by Ciara Shayee
“This is…damn, it’s so surreal,” Reagan murmured, pulling back but still holding her gently by her shoulders. He leaned down to tickle Bodhi’s cheeks with his scruffy, beard-covered jaw, grinning tearfully at the ensuing giggles, before meeting Indie’s gaze once more. “Love you, baby girl.”
Laughing despite her emotion-clogged throat, Indie used her free hand to reach up and brush tears from beneath her dad’s eyes, then stood up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I love you, too, Daddy.”
As Reagan wound his arm around Indie and coaxed her over to watch Marley bathe herself in chocolate cake, Peter and Grace following close behind, Indie couldn’t help but look around and attempt to memorise every little thing about this wonderful moment.
Andy teasing Marley, while Laker and Carl-Roman threatened to sneak bits of frosting just to hear her laugh and threaten them with tickling. Just a year ago, Marley didn’t speak. She refused to say a thing—now, nobody could stop her.
Just on the outside of their little circle, Sarah snapped photos of their smiles, capturing moments, which, no doubt, Indie would cry over later. Ryan and Archie were duking over who should get to give Marley her gifts first. They’d bonded, and acted similarly to how Archie and Laker always had—like brothers, instead of friends.
Heidi and Pippa had arrived six days previous, and were right in the thick of things with Archie and Laker, arguing that they should be allowed to give their gifts first as they were younger. Archie pulled them both into his sides for playful noogies, only releasing them when they teamed up to jab their fingers in his sides. Mary and Roy had been unable to come after all, with Roy coming down with a nasty norovirus, but they’d be calling later on.
Then there was Peter, with his arm still wrapped tight around his eldest daughter’s shoulders, and Grace, smiling wide on her birthday for the first time in over a decade, much like Indie. No doubt she’d soon have her camera out, taking more pictures for her scrapbooks. She was already on her fourth, and Indie had another bound and wrapped waiting with the stack of gifts for her in the corner.
Reagan couldn’t bring himself to let go of Indie just yet, but that was okay. She didn’t mind. It had been a long time since he’d been able to give her a birthday hug. If he held onto her all day to make up for the lost time, it still wouldn’t be long enough.
Chase babbled away in his highchair, his volume increasing tenfold when Indie strapped Bodhi into his chair beside him, the two boys bouncing off each other’s energy, as usual.
Sighing, Indie leaned into Reagan’s side, her eyes finding Laker as they so often did. He was chuckling and leaning in to tickle Marley. Their matching smiles were wide and so, so perfect that she almost couldn’t look.
This, this was what she’d missed most. This was what Indie had desperately ached for—laughter and light and life.
Marley turned, beckoning her mother over with a pleading pout while yelling instructions to, “Try the fostin’!”
Indie smiled to herself, content and happy in the knowledge that this was just the first of many joyous occasions to come.
chapter thirty-four
Knock, knock.
Indie hissed out a breath through her teeth, stepping into her white ballet flats as she called out, “Come in!”
“Sorry, I know I’m early. A certain young lady has been pestering me to come and get you for almost a half hour.”
Indie allowed herself a chance to take in Laker’s outfit while he had his eyes covered—a pair of pressed, cream cargo shorts, a khaki, short-sleeve shirt, and the things that pulled a giggle from her belly, a pair of brown leather boat shoes.
“Boat shoes, Laker?” she asked, adding, “You can uncover your eyes.”
When he looked at her, a chuckle burst from his lips. “We match!”
Looking down at herself, Indie nodded. “Did Marley happen to help you pick your shirt, by any chance?” The khaki colour of Laker’s shirt almost perfectly matched the colour of her off-the-shoulder dress, though the crochet trim of her dress was white, unlike the rest of the chiffon material.
Laker nodded sheepishly, reaching up to rearrange his hair. It was a riotous mess, still slightly wet from his shower. “She insisted I wear this one. And the boat shoes. Apparently, they’re ‘handsome.’”
Making a note to have words with her meddlesome daughter, Indie quickly checked the bed to make sure she had everything—phone, Bodhi’s binky, Marley’s hair tie…
“You need this?”
Laker was holding up her white crochet cardigan. She sighed, nodded, and crossed the room to take it from him.
“Ah! Let me.”
Flushing pink in the face, Indie turned, sliding her arms into the fabric when he held it up. “Thank you,” she murmured.
“No problem. You look…bellissima.”
Indie was saved from having to respond—not that she knew how to respond to such a compliment, even one in Italian—by the wailing of her daughter as she clattered down the hall, feet slapping on the tiles.
“Muuuummmyyyyyy!”
“I think our time is up, bella ragazza,” Laker chuckled, reaching up to brush a lock of her hair away from her face. Indie sighed, leaning into his hand for just a second before Marley crashed into the room, huffing and puffing—her hair a wild, curly mess, cheeks infused with a rosy glow.
“Come on, Mummy! You, too, Laker! Pawpaw says he’s gonna eat your bits of cake if you don’t hurry!”
“Well! We wouldn’t want that, would we?” Laker laughed, lifting Marley to his hip and pressing a quick kiss to the tip of her button nose. “Let’s go fight Pawpaw for our cake, si?”
Marley beamed—all pearly white baby teeth and sparkling azure eyes. “Si, Laker! And you, also, Mummy!”
Grabbing the essentials from the bed, Indie followed Laker and Marley through the house toward the patio where everyone had planned to gather before they all headed to the pool for an epic pool party and barbecue. She was surprised when he continued through the kitchen instead, looking back over his shoulder.
“I sent them ahead. I thought we could take a detour through the rose garden.”
Indie’s body warmed. She hadn’t been back to the rose garden since the night they’d danced into the early hours.
“Ooh, a rose garden! I love roses!” Marley declared with all the excitement of a six-year-old. She turned, peering over Laker’s shoulder. “Mummy, what’s a rose?”
Laughing lightly, Indie nodded and pointed forward, “Why don’t you take a look, baby girl? There are lots right there.”
As they stepped out into the walkway beneath the roses, Indie felt herself welling up. She could clearly picture herself and Laker dancing around the fountain up ahead; she was able to remember his soft voice serenading her with picture-perfect clarity. Marley ooh’d and aah’d appropriately, flushing scarlet when Laker lifted her easily by the waist to let her pluck a rose from the arch above her head.
He grinned crookedly, quickly breaking the thorns from the stem to tuck it behind Marley’s ear. “There. Perfetto.”
He couldn’t help but remember a much different Marley with a flower tucked behind her ear. A silent, sad little girl who’d been afraid to stand on her own two feet.
Laker grinned when he spied Marley. She was on folded knees in front of the portable DVD player an agent had found hidden away, but her eyes were on the doorway, then him when he appeared. Her eyes brightened, and her lips moved into a small, hesitant smile. A hopeful smile. She looked so sweet, so innocent, with a single red tulip tucked behind her ear. One of the agents had brought a bunch to the house to brighten it up at Riley’s request, and Marley had silently giggled behind her hands when Laker plucked one from the vase to settle it at the side of her head.
They both turned toward Indie at the sound of a camera.
She grinned unabashedly from behind her phone. “Smile, you two.”
Laker and Marley plastered matching smiles on their faces and leaned their heads together.
The resulting image on Indie’s screen made her heart sputter before taking off at a gallop.
By the time the trio met up with the rest of the group, she was more than ready for a cool glass of water to soothe her overheated cheeks, and to temper the warmth overtaking her body at the sight of Laker and Marley’s obvious adoration for one another.
Stepping out from the short walkway joining the rose garden to the pool area, Indie smiled and paused to take it all in.
The men had all disappeared earlier in the day for a short while, citing ‘things to do’ as their excuse. Suddenly, it was obvious just what those ‘things’ were. They’d draped hundreds—no, thousands—of fairy lights from the trees surrounding the pool, creating a canopy of twinkling lights above the water that would only get more beautiful as it grew darker. Three tables had been set up; one for gifts, one for food, and one long picnic bench where everybody could eat.
The pool was lit from within by spotlights, so the inflatables floating on the surface seemed to glow as they bobbed. Indie couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but soft piano music played quietly. As Sarah made her way over, Bodhi cooing in her arms, Indie wondered if it was Laker playing.
“You look beautiful, Indie,” Sarah murmured with a smile, handing Bodhi over. He’d been dressed in the outfit Indie had picked out earlier—a pair of blue shorts with soft, matching braces attached, and a white, short-sleeve shirt decorated with tiny sailboats. Unable to deny herself the opportunity to hear Bodhi’s belly chuckles, Indie tickled his feet, warm and ensconced in a pair of cotton, baby blue socks.
She flushed and peppered kisses over Bodhi’s face to hide the flaming of her cheeks. “Thank you, Sarah. You do, too.”
In a navy ruffle dress decorated with pretty flowers, Sarah looked even younger than her thirty-six years. Her hair had been curled and pinned back; half-up, half-down, and she’d forgone make-up in lieu of sporting the natural look she preferred. As Carl-Roman distracted her, Indie admired Sarah’s easy beauty and grace, hoping to one day be able to hold herself with the same poise and good nature.
More than that, she hoped to one day be as happy as Sarah was with Andy.
Andy wandered over behind Carl-Roman, reminding the little boy to be careful with the lump of cake in his hands, before planting a soft kiss on his wife’s cheek and joining the men gathered next to the fire pit. On his way past Indie, he paused with a wide grin.
“Indie, you look lovely. Happy birthday.”
“Andy, you already wished me a ‘happy birthday’ this morning,” she reminded him gently, tilting her cheek when he leaned in.
Chuckling as he pulled back, he winked. “I have twelve to make up for, so I intend to catch up.”
Swallowing through a suddenly thick throat, Indie nodded, holding Bodhi close to her chest.
Everybody seemed to be sharing the same sentiment, all wanting to make up for lost years with Indie and Grace—and Marley, of course. Indie had lost count of the gifts she’d opened earlier in the day. As for Marley…well, she now had more toys than she knew what to do with. Indie had voiced her concerns about shipping them all home, but Laker had brushed off her worries with a promise to sort it all out.
Speak of the devil…
“Come on, Indie. Little Sweet wants to show you your cake,” Laker told her, jostling Marley in his arms. She giggled sweetly, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Yeah, c’mon, Mummy! It’s so pretty!”
Following dutifully, the little quartet didn’t notice the multiple sets of eyes on them, nor did they notice the quiet clicks of Grace’s camera as she captured the moment Indie spotted her cake. She gazed down at her screen, Ryan coming to peer over her shoulder.
Laker was still holding Marley, though his free hand had come to rest at the small of Indie’s back, and Bodhi had been shifted to his mother’s side, so all four of them were visible in the shot, despite it being taken from behind. They were lit from above by the fairy lights and by the dwindling light of the sunset on the horizon, painting the sky in glorious oranges and golds. Marley and Bodhi were each facing inward with smiles on their faces aimed at Indie and Laker, who were staring into each other’s eyes.
“Have they admitted that they love each other, yet?” Ryan whispered conspiratorially.
Grace snorted, trying to ignore the way her skin tingled all over from Ryan’s proximity. It was undeniable that, during the two weeks in Rome, their bond had grown stronger. They’d spent virtually every second together, and Grace couldn’t fathom a scenario in which she would want that to end. He’d grown close to her loved ones and quickly become a part of the large, mish-mashed family she adored. Her eyes routinely found him, if he wasn’t right beside her, and just yesterday, she’d finally accepted what her heart already knew, but her head hadn’t been ready to acknowledge.
She loved him.
With all of her heart and soul, Grace loved Ryan—and she was struggling to hide it.
Like at that moment, she had to fight to keep her hands on the camera to stop them from reaching back to feel the strands of his scruffy, dark blonde hair between her fingers. Grace repeated the same mantra over and over in her mind, willing herself not to lean back into the warmth she could feel emanating from his body. Her heart raced, thumping a rapid tattoo as she inhaled a deep breath and shuddered at the wisps of his aftershave riding the air into her lungs.
“N-no,” she finally sputtered. “I think they’re still in denial. Sarah has a plan, though.”
Ryan chuckled; Grace smiled despite herself and turned her face. Just a few more inches and she’d be touching him. Their cheeks would be pressed together. His lips…they’d be so, so close.
“A plan, huh? Do you happen to know what this plan entails?”
“Something about a kick in the butt and a special gift? I think that’s what she said. I don’t know, you know how Sarah is.”
Cropping the photo on the camera slightly, to make the frame of the trees and fairy lights symmetrical, Grace saved it and tucked her camera back into the bag hanging over her shoulder, turning to face Ryan. She purposefully left a little space between them, wondering if he’d notice.
Gazing up into his eyes, she briefly considered just…saying it. Just saying those three little words that had been hovering on the tip of her tongue since she’d realised how completely and utterly she was in love with him. Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. It didn’t escape her notice that Ryan’s eyes flickered down to the movement before quickly returning to her eyes, their soft, grey-blue shade darkening just slightly.
“Gracie, I—” He began in a husky timbre. But it wasn’t to be.
“Aunt Grace! Uncle Ry! C’mon, it’s time for ca-ake!” Marley sang—well, it was more like a yell, actually.
Regardless, everybody heard. And nobody could deny her. Especially not on her birthday.
Ryan sighed, his lips curling up in a sort of amused, but somehow sad, smile. “Come on then, Missy. Let’s go make some wishes, huh?” He reached up, gently sweeping the pad of his thumb over her jaw. Her lips parted a fraction, a soft puff of airbrushing Ryan’s skin as he pulled his hand away.
“I, um…Ryan, I’ve got something to te—”
“Aunt Grace! Uncle Ry! Why’re you being slow?”
“Marley Grace Ashby, mind your manners!”
“Uh, sorry, Mummy.”
Snickering, Ryan shook his head. The moment had passed. “Come on, let’s go.”
As Ryan took her hand, Grace sighed softly and followed him over to join the rest of the group. Everybody gathered around the three cakes. The trio of giant cupcakes were identical, except for their colours and flavours. Marley’s was chocolate, Indie’s strawberry, and Grace’s blueberry, but they were all impeccably decorated with frosting and hundreds of tiny, silver flowers.
“All right girls, gather round,” Reagan said good-naturedly, brandishing a match ready to be lit. “You three—if you stand to that side, we’ll take a photo from here, okay?�
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Grace handed her camera to Peter, then moved around the table with Indie, Marley, and Bodhi still in his mother’s arms.
“Do you want me to pick you up, Mars?”
Marley frowned at Grace before looking around, searching...
When she spotted Laker, she grinned. “Laker, please can you hold me? And Uncle Ry, you should come stand next to Aunt Grace!”
“Uh, Little Missy, I don’t know—” Floundering, Ryan tugged at his hair, looking thoroughly embarrassed when Laker clapped him on the shoulder with a grin and told him to get moving. Reagan and Peter looked more than a little suspicious as they watched Laker scoop Marley into his arms and Ryan stand beside Grace, his hand moving to rest at the small of her back.
“All right, let’s do it, Pawpaw!” All emotion but joy was wiped from Reagan’s face as he refocused on Marley, getting ready to light the three single candles—one for each cake.
“Okay, is everybody ready?”
A chorus of agreement rang out, so Reagan sucked in a deep breath, tears gathering in his eyes, and quickly lit the trio of white candles as the group began to sing.
“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Indie—Grace—and Marley…”
Giggles and laughter halted the song for a moment as they tried to squash the three names into the single beat, then they continued, love infusing their words as Peter snapped photos of the girls—and Ryan, Laker, and Bodhi—sharing smiles.
“You know what comes next, Mars?” Reagan asked once they’d finished singing.
She giggled with glee. “Cheers, Pawpaw!”
“That’s right, baby girl. Cheers. Hip hip…”
The group gave the girls three cheers, then one for luck, Marley all but bouncing clean out of Laker’s arms by the time he whispered that she could blow out her candles.
Indie and Grace leaned forward with Marley, sharing a long, tearful look before turning back to their cakes and meeting the eyes of their respective dads as they blew out their candles for the first time in more than a decade.