J.R. It’s Knox, too.”
“I know.” He presses his forehead against mine.
"I love you.” I whisper.
“I know.” He kisses me, pushing me gently against the wall. “I want you all to myself. Just for a day. Just you and me.”
“Soon,” I say, and I kiss him again. It’s long and gentle, my body aching for his. If we are going to take things slow, we can’t be kissing like this. The physical attraction between the two of us has always been a bit electrifying. Even the most disciplined woman couldn’t resist him, and vice versa.
Suddenly, there are two little knocks on the bedroom door next to us, and we both startle. We muffle a laugh after Knox asks through the door, “What are you two doing in there? I’m ready to go.”
J.R. kisses my forehead and then my lips, and then he swings the door open. “We were just discussing our plans. Go get your shoes on.”
I stay stuck against the wall for a few seconds, and then I peel myself away when I’m composed again.
The sky is blue, and the air is warm. It’s not humid the way it is in the middle of the summer. The air feels good as it moves through my hair. J.R. drives the boat out into the ocean a little way. I watch as the coast grows smaller the further we get from it.
It’s a beautiful coastline, lined with tall, green trees. It’s not like a Florida coastline covered in high-rise resorts. Tybee is a well-preserved island, where the wildlife has been kept. Wild dunes, tall trees, beautiful houses, docks, and a pier—it’s like something from a movie.
Knox is content in her seat. Her little hands cling to her life jacket. She smiles into the breeze, and I think she’s the most beautiful human I have ever laid eyes on.
J.R. stops the engine a little past the waves. He pulls a couple of fishing poles from a storage compartment on the boat, and then he gives Knox permission to unbuckle herself from her seat and stand up.
I watch them as Knox listens to J.R. 's instruction. He shows her how to bait the hook and cast the line. Knox watches intently, and I love her willingness to learn. She didn’t even flinch when she hooked her own bait, the worm wiggling relentlessly from the hook.
“Want to fish?” J.R. asks me.
“No, I’ll watch.” I haven’t fished in quite some time.
“Come on,” J.R. urges, taking my hand.
I notice Knox watching us as I allow J.R. to pull me to my feet, and I think I see a little smile on her face. J.R. hands me his fishing pole. He’s already attached the bait, for which I’m thankful. He stands behind me, his arms around me, his hands on mine, and he instructs me on how to cast the line. I smile because I know that he knows I know how to fish; but he just wants to be close to me, and I can’t refuse him. It feels good to be so close to him. To feel his legs behind mine. His chest on my back. His hands on my hands.
