CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“They’re asking how you are,” said Matthew, hugging his wife as he entered the old cottage. The children weren’t even aware of it, but they’d removed themselves completely from the property, using one of the old bayou cottages as an escape.

“What did you tell them?” she asked.

“I told them you were resting and that we’d speak to them later,” he said, holding her. She nodded, inhaling his scent as she always did. Somehow, it gave her peace, gave her energy. The scent of Matthew was something she couldn’t live without.

“What will we tell them?” she asked, feeling uncertain of herself.

“The truth. It’s time. We can’t keep going and not tell them the truth.”

“I need more time to collect my energy, Matthew,” she said, looking up at him. He smiled, chuckling at her.

“Irene Robicheaux, I’ve known you nearly my entire life. You have never needed more time to collect your energy. You have more energy than a hundred women. But I will give you all the time you need. This is big. Bigger than anything we’ve ever divulged to them. Bigger than the ghosts. Bigger than the pond. Bigger than everything.”

“How do you think they’ll react?” she asked, filled with uncertainty.

“They’re our children. All of them. I don’t think this will change that. They’ll be shocked, maybe a little angry that we didn’t tell them sooner. We’ve always said they would know everything in its own time. We get to decide when it’s time.

“For now, I’m going to make us some dinner, and we’re going to relax and watch an old movie together. Something romantic, like us.”

“I love you, Matthew. I don’t tell you that nearly enough, but I could not be on this earth without you.” He smiled at her.

“Ditto, my love. Ditto.”