“We are.”
“Do you mind driving to Port Somers to the council and getting married in front of the magistrate? Or do you want to wait till we can drum a few people together as witnesses?”
“I don’t need anybody to be there with us, other than Rena. She will be part of our new life; she should be part of the wedding. I don’t need any more time. We can go today.”
“You make me the happiest man on the planet.”
I’m rolling my eyes. This is getting out of hand.
“I have to get used to you exaggerating all the time. Is this going to be a lasting trait? I’m not sure I like it much.”
“I don’t know what you would rather have me do.”
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
“Right now I wonder what a girl has to do to get a kiss. You’ve been talking forever and I’m sitting here thinking, when’s he going to get to the good bits, where I’m getting the kiss I’ve been waiting for? Should that not have happened before you even started, as a way of warming me up?”
Scott takes my head in his hands and his hungry lips caress mine, demanding a response in kind. He deepens his kiss and lets me know that I am his and he is mine.
Till death do us part—and beyond.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Lillybeth: 1 October 2017, Early Afternoon, Wright’s Homestead
Coming home is strange. Not much has changed and yet I feel a lightness as we drive along the coast. At the former Gateway compound, we stop at a large barrier and an even larger sign announcing the building of a state-of-the-art recycling plant.
Everything looks cleaner, newer, and fresher as if a tidal wave has cleansed the land of its human vermin and made space for new growth and new life. Port Somers is greeting us with sunshine and the first daffodils are blossoming in lovingly tended front gardens. Spring is sending its first messengers. Even the river, during summer meandering at leisure in its wide, stony bed, is whirling toward the ocean, brown with the run-off from the melting snow in the mountains.
Spring is in the air.
We turn at the same gravel road, which was no longer gravel but shows a new layer of asphalt. Our beloved Flatbush Valley Creek greets us with the gurgling of a young infant as it dances over the boulders overgrown with moss.
After three months of traveling through Australia with an RV and enjoying the stunning wilderness of the outback, we are home again. Scott stops the car before we reach the house and pulls an airline sleeping mask out of his pocket.
“Let me put it on you, so it’s a surprise!”
He opens the back door for Rena, then helps me out of the car.
“Give me your hand. I don’t want you to fall on our last twenty yards.”
I stretch out my arm and wait until he grabs my hand.
“I wondered why you asked the flight attendant for a mask.” I try to mock-box his arm but my fist only hits air. “How sneaky of you.”
Rena laughs and skips at my other side, as far as I can make out. Then she takes my free hand and they both lead me to the house. I hear the gate open and stop. Scott takes me into his arms and gives me a long, slow kiss that reminds me of all the reasons I’m in love with him.
He laughs, lifts me, and swings me around.
“You can take off your mask now.”
I do so and what I see takes my breath away. On the first glimpse, it looks like the same house is standing at the end of a newly paved path. Only that it’s much bigger than the old homestead had been. It proudly wears a fresh coat of paint, a new roof in fire-engine red, and the windows have new shutters. A white picket fence surrounds our house garden with a real gate and archway. Yes, everything is the same…but different.
The ghosts from the past have left. Everything is bright and inviting. The new extensions fit the old homestead like a glove. We step onto the porch at the front of the house where a wicker table and two comfortable wicker chairs are waiting for the five o’clock sundowner. Rena can’t wait and dances ahead to the front door with Madeline squeezed under her arm.
In awe, I turn to Scott. “You organized all that while we were in Australia? It is stunning, darling.” I reach up to him and kiss his cheek.
He pulls me along. “Come, see what we’ve done inside.”
We had everything discussed before we left on the trip, so I knew how things looked on the plan, but not in reality. He opens the door and my first impression is, it’s not my house. And it isn’t.
They painted the walls and the wooden floor has received a new coat of varnish. What used to be a small and cozy room acting as a kitchen, dining, and living room, has grown to a beautiful country kitchen with a stunning AGA cooker, a dining room with a table that seats six people, and a large living room with French doors leading to the back yard.
“You found me an AGA cooker? How?”
“I had to. Your old range needed updating. They couldn’t salvage it. Are you angry?”
“Oh no, not at all. Thank you so much. I always wanted an AGA.” Scott looks at me as if I’m not quite sane.
“You? Always?”
I burst out laughing. He’s right; I never have wanted anything to do with cooking or a cooker.
“I must be channeling Ama. How wonderful! I haven’t lost anybody.”
“Come and see our new bedrooms.”
Rena is shouting from upstairs. She sits in the middle of the floor of what is undoubtedly a girl’s bedroom with pink curtains and pink bedspreads, a bookshelf, a
