Page 101 of Island Girl

“It's going to be okay,” she said. “Whatever happens, you'll face it together.”

“Together,” Heather repeated, like she was trying the word on for size. “I like the sound of that.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon planning. Julie's flight would land at five. Paula would pick her up and bring her straight to Shorebirds, where Ray would be having his usual Coke and cheeseburger. Heather would be there too, sitting at the bar with her father, keeping him calm, keeping him present.

And Merritt would be behind the bar, watching, ready to help if needed. Ready to open another door.

Wednesday arrived with sunshine and salt air and a nervous energy that seemed to fill every corner of the island. Merritt got to Shorebirds early, unable to sit still at the bungalow, needing to do something with her hands.

Justin noticed immediately.

“You're wound tighter than a guitar string,” he said, watching her reorganize the garnishes for the third time. “What's going on?”

“Big night. Bigger than the lullaby.”

“That's possible?”

“Ray's ex-wife is coming. Julie. Heather's mother.”

Justin set down the glass he'd been polishing. “You're kidding.”

“Paula's picking her up from the airport right now. She should be here in a couple hours.”

“Does Ray know?”

“No. We're surprising him.” Merritt glanced at the door, even though she knew it was too early. “I hope we're doing the right thing.”

“You opened a door for Heather and look how that turned out. Maybe this is just the next door.”

“Maybe.” She took a breath. “Or maybe he's not ready. Maybe this is too much too fast.”

“Only one way to find out.”

Ray arrived at his usual time, settling onto his stool at the bar with a nod to Justin. “Coke and a cheeseburger,” he said, the same words he said every night now.

Heather was already there, sitting beside him, nursing a ginger ale. She'd been quiet all afternoon, her nervousness growing as the hours passed. But she smiled at her father when he sat down, and he smiled back, and Merritt felt her heart squeeze at the sight of them.

A week ago, they'd been strangers. Now they were learning how to be family.

At six-thirty, Paula's car pulled into the parking lot. Merritt saw it through the window, her pulse quickening. She watched Paula get out, walk around to the passenger side, open the door.

And there she was. Julie. A woman in her early forties with auburn hair and nervous hands, standing in the parking lot of a bar on Sanibel Island, about to see the man she'd married twenty years ago.

Paula said something to her. Julie nodded. They walked toward the door together.

Merritt caught Heather's eye and gave a small nod. Heather took a breath, her hand finding her father's arm.

“Dad,” she whispered. “There's someone here to see you.”

Ray looked up, confused. And then the door opened, and Julie walked in.

For a moment, everything stopped. The noise of the bar faded. The other customers disappeared. There was only Ray and Julie, two people who had loved each other once, who had built a life together, who had lost everything and somehow found their way back to this moment.

“Julie.” Ray's voice cracked on her name.

“Hi, Ray.”

Heather slid off her barstool, giving her mother space. Julie stood in front of Ray, her hands clasped in front of her like she didn't know what to do with them.