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Magda emerges from below deck, gray hair escaping her bun and her neon green track suit nearly blinding me.
"Children, shh," she scolds lightly, her Eastern European accent rounding her vowels. "Wait until we get off the boat."
The kids gradually settle as the island nears. Clive stands by watchfully as the captain steers the yacht into a small cove, his slender frame bent over the wheel. Clive's eyes meet mine, a moment of silent understanding passing between us.
We disembark onto a beach of sugar-white sand. Remy hobbles down the gangplank, stooped frame leaning heavily on his cane. His icy blue eyes study the island dispassionately.
He doesn't say a word, but I can read the frown on his face. Remy doesn't think any good can come from visiting my mother's grave.
He's wrong, though.
I take Talia's hand as we walk towards the shaded grave site. My thoughts drift to my mother. Her kind smile, her gentle laughter, her warm embrace. The wound inflicted by her death still feels raw, even after all these years.
Burn waits silently by the white marble headstone, shoulders slumped. Beside him, my father sobs silently, tears tracking through the wrinkles on his weathered face. Tripp looks small, diminished. But his eyes are clear when they meet mine.
Talia and I approach the grave and my eyes never leave my father.
"Four months sober today," he says hoarsely.
My eyebrows knit. I glance at Burn, but he only nods.
"He's off the booze."
The kids gather behind Talia and me, their faces solemn. Solana slips her small hand into Talia's and peers up at her with big brown eyes.
Talia kneels down and looks Solana in the eyes.
"This is Dare's mother, honey," Talia murmurs. "She is so special that she got her very own island. Isn't that nice?"
Solana screws her face up and looks at the grave.
"I guess so."
Aunt Minnie appears beside Talia, cradling baby Hope. "We'll look at some pictures of Dare's mom later. I think it's kind of hard for you to think of someone you have never met, huh?"
"Yeah." Solana favors Aunt Minnie with a beaming smile. "Can we go explore?"
Minnie looks at Talia for approval. She nods and reaches out to take the baby from Aunt Minnie's arms. Then she bounces and rocks Hope, whispering to her.
"That's your grandma. She died when Daddy was little, but we still come to her grave to pay our respects. Right?"
Talia coos to the baby nestled against her and my heart gives a squeeze.Hope gurgles happily, then laughs, a clear bright sound that seems to chase the shadows from this place. The sun is warm on our skin. The waves lap in the background, gentle and soothing.
Talia's eyes meet mine, soft with understanding. My family surrounds me, finally whole. All is not perfect but hope blooms like the white lilies adorning my mother's grave. I breathe deep, taking in the scent of flowers and sea air.
This is healing.
Talia bounces little Hope in her arms, cooing softly to the baby as she takes in our surroundings.
"Look at the pretty water, sweet girl," she murmurs, brushing a finger over Hope's downy cheek. The baby turns her head, nuzzling against Talia's chest, eyelids drooping sleepily.
A shout rings out as the Hope House kids race across the stony ground of the small island.
"Children, please show some respect!" Clive calls out, a bit breathless. "Mr. Dare's mother is buried here."
The kids skid to a halt, chastened. Solana walks over to Clive, chewing her lip.
"I didn't mean to be bad," she says earnestly. "I just wanted to explore the island. It's so pretty here."
