Rising Above

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Rising Above Page 21

by Genevieve Fortin


  “And for Thomas.”

  “And for Thomas.”

  They kissed and turned toward the sea to take in the view one more time before they walked back toward the street where they’d left the car.

  “I was thinking we could even build a small home on the opposite side of the land, closer to the street. We wouldn’t get the view but I’d be close to work.”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  “Even if my father stays with us?” she asked tentatively, afraid she might be asking too much. Although she wanted nothing more than to eventually share a home with Ana, she knew she couldn’t turn her back on her father. She couldn’t do it to him, to Thomas, or to herself.

  “As long as he keeps teaching me how to fix things around the inn,” she teased before she added more seriously, “I like your dad, you know that. And I think he likes me too. He did promise he’d forgive me as soon as you did.”

  “Oh, well, it’s a done deal then.” She chuckled as they got to the car and placed their snowshoes in the trunk. Then she opened the door on the passenger’s side of the car for Ana. Instead of getting in, Ana grabbed her gloved hand and their eyes met.

  “I don’t know why you decided to forgive me, but I want you to know I don’t take it for granted. I love you, Melodie. And I promise I will never leave again.”

  Hearing the words felt wonderful even though she already knew they were true. “I told you. I did it for me. Weren’t you the one who told me that’s how forgiveness works?” Ana smiled as she nodded. “And you can’t leave even if you wanted to. We have too much to do.”

  They both turned to the marks left by their snowshoes on Yvonne’s land, exchanging promising smiles and contemplating the work ahead of them.

  Epilogue

  Three and a half years later

  “Kevin went inside to get the cake. Get ready to sing,” Melodie announced as she snuck in behind Ana and wrapped her arms around her waist before kissing the back of her neck. Ana took one more deep breath of the wild roses they’d planted on the edge of the cliff, bordering that entire side of the property. It was a natural choice for the region and left a unique, strong perfume in the air. She took one last shot with her camera. “You do love your roses, don’t you?”

  “They’re survivors. I respect that. They grow just about anywhere, and they love being by the sea almost as much as you do.”

  “Yeah, but like me, they seem to do fine on top of the hill too.”

  Ana turned and kissed Melodie on the lips. “Well we’re all survivors, if you ask me. If we weren’t we couldn’t have made all of this happen.” They both looked at the White Sheep Inn, firmly standing on its new foundations as if it had always been there. It had not been easy, but they’d finally received help from the city and provincial governments to make the move. They would have found a way to move the inn regardless, but Ana hoped their small victory would serve as a precedent for other home and business owners who would eventually decide to relocate. Two storms had hit the shores in the past three years, destroying more properties, and people were finally getting the message.

  Once they’d successfully relocated the inn, they’d used the money from the sales of the duplex and Ana’s house in Ithaca to build the small three-bedroom cottage that nested in the middle of mature trees at one corner of the property, almost invisible to the tourists who stayed at the inn. Finally, they’d built the gardens and the gazebo together, with Jerome’s help. They’d decided to inaugurate the gazebo today by celebrating Thomas’s fifth birthday. They were in the middle of the busy season and they’d invited all of their guests to the celebration, but Ana was grateful they’d all seemed to prefer getting busy with other activities. As a family, they didn’t get to enjoy the gardens often, and today was a special occasion.

  “Here he comes, let’s go,” Melodie prompted, interrupting her thoughts. They joined Thomas, Jerome and Nicole in the gazebo before Kevin arrived with the colorful sheet cake on which he’d lit five candles. The soccer-themed design created with icing on top of the cake seemed to have the effect they’d expected, judging by the excitement in Thomas’s big blue eyes as he mouthed the word “Wow!”

  As they sang “Happy Birthday” with enthusiasm, albeit completely off-key, Ana watched Miller lay on the cold concrete pavers under the table and she took a picture of him. He didn’t enjoy the heat of the summer in his old days. Ana dreaded the day they’d lose his companionship. Not only would they lose the best canine companion any family could dream of, but it would also be like losing another part of Yvonne.

  She turned to the wooden sign hanging at the entrance of the garden on which Melodie had used fancy lettering stencils to paint the words that reminded her Yvonne would always remain with them in some way: “Les Jardins d’Yvonne.” Yvonne’s Gardens.

  Thomas made a wish and successfully blew out all five candles. “I want this soccer ball,” he announced when Melodie started cutting the cake. Nicole helped by serving the portions of cake Melodie had placed in dessert plates. Their relationship improved each time Nicole visited, and they’d even developed a new, deep connection focused on Thomas. Ana doubted Melodie would ever call Nicole “Mom,” but she knew better than anyone nothing was impossible.

  She finished her piece of cake and left the empty dish on the table before she walked back to the edge of the cliff to take pictures of the sea, a favorite hobby of hers, although she often used some of her shots in the numerous articles she wrote about the relocation of the inn and other properties in Sainte-Luce-Sur-Mer.

  Thomas quickly joined her. “Do you see white sheeps today?” he asked as he raised his arms for her to pick him up. He wasn’t tall enough to see over the rosebushes and loved to hear her talk about the many different phenomena she observed on the Saint-Laurent.

  She put her camera down to take him in her arms and pointed to the waves. “There are whole flocks of them today. Do you see all the white sheep running on water?”

  “Yes. But they’re not really sheeps, right?”

  She chuckled, and not because he’d added an “s” to the word “sheep.” She never corrected his pluralisation of the word because it made sense. There was more than one sheep, after all. She laughed because of the way he asked the same questions and made her repeat the same information over and over again. “You’re right. They’re not. But what are they then? Do you remember?”

  “Uh…small waves?”

  “Yes, they are. But what makes them white?”

  “Oh, I know, I know. Foam,” he answered with pride.

  “That’s right. You’re so smart,” Melodie said as she arrived behind them and tickled him. “They do look like sheep, though.”

  “No they don’t,” he yelled through laughter.

  “Yes they do,” she insisted. “Mammie Nicole is about to leave. Go say goodbye and then we’ll go try out your present on the beach, okay?”

  “Cool,” he barely took the time to answer before he ran back to the gazebo. They’d given him a kite for his birthday and he was dying to see it fly.

  “I’ll get the towels for the cabins.”

  “They’re already in the car,” Melodie answered, waving her hand dismissively.

  The towels were for the three tiny houses they’d installed on the beach where the inn used to stand. They were probably the part of their endeavor that brought her the most pride. Equipped with solar panels, small propane tanks, and compostable toilets, they were completely off the grid and appealed to eco-tourists so much that they were considering adding two more next year. More importantly, they were inspiring others to replace their permanent homes on the beach with sustainable, mobile structures similar to their tiny cabins. They were making progress, and every time she thought that progress wasn’t coming fast enough, she heard Yvonne’s voice in her mind. Keep planting seeds.

  “I think the gazebo will be a huge success, don’t you?” Melodie asked as she turned toward the large wooden structure.

  “I do. A
re you still thinking about using it and the gardens for weddings?”

  “It was part of Mammie’s plan, so yes, but I think we should wait until next year to get started. I still have a lot of research to do.”

  “Okay, that makes sense. But you know, what might help is if we tried it out first.” As she reached into her pocket, her heart raced so fast she thought she might lose her nerve, but one look into Melodie’s light blue, expectant eyes assured her she was making the right move. She took the simple white gold ring she’d chosen out of her pocket and held it in front of her, as if it could ask the question she hadn’t voiced yet.

  Somehow it worked, as Melodie quickly put the easy puzzle together, her eyes wide open and her smile stretching from ear to ear before she threw her arms around her neck and pulled her into a tight embrace. “Yes,” she murmured.

  “Yes?”

  “Yes,” she said louder as she pulled away and offered her finger on which Ana slipped the gold band. “When did you think of that?”

  “A while ago. Don’t you know I’m full of brilliant ideas?” Melodie kissed her softly but with clear intentions to take things further later.

  “I do know. But usually it takes time for your ideas to grow on me. This one came out fully grown, like boom!”

  “That’s what you think, but you have no idea how long ago I planted that seed. No idea at all.”

  Bella Books, Inc.

  Women. Books. Even Better Together.

  P.O. Box 10543

  Tallahassee, FL 32302

  Phone: 800-729-4992

  www.bellabooks.com

 

 

 


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