Page 110 of Summer Nights in Pine Harbor

I spied something out of the corner of my eye. ‘What’s that?’

He turned. ‘That, my love, is your birthday picnic.’

‘My birthday picnic?’

He nodded. ‘Your birthday picnic.’

‘It’s raining.’

‘Barely.’

‘The ground is wet.’

‘I have a waterproof blanket.’ He grinned. ‘You’re not going to let a little bit of wet grass stop us, are you?’

‘Well, no. But…’

He kissed the tip of my nose. ‘We never got to finish our last picnic,’ he said. ‘The one when I asked you to stay.’

I pulled a face. ‘No thanks to Hannah.’

‘Yes, no thanks to Hannah. Who messaged this morning, by the way.’

‘How is she?’

‘Good. Still going to meetings, and counselling. She just hit one hundred and seventy-nine days sober.’

‘Good for her.’

‘Yeah. Baby steps, but I’m cautiously optimistic. I think being around her family is the best thing for her.’

‘The restorative power of love.’

He smiled. ‘Indeed.’

‘What’s in the basket?’

‘All your favorites of course.’ He released me from his embrace, taking my hand and leading me over to the basket. Pulling out a bottle of raspberry kombucha, he passed me two glasses.

‘Hold these for me while I pour, will you.’

When the glasses were full, he recapped the bottle and put it back into the basket.

‘We’ll have a proper toast with wine tonight, of course,’ he explained. ‘But I figured this would do for now.’ Raising his glass, he smiled. ‘Happy birthday, Taylor and Cal.’

I smiled back, tapping his glass with mine. I had never been happier. Never dared to believe I could be this happy. But Jack had shown me that I deserved this and more.

Pine Harbor had always been home, even when I’d lost sight of that. It had taken Jack to remind me that home wasn’t a building, a town, or memories. It was found in community, in belonging, in a feeling. Home was love.

* * *