“But how will it work? The boys went back to school this week. I was planning to buy a house with a yard and a dog. George embraced the idea of having a room at the museum devoted to PTSD. If we get it past the board, I want to oversee the project. I’ll want to be involved if Daddy’s house is enshrined.” She looked at him ruefully. “And you live in Virginia.”
“Right. We’ve got some stuff to sort out, but they’re practical matters. Nothing insurmountable. So long as I meet deadlines and attend an occasional editorial meeting, my job is more or less portable.
“I may read Flora’s diary, or not. I’ll draft a story about Hawkins and then decide if I want it to be published. If not, I’ll write about something else. And when the boys get old enough to learn about their lineage, we’ll explain it. They’ll come to terms with it just as I have. We’ll help them with whatever problems arise. The point is, we don’t have to figure it all out today. We can’t figure it all out today.”
Placing his lips against hers, he whispered, “We’re past the heavy stuff, Amelia. By comparison, the rest of it will be a breeze. Let’s let up on ourselves for a while. We’ll make decisions on an as-needed basis, love each other like crazy, and live one day at a time.”
She smiled against his lips. “Sounds like a plan. I’m especially fond of the part about loving each other like crazy.”
“Yeah, I like that part, too.”
He cupped the back of her head and was settling in for a long, deep kiss, when she groaned, “We’ve got company.”
Hunter and Grant, still in pajamas, were racing toward them, their bare feet thudding on the boardwalk.
Amelia yelled at them to be careful of splinters but the caution didn’t slow them down. Gleefully shouting his name, they ran pell-mell toward them.
She gave him a dubious smile. “Are you sure you want to take them on?”
“That’s one decision already made.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist, so that when the boys tackled him into the sand, she went with him.