Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
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The benefit of having devoted my every waking minute to the Brewhouse all these years was that I’d pulled together and trained a phenomenal staff. So on the rare occasions I needed to step away, I generally could without much fuss. After the past twenty-four hours, having met Peyton, broken my silence with Ford, and gotten dragged into their little family drama with the search for her this afternoon, I absolutely couldn’t deal with the public tonight. There’d been no downtime. No opportunity to process any of this. I was far too raw to be put on the spot, and I inevitably would be if I were there.
The Brewhouse was at the center of village life for the locals. Whether it was anyone’s business or not—and I was of the firm opinion that it wasn’t—I’d get asked what I knew about Ford’s surprise daughter. The two of them deserved the privacy to figure out their new relationship without being at the center of a public soap opera. Until I was capable of calmly saying so, without telling anyone to fuck off, I didn’t need to be behind the bar.
I also didn’t want to face questions about my own relationship with Ford. What had happened between us was one of the best-kept secrets on Hatterwick. I’d never admitted it to anyone. Neither had Ford. So far as anyone knew, we’d had a falling out over subjects unknown and were no longer friends. People were aware I didn’t speak to him, despite the fact that I’d maintained cordial relationships with the rest of the Wayward Sons and even Ford’s moms. If there’d been speculation—and I was certain there had been—no one had been fool enough to share it with me directly. That was fine by me.
But now Ford was back on-island, and I really needed to process the implications of that.
I opened my freezer door and grabbed a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. I didn’t often eat or drink my emotions. Having a mom who’d died as a junkie because of her own addictions meant I kept myself on an extremely short leash for indulgences. But this felt like a reasonable recourse in this situation. Hell, after the day I’d had, I probably deserved a whole damn freezer’s worth.
From her spot at the end of the counter, Keeley huffed and stomped a paw as I pried off the top and dug straight in with a spoon. My loyal companion had opinions about everything, including, apparently, my choice of comfort food.
“Don’t you judge me. I haven’t spoken to the man in ten years. Now he’s back, and I have no idea how he’s going to work all this shit out, but I know he’s not going to abandon that kid with his moms while he goes back out on deployment. Which means he’s going to be actually back . Which means I have to see him. If that’s not an excuse to have ice cream for dinner, I don’t know what is.” I shoveled another heaping spoonful into my mouth, letting the cold sweetness numb my churning thoughts. “And don’t give me that look. You get treats when you’re stressed, too.”
My pup just stared at me with Uh-huh eyes, her golden head tilted in that way that made me feel like she could see straight through my bullshit.
“It’s fine. Now that I’ve handed off Peyton, I can go back to not talking to him again.” The words tasted like a lie, even around the mouthful of ice cream.
Keeley looked deeply unimpressed by my logic. She angled her head and gave me a side eye that would make any teenager proud.
“I can,” I insisted, though my heart squeezed tight at the idea of it. It had taken so much out of me to stay away from him all these years. The only reason I’d managed to pull it off was because he’d been gone for most of it. He’d only made it home a handful of days a year, which made avoiding him as easy as checking the calendar for Navy holidays and listening to the town grapevine for when he hit the island. But now? Now he’d be here. Every. Single. Day.
My dog lay down and crossed her front paws with a sigh and an eye roll, as if to say, “Humans.” Her whole body language screamed judgment, and I didn’t appreciate it one bit.
I scowled. “Nobody asked you.” I shoved another big bite of ice cream in my mouth, letting the chocolate chunks crunch between my teeth.
God, it had been so good and so awful to see him up close and personal. I hadn’t let myself look when I’d seen him on-island before, but there’d been no avoiding the reality of him in my front entryway. He was… massive. He’d always been tall, but over the past ten years in the Navy, he’d bulked out in a big way. Yet it hadn’t been his size that had struck me like a fist in the sternum. It was how he’d looked so lost and overwhelmed just before meeting his daughter. That vulnerability had gotten to me in a way nothing else could have. And then he’d come to me when Peyton had disappeared on him. I knew that had more to do with the fact that I knew who she was and that we had sufficient in common that I was the most likely to think like her. But a part of me had felt really good that he’d known he could count on me in a crisis. Even now.
And that was very dangerous thinking.
Restless and nervy, I ate more ice cream, shoveling in another spoonful of chocolate chip cookie dough, as if the sugar rush might drown out the unwelcome thoughts taking over my brain.
Keeley bounced to her feet moments before my back door opened and Pop strode in. He took one look at the ice cream in my hand and harrumphed. “Good thing I brought dinner.” He set a takeout bag on the kitchen table and bent to scratch a wagging Keeley, who’d immediately abandoned me in favor of her second-favorite human. “Can’t have you living on dessert alone.”
“What are you doing here? I thought you were playing poker with the Gray Beards tonight.” I tried not to sound defensive, but Pop had an uncanny way of showing up when I was most unsettled.
“Thought you might want to talk.” He gave me that knowing look that always made me feel about eight years old again.
“What on earth gave you that delusion?” I jabbed my spoon back into the carton, avoiding his eyes.
He just arched one bushy eyebrow with the same unimpressed look I’d gotten from my dog. “You really gonna tell me there’s nothing to talk about when you were seen with Ford earlier today? After not giving him the time of day for ten years?” His tone held that mix of concern and judgment that only a parent—and let’s be honest, grandfather or not, he was the only one I’d ever really had—could master.
“Nothing I want to talk about.” I stabbed my spoon deeper into the melting ice cream.
He ignored my annoyance and crossed to pull plates out of the cabinet, the clink of ceramic against ceramic filling the silence between us. “I’m not trying to dig into your business.” The gentleness in his voice made it worse somehow.
“Really? What do you call it?” I couldn’t keep the edge from my voice, knowing I was being unfair but unable to stop myself.
“I’m just asking what changed.” He waited me out like he always did.
“His daughter showed up at the Brewhouse.” The words tasted bitter on my tongue, stirring up memories I’d rather leave buried.
The plates rattled as he set them on the counter. My grandfather had been around. He’d seen and heard a lot in his lifetime. Everything from bar brawls to hurricane evacuations to tourist shenanigans. It took a hell of a lot to surprise him, but at my words, those grizzled caterpillar eyebrows hit his hairline.
“Daughter?” The word came out as more of a croak, and I couldn’t blame him. This was exactly the kind of bombshell that made small-town tongues wag.
With a weary sigh, I snatched the plates and moved to the table, needing something to do with my hands. As we spooned out kung pow chicken and beef with broccoli, letting the fragrant steam curl between us, I gave him the overview of what had happened. Better he hear the real version from me instead of the island grapevine. That would be circulating soon enough. Probably already was.
“No wonder you latched onto the girl. She’s like an older version of you.”
I bit into an egg roll and jerked one shoulder in a shrug, the crispy wrapper crunching between my teeth. “I feel for the kid.” The words came out more defensive than I’d intended.
“So you protected her until Ford could get back. And you called him yourself rather than pawn it off on someone else.”
I bristled, dropping the rest of my egg roll onto the plate. “Peyton deserved that. She deserved to know someone gave a damn about doing right by her.”
“Not saying you were wrong. It was the kind thing to do.”
That edged too close to acknowledging my own history, and my shoulders hunched up toward my ears. “I can pay it forward. That’s all it was.”
Pop reached out to lay one gnarled hand over mine, his skin weathered from decades of working on the water. “Baby girl, you never owed me a damned thing.”
I owed him everything. But that was an old argument I didn’t want to rehash right now. Not when the wounds of the past felt so raw and exposed.
“What’s she like?”
“She’s at that age where she’s both really mature and so very young. She’s tall, like Ford, so she can get away with people thinking she’s older than she is. When I think of all the things that could have happened to her on her way here from Oregon? Christ, it still makes me want to put my head between my knees.” I shuddered, thinking of all the true crime podcasts I’d listened to over the years.
“Sounds like she’s resourceful.”
“Yeah. And scared. She ran away and made it all the way from the West Coast to here in search of a man she didn’t even know, rather than stay put. That takes a lot of guts and desperation.”
Pop sobered, his weathered face creasing with concern. “You think she was in a bad situation with the foster care?”
“I talked to her about it a little. She didn’t show any of the expected signs of abuse, but you and I both know that can be hidden. Whatever she came from, she’ll be safe here. Ford and his moms will see to it.”
“Reckon that means he’s moving home. If not immediately, then as soon as he can manage.”
He was fishing, and I knew it. Pop had always been good at that—dropping little hints and waiting to see what kind of reaction he’d get. Usually, I gave him more to work with, but not about this. Not about Ford.
“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything. I did my duty by the kid, and now I can get on with my life.” The words were too sharp, but I couldn’t soften them now.
“Maybe it’s finally time for you two to talk about whatever happened.”
“Hell has not frozen over, so no, it’s not. Drop it, Pop.” I stabbed at a hunk of broccoli with more force than necessary.
He lifted his hands in surrender. “Okay.” But I could tell from the way his mouth twisted that he wasn’t done with the subject forever.
I poked at the last bite of beef on my plate, not meeting his eyes. The words stuck in my throat for a moment before I could get them out. “Do you still have the photo albums from when we were younger?”
“Of course.” His voice gentled, the way it always did when he sensed how close to the surface my emotions were running.
“Could you bring them by? I promised Peyton I’d ask about them.”
Pop gave me a long, silent look before finally nodding. “Yeah, I can do that.”