by Lily Foster
“How many times have you been there?”
I shake my head as I actually try to come up with a number. “I don’t even know…So many times that I couldn’t say.”
“Do you remember the name of the restaurant? I’ll put it on my list for when I go back.”
“It was after a long day of bar hopping around the Village. Thompson Street, maybe off Bleeker? I don’t remember the name.”
“I tried baked clams for the first time in New York. We ate at an Italian restaurant in the Theater District that you’d probably consider a tourist trap because you’re a snob—”
“Am not!”
She talks right over me. “—but I loved it.”
I’m quiet for a moment, not entirely sure if I should put this out there so soon. “I was thinking about surprising Olivia with a trip to New York for her birthday.”
Skylar smiles and closes her eyes like she’s lost in a good memory. “She would absolutely love that.”
“It’s coming up at the end of the month and there’s a school holiday on that Monday, so I was thinking we could make a long weekend of it.”
She takes another bite and nods as she chews. “I saw it on our district calendar…A religious holiday. It’s either Rosh Hashanah or Yom Kippur, right?”
“I’m not sure which. So that works with your schedule? You’ll come?”
“You want me to come with you?”
“I want you there, yeah.”
She goes quiet, looks down into her lap for a moment before she meets my eyes with a soft smile. “Then I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Skylar
“I don’t think you can cram anymore tinsel onto that tree, Libs.”
“Sure I can,” she says as she tosses some more in the general vicinity of the tree, moving her arms like she’s sprinkling fairy dust. “See?”
“I stand corrected. Here,” I hand her one of the ornaments from the storage box, “let’s start hanging these.”
After hanging that first one she comes over to pick through the box herself. “Ooh, a snowman.”
“I like that one. And look at this…Mickey Mouse in a Santa hat.” I hand it to her so she can hang it and then start rummaging deep into the box. “Minnie must be around here somewhere.”
Leo comes in with a paper bag. “I just remembered the ones from our trip. They were still in your luggage, Olivia.”
She comes over and helps him to unwrap them from the tissue paper. The first one is a snow globe with the Empire State Building standing tall amid the other skyscrapers, a Broadway street sign and a big apple inside. That was my corny pick, and Leo teased me unmercifully after I bought it from that street vendor.
“Hand it over,” I order him with a phony frown, and then shake it and smile as the snow falls over that magical cityscape.
Then there’s an oversized Olaf wearing a pink bedazzled scarf. Olivia takes it and says, “This one is my favorite,” as she circles the tree looking for a prime location.
Leo unwraps the last one. He looks at the little figure in his hands and then looks back to me smiling.
“What is that?”
He holds it up to show me as Olivia comes back over. Her eyes go wide. “The hot dog man!”
And yes, it’s a replica of one of those sidewalk hot dog carts, complete with the umbrella and a man dressed in an apron. “That’s adorable! When did you get that?”
“While you two were busy bankrupting me in the American Girl store, I went into some cheesy tourist shop to kill some time.”
Handing it over to Olivia, he says, “It was either that one or the Rockettes kick line. But I figured we’d get that next time...Maybe we’ll catch the Christmas show at Rockefeller Center next year.”
I waggle my eyebrows. “The Rockettes, huh?”
Leo pulls me onto his lap. “I like dancers.”
When Libs comes over he pulls her in and starts tickling us both. We’re laughing and breathless and screaming for him to stop when the three of us fall onto the rug in a heap.
I roll onto my back, still laughing, and Olivia settles into the crook of my arm. She has tinsel in her hair and her cheeks are bright red, and I’m sure I look the same.
When I look to Leo I see that he’s sitting up again and watching us. It’s hard to read his expression.
“What’s up?”
“Huh?”
“You look like this,” I tell him, contorting my face into a super serious pout.
Olivia jumps on the bandwagon, making the same face. “Yeah, Daddy, you look like a grump.”
I raise an eyebrow and fix her with a look. “We said we’re not using that word anymore, remember?”
Olivia gets up and brushes the pine needles and tinsel from her leggings, walking back over to admire the tree. So quietly that she thinks no one else can hear, she says, “But he does look like a grump sometimes.”
She’s right, but I don’t like teasing Leo that way anymore. I’ve come to realize that his grumpy exterior can be a front for times when he’s worried about Libby, about me, or on rare occasions, about work-related stuff. So no more making fun. The people in your life who love you are supposed to be there to make it better and to ease those worry lines.
Moving back onto his lap, I wrap my arms around his neck. “Is everything all right?”
“Better than all right. I’m happy.”
“You looked worried or something for a minute there.”
He lets out a soft laugh. “Grumpy dudes tend to do that. We worry whenever we’re happy.”
“You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, huh?”
“It’s feels too good to be true, you know?”
“No.” I shake my head before planting one soft kiss on his cheek. “This is how it’s supposed to be, Leo. Trust in this.”
“They’re here!” Olivia runs over to us. “Quick, get the gate!”
We ordered a gate, outlet covers and rubber bumpers to cover every sharp edge on the first floor in preparation for the arrival of the Messiah, otherwise known as my nephew, James.
“Ta-da!” Olivia calls out as Garth comes in carrying James’s car seat with Sienna following behind. “We got a gate so James can’t eat the tree!”
Sienna and I start cracking up at that one but Garth nods his head, all serious. “You’re always thinking, Olivia. He’d make a meal out of that tinsel.” They fist bump as he says, “Good job.”
“Is James crawling yet?” she asks Sienna.
“He gets up on his hands and knees and rocks back and forth, so it should be soon. C’mere and give me a hug.”
“You smell good,” Olivia says as she nestles into Sienna’s arms.
“I was baking all morning so I should smell good!”
I peek into the containers Sienna set down on the table when she came in. “Apple pie with extra crust baked into the shape of a Christmas tree on top, cupcakes with reindeer faces and sugar cookies in the shape of Santa hats.” Shaking my head I look back to my sister. “Even if this stuff doesn’t taste good you get an A for effort.”
“As if.” She scoffs. “I could win the Great American Bake-Off with that apple pie.”
And with John Legend’s Bring Me Love playing in the background, I start rocking from side to side and then break into a sexy little shimmy. “Don’t know about a bake-off, but I’m pretty sure I can take you in a dance-off nowadays.”
“Did you hear that, Olivia?” She comes next to where I’m standing in the kitchen and hip checks me off balance. “Thems fightin’ words!”
“Yeah, thems fightin’ words!” my little traitor says as she comes over and takes Sienna’s hand. And watching Olivia as she tries to imitate every single step my sister takes, I’m overcome with this feeling of goodness and love for every person in this house.
For a moment I think to myself that it’s like Leo says, too good to be true, but it’s really not.
This love? It’s true.
/> I trust in this.
Leo
After dinner, lots of wine and way too much dessert, we get Olivia to bed and then get Garth and Sienna settled in the guest room with James.
Tipsy Skylar looks to me smiling. “Um, where am I sleeping tonight?”
We’ve been careful not to do anything that will confuse Olivia, but Skylar has stayed over at the house at least one night a week since she moved out after the summer. It’s just more convenient. And yeah, better for me and for Sky.
I take Skylar out every Friday night, and it’s something I look forward to all week. It’s nothing crazy; we usually just split a bottle of wine over dinner, catch up and share what went on during our week.
Then we come back to the house and suffer through Maureen’s goodnight routine, where she waggles her eyebrows, winks and basically does everything short of flinging a box of condoms at us.
And then I take Skylar upstairs to bed, never wanting to stop, never wanting the night to end.
Before we drift off I make sure to turn on the monitor I still have set up for Olivia’s room because I’m a worrywart, and the alarm on my phone that I always set for six in the morning.
I know we have at least half an hour then. Thirty minutes to kiss her sleepy eyes awake, to let her crawl on top of me and strip out of her tank top as I watch, to enjoy the pleasure of my body waking up in the best way possible, and to hold her close for a few minutes as the skies gradually shift from coal to gray to pale blue.
I want her here in my bed every night, want to wake up with her in my arms every single morning. Good things come to those who wait. That’s what I keep telling myself.
“You’re with me tonight. Is that all right?”
She wears a contented smile. “Better than all right.” She takes her phone from her back pocket. “I’m setting the alarm extra early, though. I think Libs might spring out of bed earlier than usual tomorrow. That disastrous weekend when I babysat for him last spring…Remember that?”
Yep, I think to myself, I remember it well.
“Olivia was up at the crack of dawn that morning. No doubt she’ll be looking to play with James bright and early tomorrow.”
“I’ll get up with her.”
She tilts her head and takes me in. “That’s the night that I knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That I was crazy about you.”
“I think you were dog tired and delirious.”
“Nope. When I saw you holding James I was a goner.”
“Same here.”
“What?”
“When I came in and saw you holding him, I just…I realized that I want that again.”
“A baby?”
I swallow, raise my head to her and nod. “I want that with you someday.”
She comes closer, slowly runs her fingers from my shoulder down to my wrist, and then takes me by the hand and leads me to bed.
I can touch her everywhere, kiss every inch of her skin, come inside of her bare, the way she likes it. And that’s exactly what I do.
It’s not happening tonight or anytime soon, and that’s all right. Skylar will finish her degree, a school will scoop her up as soon as she graduates, and I have no doubt that she’ll make an incredible teacher. She wants that and I want it for her.
But someday I’m going to get down on my knee before her and put a ring on her finger. I’ll stand by her side at the altar and pledge before God that I will love her forever. Someday I want my son or daughter to grow inside of this woman I love, to feed at her breast and to be cradled in our arms. I want to make a family for Olivia with Skylar.
“I love you, Sky.”
I say those words so often, but tonight I say them with her hand in mine, side by side as we drift off to sleep.
Thank you for reading Skylar and Leo’s love story. The Blackbird series continues with Ghost on the Shore, Grace’s story. Secrets, lies and regrets. The people closest to Grace Dawson think they know her well, but they have no idea…
How many times have I stood on the bank of this river feeling the weight of the things I’ve done?
After all these years, I don’t know if I come here for you, if I come here looking for forgiveness, or if I come here trying to find myself.
I’ve told so many lies, kept so much of myself hidden that I feel like an imposter in this life I’ve built. I’ve got my dream job, I’ve got family—even got myself a good man. But it’s all wrong. It’s like living in a house of cards with a hurricane bearing down on you.
Without you, I’m nothing more than a ghost on the shore.
The January wind whips my hair and freezes the stray tears on my cheeks. The rock I’m standing on is icy, and this isn’t the first time I’ve been tempted to let myself go, to slip in and sink under. But I won’t do that because someday you might come looking for me.
Reaching up to touch that spot on the back of my neck, I know I’ll never forget you.
I made sure of that, little blackbird.
Order your copy now…
Ghost on the Shore
Also by Lily Foster
The Let Me Series
Let Me Be the One
Let Me Love You
Let Me Go
Let Me Heal Your Heart
Let Me Fall
When I Let You Go
The Blackbird Series
When the Night is Over
Your Hand in Mine
Ghost on the Shore
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Copyright © 2020 by Lily Foster
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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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