It still amazed him.
Birthdays, Christmases, anniversaries of their parents' death, Finn was absent. Lost to Simon and Delora in a foreign land, never knowing where he was or if he was safe. Always the fear he was in danger. The rare times he did get to see his brother, the situation was always strained, like being on American soil burned Finn's feet.
Now it was different. Without a thought, Simon could hop in his car and less than a half an hour later walk round the back of his brother's house, slap the man on the back, talk to him. At first, he'd politely knocked on the bright red front door to the lake house, waited to be let in. But soon enough that became too formal. No need for it, just come around through the kitchen, he was told. The side door never locked–open to family. And for the first time in a long time, Simon had a family again.
Rounding the house, he spotted Emily sitting on a lounger, completely covered by the shade of a giant umbrella the colour of the ocean.
"You all alone?"
"Finn's driving Mary to the station."
Panic licked at Simon's heart. Was she gone? No, he hadn't had enough time. Their one date had ended abruptly, and with Emily's illness, they hadn't had a chance to go out again. Or do anything again. Not even a stolen kiss. Okay, there had been some compassionate hugs, which he had to admit were pretty amazing, despite the circumstances. To hold Mary, feel her melt into him, was a dream come true. When she put her arms around him, the sensation of being whole sank in. A man could get addicted. Oh, who was he fooling? He was addicted.
"Don't worry," Emily smiled. "She'll be back."
"Oh." The panic subsided a little. When? A week? Would he have to wait months?
"She's babysitting for Beth and Lance. They needed a date night."
"That's generous of her."
"Despite popular belief, my sister does have a beating heart under her hard exterior. But of course, you of all people already know this."
His hand reached for his temple, rubbing small circles into the skin. "Is it that obvious?"
Simon wanted to say more. It was not like he could talk to Finn about this. His brother's attitude towards Mary may have turned from ice to a slightly frosty over the past week. Mary's attention to her sister's needs, to Finn's wants, the cause. Still, he doubted Finn would be open to a conversation about Simon's feelings towards the woman who, as Finn constantly reminded him, had caused the newlyweds to lose eight years of their lives together.
Emily invited Simon to sit on the lounger beside her, with a pat on the sea-shell patterned cushion. "Don't look so sad. It's a good thing."
Taking the offer, he perched on the edge of the seat. "It... it doesn't bother you?"
"Why would it?"
"Well... we... isn't it a constant reminder of... what we did."
"Simon, I told you, the past is in the past." Emily placed her hand on her stomach. "I live in the present and look to the future."
"But... Finn?"
"My husband is trying too, as well. I mean, he is driving Mary to the station today. Did you ever think they would voluntarily get into a car together, just the two of them?"
He smiled along with his sister-in-law. "Not in a million years."
"We only want our family to be happy. And you're both part of the family." She leaned toward him. "An important part."
A warm breeze from the lake ruffled the umbrella, giving Simon a moment to find his voice after Emily's reassurance. He would never stop being astonished by Emily's kindness.
"I see a change in Mary, since she's been here, been near you. I see glimpses of the sister I grew up with, the carefree girl who didn't try to control everything. The other day I even caught her drawing again."
"Really?" Simon thought about the picnic and the excitement in Mary's voice when they'd talked about her hobby. "I don't understand why she gave it up."
Emily's mouth pressed into a line. "I suspect my father influenced her. Didn't want a starving artist in the family. Convinced her politics was a better pursuit, more... lucrative."
From the moment he'd met Emily she'd been on the trajectory to be a lawyer. Their younger sister Beth was always the wild child, never setting on anything. But Mary had been the dreamer. As teens they'd fantasized about travelling the world together, eating the local dish of every place they stopped at, climbing every monument, visiting every museum. Then it all overnight one day, Mary sour on the small town life, living in the moment.
It was hard to think anyone influenced Mary Montgomery. Headstrong and sure of herself was how Simon saw her. Every interaction between them, Mary steered the ship. Mary controlled the situation. Until he'd pushed back.
They were so opposite in this regard. Simon knew he had a reputation for being Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky, which served him well in business. Most of the time, he was glad to go with the flow, take the path of least resistance. But sometimes... sometimes he desired a challenge, a reason to fight for something. Or someone.
Was it like this for Mary? Was there a part of her that desired someone to take the reins, relieve her of the burden of managing and perfecting every interaction, every perception? It must be tiring keeping her world buttoned up and maintaining the illusion.
"Not that she'd ever admit it," Emily continued. "We used to be so close. Then I don't know, she..."
"Changed?"
Her glossy grey irises met his. "Yes."
He nodded. "After... your mother died."
"We all grieve differently but... I don't know. It's like she retreated into this shell and I haven't been able to crack it open. Get my sister back."
Simon hadn't thought about Mary like this. He'd only considered his own feelings, how she reacted to him. He'd lost the vivacious girl who blushed as she flirted with him at the Waterfront, only seeing glimpses of her in the moments they were alone together. But it was true. Mary was different with everyone. Distant from her sisters, her friends.
"Maybe together we could find her again."
The offer stunned Simon. "You... you want me to..."
"I want you to be happy. I want you both to have what I have."
"I want that too." The words slipped from his mouth and once in the world, now he'd admitted it out loud, Simon stood behind them, felt a confidence, a solidness to them. For years he'd stayed in Bridgetown, never straying far, just in the hopes Mary would walk through the doors of the Waterfront Cafe. Never confessing to a soul about what was in his heart. It felt good to talk about his feelings for Mary freely and openly. And to have someone on his side.
"Good. So, we agree."
He rubbed his temple. "Um... to be clear. What are we agreeing on?"
Emily laughed, a light, joyful sound that touched his heart. "Encouraging the Mary we both love to return to us."
We both love. Emily did see everything.
"It's a deal."
Emily held up her hand. "Pinky swear?"
Simon hooked his pinky finger around her outstretched smallest finger. "Pinky swear." He shook his head.
"What?"
"The irony of a swear that is pink. Perfect for Mary." Emily caught on, and a grin graced her face. Her pale complexion glowing in the late afternoon sun. Was there a little more colour there today? "How are you feeling today?"
"The fresh air helps."
"Do you need anything? Should I get you some water?"
Emily shook her head. "I'm okay Simon. Really."
Since coming home from the doctor's office, Finn hadn't left the house, refusing to be out of earshot of his wife in case she needed anything. If he'd taken Mary to the station, this was a good sign. His brother must have confidence Emily's health was improving.
"Good. Cause you have to stop taking care of others all the time and take care of yourself."
"Aye, Aye, Capitan."
"You must have me confused with my brother," he joked.
"Speak of the devil."
Simon looked over his shoulder at where Emily's eyes had wandered. Finn strode across the green grass of the back lawn, his casual t-shirt and shorts matching his attitude. Without hesitation, his brother knelt before his wife, took her hand in his and pressed it to his lips. "Is my brother bothering you, my little one?"
Simon held his breath for a brief moment, thinking Finn was serious, but let the air return to his lungs at the smile on the tall man's face when he turned to him and winked. "More like you interrupted a pleasant afternoon, little brother."
His brother settled his tall frame down beside him on the lounger. "Ah, sorry, she's taken. All mine. And as you know, I never was good at sharing."
"I remember. You always hogged all the strawberry ice cream."
"True." Finn slapped his brother on the back. "Speaking of food, staying for dinner?"
Simon didn't think this day could get any better.