Chapter 4
Four
Light sparked on the water, the sun making its morning appearance draped in purples and blues. Miles glided on the surface, the lean muscles of his arms causing hardly a ripple. It was so cold all he could focus on was his next move, a meditative rhythm of left, kick, right, kick.
He turned his head to sputter out a chilled breath before grabbing onto the ladder at the dock. Miles stood, steam rising from his skin, as he towel-dried in the morning air.
It felt good to be back to his daily swims. His buddy let him use the dock, and it was much easier getting out here in the morning now that Bella was back in school. All summer, they’d stayed up binge-watching TV shows into the late morning hours together. He had hardly made it out a dozen times.
He, of course, mourned the fact that they had to cut back on their tradition, but he had to put on a brave face for her. She struggled enough with getting up in the morning for high school – she didn’t need to know he was one more “Please?” away from giving in to another episode of Parks and Rec.
The rest of fall was a celebration—the changing leaves, the crisp air, the return of some calm to the islands as the tourists made their way back home.
He cast one more glance at the foliage before disappearing into the boat house, getting dressed, and jogging to his car.
The skin on his arms was still numb; normally, he’d do push-ups to warm himself back up, but he had things to do, like make Bella’s new favorite breakfast – two egg whites, chopped green pepper and mushrooms, and a slice of whole grain toast with butter and strawberry jelly.
He needed to pick up a jar of jelly from his friends’ farm. They kept a stand of goods by the road, and payment was on the honor system. He took a short detour, got the jelly, and made it home in time to make breakfast for them both.
Bella made her way downstairs ten minutes before she had to catch the bus.
“Happy Monday,” he said, sliding her omelet onto a plate.
She took a seat at the kitchen table, peering up at him. “Happy Monday.”
“Are you feeling okay?” he asked, taking a seat next to her. “I can make you something else if you’re not feeling an omelet.”
“No, this is good. Thanks, Dad.”
He wasn’t going to push. She always came to talk to him eventually – or at least, she used to.
At fourteen, it seemed she was pushing him further and further away, to the edges of her life. He knew teenagers needed to reject their parents to find their own identities (or so the books said), but why his daughter? Couldn’t they be the exception?
She’d been his world from the moment she came into the world. She was his best friend – not his confidant, he knew that was too much pressure for a kid – but she was his everything. And he’d always been hers, too.
Maybe that was over now. Was it the gradual beginning of the rest of their lives, where she was too mature and cool to confide in her old dad? Or was it, mercifully, just a phase?
His chest tightened at the thought, and he forced down the rest of his coffee with a gulp.
She made it to the bus on time, and after cleaning up, Miles got in his truck and drove to the fire station.
He’d been a full-time firefighter just over six years. Bella used to think it was the coolest thing in the world. “My daddy saves people,” she’d tell her friends, or people in the grocery line, or attendants on the ferry. Never a shy child, she loved to say what was on her mind.
What did she think now? His bubbly little girl had turned into a quiet, brooding teenager. Half the time, he couldn’t tell if she was sullen or thoughtful. Maybe she was both.
Inside the fire station, the mood seemed off from the moment he walked in. Everyone was looking at him with half smiles on their faces.
“What’s up? Is there something on my shirt?” Miles asked.
They scrambled, leaving his buddy Sam to face him.
Sam shook his head. “Nope, nothing on your shirt. I was wondering if you found any matches recently.”
Miles tilted his head. “What matches?”
“You know,” shrugged Sam. “To start a fire.”
He frowned. “Are you talking arson?”
Clarissa, one of the part-timers, popped her head into the room. “Not to start a fire, Sam. Just a match.”
Miles sat in his chair and leaned back. “Are you all on something?”
Clarissa laughed. “So…you haven’t seen it yet.”
“Seen what?” asked Miles.
She put her hands up. “I’m not going to tell him,” she yelled, disappearing into the kitchen.
Sam let out a heavy sigh. “I guess it falls on me.”
Miles wasn’t going to play Sam’s game, whatever it was. He turned without a word and logged onto his computer.
Sam appeared at his side, crouching low, phone in his hand. “We all heard you’re looking for a match,” he said.
Miles sighed. “Sam – ” He glanced over, doing a double take at Sam’s phone. It was a picture from the fundraiser he’d been bamboozled into doing months ago.
A firefighter calendar. What a terrible idea it had been. Miles had felt like a show dog, propped up with an axe, told to hang off a ladder. It was awful.
He’d only agreed to do it because they badly needed to raise money to repair a fire engine that had been out of commission for months. Sam had argued Miles was the only one who could contribute. “No one’s going to pay to see my beer gut,” Sam had argued.
It was in conjunction with a few other firehouses, and the pictures were never supposed to make it back to San Juan Island. They’d promised the calendars would stay on the mainland. It had been months; he thought he was safe.
“Is this a joke, Sam?” Miles asked.
Sam chuckled, first quietly, then the laughter overpowered him. He coughed, clapping Miles on the back as he doubled over.
When he recovered he said, “I swear to you, it isn’t. This was on the morning ferry yesterday.”
Miles stood from his chair. “Clarissa,” he bellowed.
She didn’t come out of the kitchen this time. “It wasn’t me!”
He went back to Sam’s phone and looked more closely. There was text under his picture.
“Help my dad make a match,” Miles murmured. He sighed. “Bella.”
“I gotta admit,” Sam said, “she’s topped any prank I could ever pull on you.”
There was an email listed—Bella’s.
He turned back to his computer and typed out a message. “The jig is up. Expect a talk. - Dad.”
That afternoon, he decided to pick her up from school. When she spotted him sitting in the truck, her face broke into a grin and she ran over.
“You finally figured it out,” she said.
“What do you mean, finally? How long have these things been up?”
She shrugged.
He turned to look at her. He’d expected her to be remorseful. Apologetic. Not whatever this was. “Bella, have you lost your mind? Do I need to explain how disrespectful this is, putting my picture up for strangers, and how dangerous it could be?”
“It’s not dangerous at all,” she said with an eye roll. “You kept asking me what I wanted for my birthday this year, and this is it.”
He felt eyes on him. Bella’s three best friends peered from the schoolyard, giggling when he looked.
He sighed and pulled out of his parking spot. “I’m not having this discussion. We’re getting everything taken down. Where did you even get the money for this? This had to be expensive.”
“It wasn’t. I won it.”
“You won it?”
“I thought you’d be proud! I’m taking a marketing and communications class, and I had the most impressive ad campaign, so I got offered a two-week deal to advertise whatever I wanted.”
A smile began on her lips, then she laughed, holding her stomach, laughing and laughing.
Miles clenched his jaw. “Bella.”
She wiped away tears. “It was supposed to be ads for the school play, but I swapped the images out at the last minute. I can’t believe it worked.”
“This isn’t – what you did – it’s not funny,” he said finally.
“Oh, it’s not meant to be funny.”
He knew he was guilty of not disciplining her enough. For the most part, he hadn’t needed to. She was a great kid, and they had excellent communication and understanding.
She was his favorite person in the world, but maybe it was a mistake to not be more stern. At least on occasion.
Now might be such an occasion. “Until you understand how serious this is and how wrong it is, you’re grounded.”
“Grounded? What does that even mean?”
“It means that you’re in trouble. You can’t go out with your friends —”
“What! For how long?” she shrieked. “That’s not fair!”
“What’s unfair is you putting up pictures of me like cattle for sale!”
“Well, how else are you going to find a wife if you don’t get out there?”
This again. Last year, she’d decided he needed to start dating again. Then it escalated to him needing to get married.
He’d thought she just wanted to plan a wedding and wear a pretty dress, so he had taken her out to a fundraising event and thought that’d be the end of it.
“I’m not looking for a wife,” he said. “I don’t know what got this into your head, but this isn’t how things are done. And you can’t force me into anything – this is my life, Bella.”
“It’s my life too. I’ve never had a mom, and maybe I want one!”
“You have a mom,” he said, much louder than intended.
She was quiet, arms crossed over her chest. “Not a living one.”
His jaw clenched. Ever since becoming a teenager, she’d found a way to make words sting like never before.
“I’ve always given you everything you needed,” he said, regaining control of his volume.
“Except for a mom,” she snapped.
A weight sunk in his chest. “What’s wrong with it being you and me?”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “You’re not even listening to me. You never listen.”
That was so far from the truth he couldn’t think of a response. He pulled up to the house and as soon as he had stopped the car, Bella got out and ran, slamming the front door behind her.
Miles shook his head, muttering a request to his late wife. “Give me the patience to survive this, Madeline.”