Sweat dribbles down my back in steady streams, the sun relentless in its beams. The group ahead of us finally moves ahead to the next hole, so we can stop standing around, baking in the heat.
“Easy angle,” my father says, carefully selecting a club and walking over to the waiting ball. But he surveys the course intently, not taking the shot immediately.
Crew groans, lifting his club and pressing it against the back of his neck as he looks up at the blue sky. “Just hit the damn ball, Dad.”
It’s crowded and hot, and our dad refuses to take anything less than a perfect shot.
Golf has never been Crew’s thing. My dad and I have played together a lot, but that was usually with possible clients. Never just the two of us.
But this outing was his idea, so here the three of us are, attempting to look past years of animosity and resentment and mistakes over the course of eighteen holes.
“Working in Hollywood has made you impatient.”
Crew rolls his eyes, then grabs a bottle of water from the golf cart. I stare at the motionless leaves on the palm tree until they begin to sway, the breeze off the water finally moving this way. The air is too warm to offer much relief, but it’s something. And despite the heat, the surroundings are beautiful. The lush green of the resort’s golf course stretches right up to one of the white beaches, with the turquoise water continuing into the horizon.
My dad finally takes his shot, rolling it close enough to the hole, he’ll probably make it on the next hit. Then, it’s Crew’s turn. His swing is weak, barely moving the ball. He scowls at my dad, who doesn’t offer a criticism, shockingly. My ball lands between theirs, not as close as my dad’s but not as far as Crew’s.
By the time we finish two more holes, my back is completely drenched with sweat. Crew and I exchange glances, and it’s like we’re kids again. Neither willing to break first.
Surprisingly, our father is the one who calls it first, suggesting we finish the course tomorrow. Crew and I quickly agree; Crew even more eagerly after our dad offers to take his kids for ice cream.
They drop me off at mine and Hannah’s private villa, after making plans to meet for dinner at six.
A gust of cold air greets me as I step inside the small house, the air conditioning raising goosebumps on my damp skin. There’s no sign of Hannah in the living room. I step into the bedroom, which is also empty, stripping off my sweaty polo and tossing it in a corner. I head toward the bathroom, where I left my swim trunks to dry last night.
To my surprise, the handle doesn’t move. It’s locked.
I knock. “Hannah?”
There’s a delay before she responds. “I thought you were out golfing.”
“It was crowded and hot, so we cut the trip short.”
And Crew started speeding after our dad offered to take Lili and Christopher to get ice cream. I’m certain how he’s hoping to spend his alone time with Scarlett, and I was thinking something similar with Hannah once I wash the sweat off in the pool or ocean.
“What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
The door opens so suddenly, I almost fall forward.
“Not currently, but I will be.” Hannah presses a piece of plastic against my chest, then walks past me into the bedroom and flops down on the bed.
I blink down at the pregnancy test. The positive pregnancy test.
“Wow.”
Hannah scoffs, then covers her eyes with her elbow. “My reaction was a little more extreme than that.”
I set the test down on the dresser and crawl onto the bed next to her. The bed faces the turquoise water, a private pool and patio the only thing separating the private villa from the sea. The view from our penthouse is nice but doesn’t beat this one.
Hannah rolls over, hooking a leg with mine. I run a hand up and down her arm.
“I didn’t think it would happen,” she says.
“I know.”
We tried to get pregnant about a year after our wedding. The timing seemed right, since she’d just stopped working at Garner Sports Agency in favor of starting an administrative job at an architecture firm, trying to decide if going back to school was what she really wanted.
After two years of unprotected sex, I think we both assumed we’d need to explore other avenues to parenthood. Something we’ve been too busy to discuss, let alone act on. Hannah just started her second year of architecture school. And I’ve been the CEO of Kensington Consolidated for nearly four years, which hasn’t decreased the number of hours I have to spend in the office by any stretch.
“You’re late?”
“Yeah. And I’ve felt nauseous for the past few days. I thought it was just jet lag and living above the ocean, but then I decided to take a test. It could be wrong, obviously. I don’t know how accurate they are.”
“Your boobs feel bigger,” I say, running my hand up her arm and across her chest to cup one breast. She’s wearing a flimsy bikini beneath her tank top. I feel her nipple pebble, reacting to my touch.
“That’s helpful, thanks.”
I chuckle, rolling so I’m hovering over her and can see her expression better. Balancing my weight on one elbow, I brush the hair away from her face.
“I hope it’s right. If it’s not, we can keep trying.”
Hannah chews her bottom lip. “I could never tell how disappointed you were…”
I exhale, knowing this is something we probably should have talked about more. We both assumed this moment would have happened a while ago. Then got used to it never appearing.
“I didn’t know either, honestly. But I’m happy, Han.”
“I’m terrified,” she says, bluntly. “I have no clue how to raise a kid.”
“At least you had good role models. I barely remember my mom. And you know how my dad is.”
He’s better, I’ll admit. Coming on this vacation was a big step forward. He’s way more relaxed around Lili and Christopher than he’s ever been with me and Crew. Maybe it’s because he won’t be responsible for who they become.
For better or worse, I know Crew and I would have turned out very differently if he’d been a more indulgent father. We might have been spoiled and entitled. Definitely less hard-working.
“So basically, we’re fucked?”
I smile. “Crew and Scarlett seemed to figure it out.”
“Their children are terrors.”
“They’re both stubborn and demanding. Of course their kids are mini dictators.”
“You’re stubborn and demanding, Oliver.”
“Thank God you’re so sweet and mellow, then.” I steal a kiss.
Hannah rolls her eyes, then shoves at my chest. “Get off. You’re all sweaty.”
I roll onto my back, watching her head into the bathroom. “I was going to swim. Want to come?”
“I’m supposed to go over to Scarlett and Crew’s to borrow a dress for dinner. I got distracted, after buying the test.”
“My dad took their kids to get ice cream. So now probably isn’t the best time to go over there,” I say, rolling off the bed.
“Okay, fine. I just need to put more sunscreen on.”
But when I walk into the bathroom, she’s not applying sunscreen. She’s standing with her shirt lifted, staring at her flat stomach in the mirror’s reflection.
I step out of my khaki shorts and pull on my swim trunks, before walking up behind her. My head bends, kissing just above her collarbone before my hands land on her belly.
I rest my chin on the top of her head. “Any regrets?” I ask her. It’s our version of you okay?, since that’s all we were supposed to be. Regrets.
Even if I wasn’t staring at her face, I’d hear the smile in her answer. “Nope. You?”
“None.”
My arms tighten around her.
Hannah makes a sound of contentment deep in the back of her throat.
Her head tilts to the side, just enough for me to capture her lips with mine. It’s slow and certain. The languid kind of kiss you only share with someone when you’re certain they’re the person you’ll be kissing for the rest of your life.
It’s everything I thought I’d never have.
And…it’s real.
