Sean glanced at Willa, who chattered about the fireflies that came out at night. Her daughter looked up suddenly, her blue eyes soft as she grinned. Sean smiled back.
That’s why. Her precious daughter. It was the one thing Sean had done right in her life. She wanted to somehow, someway keep a shred of balance alive in Willa. To allow her gracious memories of a magical childhood that she could look back on later in life, fond recollections that could bring a smile or make her heart feel glad. Things Sean could only imagine.
She prayed she could keep it up.
Nathan slowed the truck and turned into a long drive that led back to the river—much like at her and Willa’s place. It made sense, she thought, seeing how they were river neighbors. A large, stilted river house with a wide wraparound porch sat within an opening among the trees.
“Whoa,” Willa said in a low voice. “You live here?”
“Yep. Grew up here,” Nathan answered. “Come on,” he continued, and climbed out of the truck. “Let’s go meet everyone.”
“Come on, Mama!” Willa yelled, and followed Nathan out of his side of the truck.
With a deep breath to steady her nerves, Sean climbed out. Giant oaks laden with long Spanish moss formed a canopy over the house and yard. A large metal building stood off to one side farther back. And an arbor of some sorts sat to the left of the porch. Big blooms of hydrangea graced each side of the porch steps. On the porch an old man was sitting in a rocking chair, then stood slowly.
Like some Norman Rockwell picture.
Walking around the front of the truck, Sean joined Nathan and Willa. He watched her closely. Crickets and cicadas chirped, filling the air with bug-song. Somewhere close, the saw grass rustled as a breeze rushed through the salt marsh. In the distance, oyster shoals bubbled in the low-tide mud.
Noises that, only recently, had become familiar to her.
Oddly, Sean found she liked it.
“Will you all quit lingering around the yard and get over here?” the old man called. “I’m tired of waitin’.”
“Who is that?” Willa asked.
“That’s the king,” Nathan said with a grin. “He’s been dying to meet you both.”
With that, Nathan inclined his head to Sean, a motion to follow, and Willa bound ahead of them both, wings flapping, her skinny legs eating up the ground as she headed for the elderly stranger. This was a side of Willa that Sean admired and also feared: she didn’t meet a stranger. Ever.
Sean glanced at Nathan. “Sure hope your grandpa is up for Willa’s energy.”
Nathan grinned. “I have a feeling they’re going to get along pretty good.”
As they made their way to the porch, even though Nathan walked beside her, he definitely kept his distance. She had to admit that the rugged shrimp boat captain made her curious. While his looks appeared a bit rough—even his walk had a certain swagger to it—Sean felt there was something solid in Nathan. Safety, perhaps? No, not that. Maybe she simply recognized the same reserve she had. He’d been polite but never pushy. He seemed to respect her boundaries. Maybe his reserve was personally motivated. In a way, he seemed to want to keep distance between them, the very same as she did.
Nathan cleared his throat, and a sheepish grin stretched the scar in his lip. “I’m going to apologize right now for anything uncouth my grandfather says. He is sort of lacking a filter. There’s no stopping him, I’m afraid.”
A nervous laugh escaped Sean. Strangely enough, Nathan’s hesitancy put her at ease. Somewhat, anyway. “It’s okay. He may have met his match in my daughter. Also filterless.”
Nathan gave a soft laugh. “So I’ve noticed.”
By the time they reached the porch, Willa and the older man were already deep in conversation, which worried Sean. But as they joined them, their banter eased her mind.
“They aren’t real wings,” Willa said. “See? I put my arms through here.” She demonstrated the removal of her costume wings while the old man watched intently.
His bushy white eyebrows lifted, raising the bill of his USCG cap. “Huh.” Then he rose from his bent-at-the-waist stance and crossed his arms over his chest. “I ain’t buyin’ it. Fairies are known to be pranksters. You might be pullin’ my leg right now.”
Willa’s brow scrunched up. “What’s a prankster, King Jep?”
“Well, you know, child,” Jep remarked, “a trickster. A mischief-maker. Someone who tries to play tricks on old folk.”
Willa’s already-wide eyes stretched even wider at the accusation. “I wouldn’t do that!”
A smile tipped Jep’s mouth. “Well, that’s good to know, Willa.” His glance moved to Sean, and his brow furrowed as he gave her a thorough and silent inspection.
“This is Sean Jacobs, Willa’s mom. This is, uh—” Nathan chuckled “—King Jep.”
“Yeah, Mama, he’s the King of Sea Diamonds, he told me so,” Willa added.
“Nice to meet you, darlin’,” King Jep said, offering his hand. Sean took it and he squeezed, not too hard but firm. She did the same. “Sean, eh? Good, stout Irish name.” He threw Sean a curious glance. “Usually reserved for the menfolk. No matter. Welcome to our home, darlin’.”
“Thank you for inviting us for dinner,” Sean said, trying not to sound nervous. “Sea diamonds?”
Jep dropped his hand. “Shrimp, darlin’. Shrimp! The most perfect creature God created, just ahead of the chicken.” His head cocked sideways as he considered her, giving her a head-to-toe glance. “You’re a skinny thing. You ain’t got worms, do you?” He winked. “I’ll put some meat on your bones.”
“Jeez, Jep,” Nathan chided, then shrugged and looked at Sean. “See? No filter. Sorry.”
“Hey, why do your blue pants go all the way up to your neck?” Willa asked Jep.
Nathan laughed, and Sean gave him and Jep a sheepish grin as she felt her cheeks turn red. “I’m kinda used to no filter, as you can see.”
“Filters are overrated anyway,” Jep stated bluntly, then looked at Willa. “Well, I imagine it’s because I don’t like wearin’ a belt, and these stay up.” He grasped one strap, showing it to Willa. “Overalls, darlin’. Keeps my britches up!”
Willa giggled then followed Jep as he shuffled down the steps. “Come on, then,” he called over his shoulder. “Supper won’t cook itself now, will it?”
“King Jep, is your kitchen outside?” Willa asked.
“One of them is,” he replied.
Nathan inclined his head. “After you.”
Sean gave another hesitant smile as she watched her young daughter bounce up and down as she accompanied a man almost a century old. “Willa has found a new buddy, so it seems.”
Nathan shoved his hands into his shorts pockets. “Might be a recipe for disaster.”
“It might,” she said as they followed Jep and Willa.
Just then, the breeze brought with it the sound of very old music, like maybe from the World War II era, or older.
“Jep, my middle brother and his wife all love the old tunes,” he stated. “From the twenties and thirties, mostly. My little brother is in love with seventies classic rock. The result is a cluster of strange and great music. You’ll