Sail Away with Me

by Susan Fox

  Her eyes were huge, intent. “What’s that?”

  “That you’ll be honest with me. I love you so much, Iris. I think that, together, we can do anything. If we trust each other and we’re honest.”

  “I think so, too.” She smiled up at him. “You are the best birthday present ever.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  When Iris had seen Julian’s name on the screen of her phone that morning, she let the call go to voice mail. She hadn’t wanted to talk to him until she stood beside the plane and knew she had the courage to board.

  And now here she was, in a setting she’d never imagined herself in: with nine hundred and ninety-nine other people, in a huge room filled with noise and flashes of light. A few months ago, the notion would have terrified her, and she’d had some anxious moments in the beginning, as the room started to fill. But she’d breathed through it, accepted the anxiety, and realized that there was nothing to fear.

  She even felt a sense of kinship with these strangers who loved Julian’s music and had chosen this concert as the perfect way to end a year and bring in the next.

  Also, it turned out that, sitting at a table on the mezzanine of a stunning restored ballroom, she was more of an “island” than on Destiny, where everyone minded one another’s business. In this room, people were in pairs or groups. If anyone even noticed her, they would assume she was waiting for a friend to return from getting a drink or visiting the restroom.

  She’d worried she might be recognized, from the video that had gone viral. But Vancouver had a huge Asian population, and she was just one slim, black-haired young woman among many. A few guys and a couple of women had asked her to dance or offered to buy her a drink, but when she’d said, “Thank you, but no,” they’d gone away.

  Her attention was focused on the stage, on Julian. He looked fabulous, in the typical tattered black jeans and tee he wore to perform, his tattoo twining along his muscled forearm. He sounded amazing and had a crazy kind of energy—fed, no doubt, from the spirited mood of this New Year’s Eve crowd and also, she hoped, from knowing she was here.

  He’d told her where to sit, so she’d have a good view of the stage. She doubted he could see her, what with the stage lighting focused on him and the band, but his gaze often seemed to rest on her.

  He loved her. She loved him. They were a couple. She didn’t know the details of how things would work out, but she and Julian would figure it out together, day by day. She was an iris and she might bend when the winds blew hard, but she would hold up her head and blossom for Julian.

  The band had been playing for an hour and a half, some of their old songs and some from their upcoming album, all equally well received, when Julian announced a fifteen-minute break.

  Iris wriggled her shoulders, realizing she’d been so absorbed in the music that she’d barely moved. A glance at her watch told her it was just past eleven. The next set would cross over into the New Year. What would the band do as midnight approached? A big countdown, a thousand people sharing the moment? The new Iris, the woman who loved and was loved by Julian, felt a pleasant anticipatory thrill.

  She pulled out her phone and texted her aunt, her parents, her girlfriends on Destiny and her old BFF, Shelley. Then she people-watched, relaxed in her anonymity. Much of the crowd were twenty- or thirty-somethings, but there were a number of middle-aged people and even some with gray hair. Clothing varied from minuscule skirts and cami tops to cowboy boots and hats to evening dress. Hairstyles and makeup were just as varied.

  She was about to reach for her glass of ginger ale with soggy lime and melted ice when a young woman with chopped-short hair and huge earrings, dressed in a figure-concealing black top and black leather pants, handed her a flute glass filled with sparkling liquid. “You’re her,” the woman said, “aren’t you? Julian’s girl. Iris. The ‘I believe in Julian’ woman.”

  Iris’s heart skipped. “I, uh . . .” Breathe. Stay even. You can handle this.

  “I won’t give you away. I just had to tell you what an inspiration he is. And you.”

  “An inspiration?” Curiosity chased her anxiety away.

  “My uncle abused me when I was a girl. For two years, and I didn’t tell. Then every time there was some family gathering and he was there, I felt like a victim all over again.” Her chin came up. “This year at Christmas, there he was again. And I thought of Julian and of how you supported him. So I went to the police.”

  “Oh my. I’m so sorry that happened to you, but congratulations on your bravery.”

  A smile trembled. “Thank you. Doing something like that, you sure find out who your friends are.”

  Concerned for her, Iris said, “You do. And I hope that . . .”

  The smile firmed. “Yeah, turns out I do have some. Like Julian, I’m lucky that way.” She glanced over her shoulder and wiggled her fingers at someone. “And I’m here with them tonight, so I better go. But thank you. Okay?”

  “I didn’t do anything. But you’re welcome. I’ll tell Julian. He’ll want to know.” Iris rose, saying, “What’s your name?”

  “Marianne.”

  Iris, who was shy with strangers, who didn’t believe in public displays of affection, gave the young woman a hug. “Happy New Year, Marianne.”

  Marianne hugged her back. “Thank you. Again. So much. Happy New Year to you, too, Iris. You and Julian.”

  When she had gone, Iris raised the flute glass in a toast to Julian, Marianne, and all the survivors, and then sipped the bubbly wine.

  A few minutes later, the band came back onstage, quickly tuned up, and began to play again. They alternated upbeat tunes, ones that got the audience jumping around on the dance floor, with slower ones, songs that had couples melting into each other’s arms. Iris didn’t even envy them because, when this concert ended, she’d be going home with the hot singer onstage.

  She and Julian would spend the early hours of the New Year in each other’s arms, making love with not only their bodies but their hearts and souls, creating the next verse of their love song and promising each other a future.

  Watching and listening to the band, Iris lost track of time. But it seemed Julian didn’t, because after the band finished one song, he exchanged a few quiet words with Roy, Camille, and Andi, and then he spoke into the mic.

  “In five minutes, it’ll be a New Year. This wasn’t how the band had planned to end the old one, but there’s something I want to do. To share. And my bandmates are kind enough to indulge me.”

  He plucked a couple of notes, no tune that Iris recognized, and then he went on. “I’m going to play this next one on my own because it’s brand-new. So brand-new, my band hasn’t even heard it yet. I’ve been working on it for a while, but I could never figure out the ending. Not until today. So bear with me if I fumble a little.”

  He paused, looked down at his guitar, and looked up again. “It’s the end of a year, and most of you know that the past month’s been tough for me. The fact that you’ve come here tonight, and many of you have supported me online, means a lot to me. Anyhow—”

  A call from the audience interrupted him, a female voice shouting, “We believe in you, Julian!”

  Others joined in, those who were sitting coming to their feet as a huge roomful of people chanted, “We believe in you, Julian!” over and over. His bandmates joined in and Iris was on her feet, too, but not calling out because tears clogged her throat.

  Julian looked stunned and uncharacteristically ill at ease on the stage he’d owned for the past hours, as noise and energy came at him from all corners of the room. Then he held up his arm, the tattooed one, and spoke into the mic. His voice didn’t cut through the chanting, but gradually the audience stopped so they could hear him.

  “Thank you,” he said. “That means more than you can possibly know.” He paused and then said, “As you can imagine, I’m looking forward to the New Year, and to moving forward now that I’ve done my best to exorcise the demons from my past.”

  He
glanced down at his guitar, played a couple more notes, looked back up. “This past year has also been the best year of my life, because of something that happened to me recently. I think you’ll understand what I mean when you hear this song.”

  He lifted his head and gazed straight toward where she sat.

  “It’s called ‘Iris,’” he said.

  If you enjoyed Sail Away With Me, be sure not to miss all of Susan Fox’s Blue Moon Harbor series, including

  COME HOME WITH ME

  It may be a dot in the Pacific Northwest, but tiny

  Blue Moon Harbor always has room for love . . .

  Miranda Gabriel has finally hit rock bottom. As a high school dropout, she fled Blue Moon Harbor and her shattered family life, and chased after love in all the wrong places. But now, as a single mom, her priority is her two-year-old daughter. Her only choice is to swallow her pride and return to the island she’s always hated. At least between working and studying, she’ll be too busy for romance—especially when the prospect is a nice guy, exactly the kind she knows she doesn’t deserve . . .

  The island veterinarian, Luke Chandler is a widower raising four-year-old twin boys. In high school, he found bad girl Miranda fascinating—and though life has changed them both, he’s still intrigued. Luke has known true love, and something about Miranda makes him long to experience it again. Yet he’s wary of opening himself, and his boys, to hurt. But his heart may not give him a choice. And together, maybe he and Miranda can give each other the courage to believe in themselves, and to embrace a promising new future . . .

  A Zebra mass-market paperback and eBook on sale now.

  Turn the page for a special look!

  “Guess what?” Miranda Gabriel’s brother cried, raising his girlfriend’s left hand like a boxing referee proclaiming the champ. “We’re engaged!”

  Diamonds sparkled on Eden’s finger, and when Miranda stared from the ring to Aaron’s face and his fiancée’s, their excitement was no less dazzling.

  Miranda’s heart sank like a heavy, cold stone.

  She had been peeling sweet potatoes in the big kitchen at SkySong when Aaron and Eden burst into the room. Tonight’s dinner at the serenity retreat was planned as a celebration of Eden’s tidying up all the details around the sale of her family’s home in Ottawa now that she, her parents, and her sister were becoming Destiny Island residents. Aaron, owner of Blue Moon Air, had flown over to Vancouver in his Cessna seaplane on this chilly, early December day to pick Eden up after her Ottawa flight. Now it seemed the celebration would be a dual-purpose one.

  “He proposed on the dock,” Eden said, her voice bubbly, neither she nor Aaron seeming to notice that their wet jackets were dripping on the terra-cotta-tiled floor. “Right there in the middle of Blue Moon Harbor.” She laughed up at him, her amber eyes glowing with happiness and love. “In the rain, and it was the most romantic thing in the world.”

  Engaged.

  Eden’s aunt and uncle, Di and Seal SkySong, who owned this rustically lovely retreat on four acres of waterfront, rushed over to the happy couple, offering hugs and congratulations. Miranda’s two-year-old daughter remained in her booster chair at the kitchen table, still absorbed in the tea party game she and Di had been playing with one of Ariana’s cloth fairy dolls. And Miranda herself stood rooted at the teal-topped kitchen counter, her feet as leaden as her heart.

  Of course she’d known where Aaron and Eden’s relationship was heading. In truth, the depressed, pessimistic, defeated spot in her soul, the one she hated to surrender to, had known ever since that day back in June. The day when her pride had hit an all-time low. Evicted from her tiny apartment, without the funds to rent another, she’d felt worthless and powerless. For the sake of her precious daughter, she had phoned Aaron and admitted she had no choice but to accept his offer of help. There she’d been, more pathetic than ever before in her life. She’d had no strength left, no option but to leave Vancouver and drag herself and Ariana to Destiny Island, a place she’d always hated, to shelter under her big brother’s roof.

  But Aaron, the one person who’d always been there for her, was away in Ottawa, visiting a woman he’d just met.

  Sight unseen, Miranda—selfish bitch that she was—had hated Eden Blaine for threatening the one bit of stability in her and Ariana’s lives. But then she’d met the smart, sensitive, beautiful Eden, seen her with Aaron, listened to what her brother said and didn’t say. She’d seen that despite the huge problems the two lovers had faced, Eden made him happy. And Aaron’s happiness was the second-most important thing in the world to Miranda. Only the welfare of her daughter ranked higher.

  Now, realizing she’d been silent too long, she forced herself to walk across the kitchen. Normally she found this room so warm and welcoming, with its white-painted wood and brick walls and cabinets, accented by a hodgepodge of vividly colored chairs, kitchen accessories, and artwork. But today her heart was a frozen lump in her chest and it would take a lot more than Di and Seal’s cheerful, eclectic décor to warm it.

  Throwing her arms around the happy couple, she squeezed both of them, but Aaron a little harder. Her handsome, dark-haired brother, her best and only real friend for all their lives, now belonged to someone else. “I’m so happy for you guys.”

  It wasn’t a lie. Honestly, it wasn’t. It was just a truth that jostled uneasily side by side with her selfishness and her envy. The guy who’d been so cynical—or, as he called it, realistic—about love had had, for the very first time, the guts to throw his heart into the ring. And what did he get? A freaking happy ending. As compared to her. She truly did believe in love and she’d been brave enough to go for it, to love and lose and try again, over and over. She’d been doing it ever since she was a tiny child hoping against hope that one day her mom would love her and be there for her. And yet here she was, twenty-seven years old and still alone.

  So many times, as the children of a cocaine-addicted prostitute, she and Aaron had been the kids left outside, looking in windows at happy families eating together, at stores full of shiny new toys and games, at grocery shelves stocked with more food than anyone could possibly eat in a lifetime. Wanting, always wanting, but not getting.

  Now Aaron had crossed over and he was on the inside. And she was left outside, no longer shoulder to shoulder with her big brother but all by herself.

  She drew in a long breath, trying to flush the sour gray tang of depression and self-pity from her mind and heart. The fact was, she wasn’t alone; she had Ariana. Having a daughter made life so much richer and more wonderful but also created pressures so heavy that a few months back, Miranda had almost cracked under them. Because it was one thing to be strong and resourceful enough to look after yourself. It was quite another when you were responsible for a small, fragile human being who deserved so much more than you’d ever been able to give her.

  Miranda went over to the table where her beloved black-haired fairy princess of a daughter had stopped playing with her doll and, it seemed, belatedly come to the realization that everyone’s attention was focused elsewhere than on her. Her cute face had gone pouty, a warning that a TTT—terrible two tantrum, as Miranda called them—was threatening to explode, as so often happened when the toddler felt neglected or thwarted.

  “Sweetie, this is so exciting,” Miranda said, hoisting her mocha-skinned daughter, so unlike her own fair self, into her arms. The familiar weight and warmth, the delicate scent of the baby oil Di made from the petals of wild roses, soothed Miranda’s nerves.

  Forcing enthusiasm into her voice, she brought the little girl over to the newly engaged couple. “Uncle Aaron is getting married.” She glanced at his fiancée, the walnut-haired lawyer who’d given up her entire life in Ottawa to move to Destiny Island. “I guess that’s going to make you Aunt Eden?”

  Eden beamed, her happiness so vivid that, if Miranda had been a normal woman rather than a seething mess of insecurities, she’d have found it contagious. “I can’t think of a bigger hono
r.” She took Ariana’s small hand gently in hers. “What do you think, Fairy-ana?” The nickname had been bestowed by Aaron a few months before, when his niece became obsessed with fairies. “Will you let me be your aunt Eden?”

  Now that the attention was back on her, Ariana was happy. “An-te-den?” she ventured.

  “That sounds so good,” Eden said, turning to put her arm around Aaron, as if she couldn’t bear to go more than a moment without touching him.

  “It sure does,” he said.

  Oh God, Miranda’s big brother, the guy who’d taught her to shoplift and pick pockets as necessities of survival, had gone all schmaltzy. With a reluctant grin, she had to admit it was actually pretty adorable.

  And it was high time she stopped being so freaking pathetic and looked on the bright side. Aaron’s happiness proved he’d been wrong to say that love wasn’t in the cards for either of them. She was right: they could find true love. They could beat their track record of being unloved by their mom, their two dads—because, in truth, she and Aaron were half siblings—and their grandparents.

  But right now wasn’t the time to muse about love. She had to think about her and Ariana’s immediate future. They couldn’t keep living in the guest room at Aaron’s small log home. That arrangement wasn’t fair to him and Eden.

  Resting her right hand on her shirtsleeved left forearm, she summoned the power of the tattooed dragon that lay beneath the faded blue cotton. The dragon that symbolized her strength and ability to cope with whatever life tossed her way.

  Eden’s aunt and uncle got back to the dinner preparations, Seal taking over the sweet potatoes Miranda had abandoned. Eden and Aaron went into the mudroom to take off their jackets and boots, then returned, pulled out chairs at the table, and sat down side by side, hands linked.