The Summer I Found Home (Summers in Seaside #51)

1. Mark

My eyes pop open, and without even looking at a clock, I know it’s zero five hundred. I just feel it. Hell, it’s been ingrained into every fiber of my being for the last thirty-plus years. Should I really be surprised?

“You’re supposed to be retired,” I groan in frustration. “What was the point of buying blackout curtains if I can’t even sleep until oh seven hundred?”

Maybe I should ask my daughters how they sleep-trained their toddlers?

Is it even possible to change your sleeping habits at forty-eight?

I could get up and go to the diner for breakfast. But the regulars are more my mother’s age than mine. Hell, last time I went in, one man told me how he’d been sweet on my mother for years.

Of course, everyone loved Jane Lancaster.

I love my mom and miss her like crazy; she was so vibrant and full of life. I’m honored when people tell me as much. I’m thankful she found Seaside to call her home, but I have no business knowing about any of her romantic interludes.

Rolling over, I finally glance at the clock that illuminates the room.

Yep, I’m right.

Zero five zero six flashes on the screen.

Knowing I’ll never get back to sleep, I toss the covers aside and get up.

I hate wasting the day away, but with the sound ordinance of the city, my project can’t start until zero seven hundred.

Welp… I may as well use this time to work out.

On autopilot, my body goes through the motions of getting ready.

Before I make a conscious effort, my shoes are laced, and I’m stretched and ready to run.

I’ve got a route I love following now that I’ve returned to Seaside.

It takes me right past my daughters’ homes—though they’re rarely up at this hour unless their children decide to bless them with an early morning wakeup.

As my feet hit the pavement, and the cool misty sea fog fills my lungs, my mind drifts to the reason I’ve returned to this sleepy town. I could’ve retired literally anywhere in the world, but thanks to Mom and her love of Seaside, Oregon, my daughters have all somehow settled here.

At eighteen, I couldn’t wait to leave this place.

I had dreams of joining the Air Force and traveling the world.

I worked my ass off in high school and had most of my undergraduate degree before graduating high school, thanks to our local community college.

I couldn’t wait to attend the Air Force Academy and complete my pilot training.

Then I met Sarah.

I fell hard and fast for that woman. When we got pregnant with Lanie, a mere six weeks after meeting, I married her, thinking I could have it all: a wife, a kid, and the possibility of a phenomenal career in the Air Force.

As I moved my way up in rank, my family grew. I swear, Sarah and I got pregnant by merely looking at each other. Of course, we never knew twins ran in my family until Sloane and Raven were born.

God, that was a wild and crazy time.

I was running on caffeine and adrenaline, trying to help as much as I could, while moving up in rank. I felt horrible being deployed after the kids came along, but Sarah insisted we’d be okay.

We were, for a few more years—or looking back, maybe we weren’t.

I could tell she was tired and stressed to the max. I tried to do what I could from afar, but it’s not like I could hop on a plane and come home. The Air Force owned my ass for the next six years.

I’d never felt more helpless in my life.

Mom was a saint. She visited as much as she could when I was deployed. It was a huge relief knowing Sarah wasn’t alone with three children under the age of three.

When I returned home, Mom thought she was doing us a favor by insisting we spend some time together—that’s how Lizzy arrived nine months later. I swear, we were careful, but apparently, we were destined for baby number four in four years.

For a while after Lizzy was born, I thought things were back on track. We were making it work. While I was deployed to Afghanistan that next year, everything changed. Sarah decided she couldn’t do us any longer, and I essentially got the worst letter of my life.

God, it sounds fucking ridiculous all these years later, admitting I got a Dear John letter, but that’s what it was. I loved her enough to let her go—plain and simple. I knew I couldn’t be the husband she needed, and ultimately, she deserved better than me.

Since that day, I vowed to be the best father I could, even from afar.

When stationed around the world, I moved heaven and earth to spend time with my girls.

I insisted their lives remain as normal as possible, but I wanted them with me as much as they could be on breaks from school and during each summer.

Mom was crucial in helping me keep our parenting plan in place throughout the years.

I don’t know what I would’ve done without her.

I’ve met a few women over the years, but since time was a limited resource, and I spent every spare moment with my daughters, nothing ever worked out. My girls will always come first. It’s as simple as that.

When my wrist vibrates with an incoming text, I stop to read it.

Harper:

Have a quick in-and-out that shouldn’t take more than a day or two. You interested?

Enzo Harper is a good buddy of mine from flight school.

Since his retirement about ten years ago, he’s worked for a private security firm based in Portland.

They not only protect civilians, but they also do contract work for the government.

I’ve been on a few joint missions and know Riggs runs a tight operation.

After retiring, they were down a pilot and called in a favor. It was a quick transport flight from Portland to LA. Not only did it get me back in the air, but it gave me an opportunity to do what I’ve spent my life training for.

It was the best of both worlds: I got into the action but wasn’t committed to anything beyond that mission. Best of all, I made it home just in time for Milli’s school performance without my family being any the wiser.

Me:

What time is wheels up?

Harper’s response is immediate.

Harper:

Depends on how fast you can get here. Riggs has the plane on standby at SIA when you’re ready.

Shit, there goes my plans for the day. Guess my project will have to wait. They must need me if they’ve already got the plane ready at the airfield in Seaside.

Riggs insisted on having one housed here if they needed me. I just didn’t expect it to be so soon.

Me:

Finishing a run—wheels up in 90.

Harper:

Roger That. See you soon.

Without another thought, I flip over to the family group chat.

I swear now that I’m retired, my girls are worse than my mother ever was about my whereabouts. They don’t want or expect details, but they have asked I keep them apprised when I leave town.

Me:

Helping Riggs again. Be home in a few days. Can someone come get the food I have set out for family dinner tomorrow night if I’m not back? There’s enough to feed an entire squadron. Don’t let it go to waste.

My youngest is surprisingly the first to reply.

Lizzy:

Sure thing. We’ll host at my house either way. I’ll swing by and pick everything up while Milli’s at a friend’s house this afternoon.

Before I can respond, another text comes through.

Lizzy:

Love you. Safe Travels.

Me:

Roger that. Love you all.

Suddenly, my schedule is cleared.

Just as I return home and slow to a walk, I notice a woman in a baggy cardigan and leggings bringing out the trash to the end of the driveway next door. She’s struggling with the can as it gets stuck in a rut.

I almost offer to help, but the can crests the hole just as I approach.

“This can will be the death of me,” she grumbles and shakes her head.

Unable to help myself, I joke, “I think it’s the driveway’s fault, not the can’s. Clearly, the pothole is the culprit.”

When she looks up, her jaw drops, and her eyes blink rapidly.

“Mark Lancaster… is… that you?”

Recognition hits hard, and my heart races as if I’ve just sprinted a marathon. Electricity zips through my spine as she scrutinizes my features.

Faye Ames, my high school sweetheart, stands before me, and I feel like a fish out of water, floundering for what to say.

“Yeah… it’s me,” I whisper in disbelief. I’ve always wondered what happened to her. We were thick as thieves for the longest time, but after graduation, we parted ways, and I haven’t heard from her since. “What are you doing here?”

A perfectly sculpted brow arches as she smirks. “I should ask you the same thing. I thought you were off saving the world… at least, that’s what Mom says.”

Well, that piques my interest.

“You’ve been asking about me?”

Sighing heavily, she grins as she shakes her head. “Not you specifically, but my mom, as well as yours, filled me in on a few things over the years when I’ve visited.” She winces, then quickly adds, “I’m so sorry to hear about your mom, by the way.”

Even though it’s been a few years, “Thank you” comes out as a rote response whenever someone mentions her.

Rubbing a hand down my face, I admit, “Mom never mentioned anything about keeping up with you.”

“Probably because I asked her not to. Jane was one of my favorite people. When I stopped in to visit Mom, Jane and I always took the time to catch up.”

A lot is packed into that ramble, but one thing hits clear.

“You… Asked her not to?”

Shrugging guiltily, she sighs. “It seems stupid now, but you leaving for the Air Force hit hard… So, I left early for college… Then you got married… And it was just best to leave things alone. Eventually, too much time had passed, and I didn’t think it would matter.”

Before I can think better of it, I quickly add, “Did Mom mention during any of that time… I also got divorced?” The words fly out of my mouth.

Holy shit, I can’t believe she’s really here.

My mind reels as my past crashes into the present.

At one point, Faye was my best friend—my ride or die. We were tight from the moment we met. Then our connection turned into more, junior year. When I set my sights on the Air Force, she fully supported that decision and was a huge factor in getting me to push hard to reach my dreams.

Near the end of our senior year, we called things off. She’d had an early acceptance to NYU, and I was off to boot camp once I turned eighteen at the end of summer. We knew the odds of a relationship surviving distance were low, so we parted ways and eventually lost touch.

I’ve often wondered what happened to her, but obviously, I never reached out, so that’s on me.

Faye’s smile is as beautiful as ever when she shrugs sheepishly and pushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear that has fallen from the top knot she has her hair piled in. “Yeah… But you had your hands full with four amazing girls. I never wanted to get in the way.”

“You know about my girls?”

Rolling her eyes, her infamous smirk forms.

“Of course. They were all Jane could talk about. She was so proud of them. Besides, her house was plastered with photos. I could see for myself what an amazing family you had.”

“Just how often did you visit?”

“Not as often as I should’ve, obviously. But enough, over the years. I was in London when your mom passed, or I would have been at the service. She was a special woman.”

My head spins with so many questions, but one works its way out of my mouth before I can think better of it. “Why didn’t you ever reach out?”

She darts her eyes to the ground as her teeth bite into her lower lip for a few heartbeats before squaring her shoulders and meeting my gaze. “What can I say…? I was young and protecting my heart.”

Protecting her heart—from what?

For the first time in forever, guilt crashes in. Our falling out of touch is just as much on me. But something doesn’t settle right. “Was I that unapproachable?”

Again, on a long sigh, she shakes her head. “No. It was harder than I thought to be on my own across the country. I didn’t really want any reminders of home. But then, too much time had passed, and you’d clearly moved on, so I kept my distance.”

Her truth makes my chest feel tight and my skin itch.

Not knowing what to say, I glance at the house behind her. “Did your parents move?”

“No, they’re still in the same place.” Thumbing over her shoulder, she adds, “I’m renting this place because, as much as I love my parents, living with them permanently isn’t an option.”

She’s been living beside me this entire time, and I had no idea?

Some special operator I am—don’t even notice who my neighbors are?

How could I miss this?

“I could’ve sworn when I moved in, your place was vacant.”

On a breezy laugh, she shrugs again. “I’ve been out of town on business for the last six weeks.”

Well, that makes sense.

`My wrist buzzes, and I’m brought back to reality.

My ass needs to get to the airfield, pronto.

Running a hand through my hair, I lay my truth on the line, “Look, Faye, I’m heading out of town myself for a few days and need to leave ASAP. Please don’t take this as a brush-off. Can I get your number and call you when I return?”

Her gorgeous blue eyes bore into mine. They’re brighter in this morning light.

Just when I’m certain she’s going to brush me off, a coy smile plays at her lips, and she spews out her digits.

Then adds, “I sure hope your memory hasn’t faded in all these years.

” A triumphant smile fills her features as she winks for good measure.

“Glad to see you’re as sassy as ever,” I smirk, falling into old habits. “Be expecting a call when I return.”

Rolling her eyes in the most adorable way, she laughs, “Always so bossy.”

She turns and starts walking away, but I call after her. “Faye?”

Pausing mid-stride, she glances back.

Once her eyes meet mine, I vow, “I’m older now, and I won’t be making the same mistake twice.”

“What’s that?” she asks, curiosity filling her features.

“I’m not letting you ghost me again.”