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Back Devotion Save as PDF
Chapters (47)
  1. Cover
  2. Prologue
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. Acknowledgments
  46. About the Author
  47. About the Publisher

Lonnie said suddenly, “To not have children is to live always in fear—of pregnancy, of what it would be like, of regret. To have children is to live with fear for the children, for the rest of your life.”

Carlow sighed and interjected impatiently, “You’re going to meet some perfect guy, Elle. And none of this will matter.” He turned to Lonnie, “Isn’t that right? Isn’t that what happened?”

I couldn’t make out her reaction; her face was turned away from me. I thought, Are we starting this already? I had every expectation of this trip escalating toward a breaking point for their love triangle. That’s why they needed a new house—all those extra rooms—to guard against the encroaching claustrophobia. Something was closing in on us.

23

THE DIFFERENCE IN LIGHT FROM THE NIGHT BEFORE WAS EXTREME. The sky was cloudless and the sun, even in early morning, washed everything out except the lush green of the grass around the house and the frothy blue of the ocean.

William was delighted with the sand, running it through his tiny fingers, charmed with his own inability to hold it. He was equally enchanted with the waves lapping the shore and the blue expanse in front of him. We all watched him stare and grin. I thought of a story I’d read in one of Lonnie’s books. A man goes to a beach and suddenly cannot tell the difference between the organic and the inorganic. Everything around him breathes and grows.

The day ahead of us felt long.

Robert had stayed back at the house, claiming to lack patience for sand. I hoped Lonnie would be happier without him. On the beach she changed into a bathing suit by pulling the top of her sundress down to her belly. I didn’t look at her breasts before she covered them. I looked at James watching her. I looked at Carlow trying not to watch her, his head turned uncomfortably to the side, as if he were just absorbed in the landscape.

The sundress slithered off her hips and she stretched her arms over her head, lengthening the whole of her body. She left us to swim while I fed William cheese and crackers from the cooler. When she returned, dripping, she inhaled more than her share of our food, but none of us said anything.