Chapter 36
CHAPTER 36
FORD
It took longer than planned to get home. We dropped Bree and Keeley at her place, then had to turn around and head into the village proper to swing by the market. Despite Mimi’s casseroles, there were still some basics we needed. That led to a stop by Panadería de la Isla, the bakery owned by Marisol Gutierrez, and from there, the fish market.
I hoped we were actually home long enough to eat everything we’d bought. I knew Bree was planning to go back and forth on the ferry every few days, and I hoped Ed’s condition stayed stable enough to allow it. She hadn’t been wrong that it wasn’t practical for me to go with her every time. I’d used up my supply of favors between the emergency leave when Peyton had arrived, and the extra I’d managed for the few days before Sawyer had brought me my laptop.
After we’d unloaded our purchases, I dropped my keys in the bowl by the door, still trying to wrap my head around being back home. The past week felt like some bizarre dream. I kept expecting to wake up and find that Bree hadn’t really forgiven me. The past several days of waking to her in my arms had helped with that, but tonight I’d be on my own, and I didn’t like it.
But that was hours off. Right now, I needed to focus on my daughter.
I trailed her into the kitchen, unsurprised that she’d already gotten into the cottage loaf, which had been still warm when we’d left the bakery. “So how’d everything go while I was gone?”
She pointed the bread knife at the loaf, where she’d already cut a slice. “Want some?”
“Hell, yes.”
She cut us both big hunks while I got out butter. “It went fine. I like your moms. Mimi tried to teach me to make biscuits, but mine turned out like hockey pucks.”
“Yeah, that’s a skill that takes practice. I still can’t do it right.” It was something about overworking the dough. Given she spoiled me senseless with any food I wanted when I was home, I didn’t have much impetus to learn.
I accepted the slice of bread she offered. “You keeping up with your schoolwork?”
“Mostly. I got behind on some math, but Grandma Flo helped me catch up yesterday. Why does algebra have to be so boring? ”
Kicking back against the counter, I bit into the bread and considered as I chewed. “Well, most adults will feed you this whole story about how you’ll use it all the time as a grownup, but the reality is that most don’t. So my theory is that it’s really just a rite of passage. Sucky, but then it’s done.”
Peyton winced. “I hear there’s more in high school.”
Which she’d be in by the end of the year. Holy shit. Not remotely prepared to think about that, I decided we needed a subject change. “Sad but true. How’s the pirate project coming? You said you’d been working on it while we were away.”
Her eyes lit up. “I found some really cool stuff in the museum archives about Black Sam Bellamy. Did you know he was actually friends with Benjamin Hornigold? And there’s this whole theory about—” She caught herself, biting her lip. “I should probably save that for my paper.”
I smiled, remembering my own fascination with pirate stories as a kid. It was hard not to be a little obsessed growing up by one of the biggest shipwreck graveyards in the country. “Is any of that actually relevant to your paper?”
“I mean… it might be.”
“Research whatever you want. Just don’t get so caught up in it that you miss the actual point of the assignment.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Dad.”
The easy sarcasm didn’t remotely diminish from the fact that she’d just called me Dad for the first time. The sound of it was a punch to the sternum.
When I lapsed into silence, Peyton’s gaze flicked up to mine, uncertain. I knew she wouldn’t want me to make a big deal about it, so I bit off more bread to cover. “You need any help with anything?”
“Nah, I’m good. But…” She fidgeted with the sleeve of her hoodie. “Is Mr. Ed really gonna be okay?”
I didn’t want to make any false promises, but I didn’t want to scare her either. “The doctors think so. It’ll take time, but they’re optimistic.”
She nodded, relief clear on her face. “Good. Because I still need to show him what I found in those old maps. Whichever artist made mine clearly looked at the archives.”
“Artist?”
“Yeah. Peter said that a bunch of local artists were commissioned to make them, so that each one is a bit different and everybody feels like they’re getting a more specialized piece of history.”
“That’s cool.” Definitely more interesting than the mass-produced ones they’d had when we were kids.
We both continued to eat our bread in companionable silence.
“Hey, Peyton?”
“Yeah?”
“I wanted to apologize.”
She tensed up, a line forming between her brows. “For what?”
“Just for being gone so long. I know you had Mimi and Mama Flo, but I should have been here.”
“You were exactly where you were supposed to be. Bree needed you.” The declarative statement brooked no argument.
“Yeah, she did,” I conceded. “But I just didn’t want you to think you weren’t a priority for me.”
“I got it.” She paused, turning to cut another slice of bread. “So, are you and Bree dating now?”
I almost choked on the last bite of my own bread. I had no idea how to answer that. Dating was definitely not what we’d been doing on our downtime from the hospital.
While I was still fumbling to find an answer, my kid continued, “You’re a total idiot if you’re not, because Bree is awesome.”
More with the declarative statements. Damn, did she know how much she sounded like my Mom? Amused and moved, I reached out to ruffle her hair. “Can’t say I disagree.”
She rolled her eyes again and smoothed her hair. “So are you?”
I thought about the promise I’d made Bree in the car, that we had time to figure this out. “We’ve been a little busy with Ed’s situation. But things are better.” That seemed a safe enough response.
Peyton nodded. “Good. That’s a good start.”
I needed to redirect her before she continued down this path. “You done with your homework for the weekend?”
“I’ve got some vocabulary in Spanish, but that’s it.”
“Wanna have a Pirates of the Caribbean marathon?”
As I’d hoped, her eyes brightened. “Hel—er heck, yeah.”
“Look, I’m not gonna ride you about swearing. The deal is that you’re smart enough to know when and where it’s appropriate. School and in front of Mama Flo and Mimi are not it. In public, not it. But at home? I figure you should have the freedom to express yourself. Also, because I’ve been in the Navy for a really long time, and it’s gonna take me a while to retrain myself. Fair?”
She nodded. “Deal. Want popcorn?”
“We just had bread.”
“And?”
So teenage girls were also bottomless pits. Good to know.
“Fair point.”
We settled in and spent the rest of the afternoon binging the movies and talking pirates. But I kept glancing out the window, watching for Bree’s return. We were already into At World’s End by the time I finally saw her light switch on. A couple of minutes later, Keeley bolted into the backyard to do her business.
Peyton was enthralled with the movie—she’d never seen past the first one before—so I murmured, “Be right back,” and slipped out the back door.
Bree stood in the dark, arms wrapped around her middle.
“Hey. Any news?”
Her face relaxed at the sight of me. “No. Everything’s fine. My team is incredible. I didn’t have to come back at all. But I’m glad I did. I needed to check in for me, you know?”
“Yeah. Nothing new about Ed?”
She shook her head, but I could still tell something was bothering her.
I stepped into her, rubbing my hands down her arms. “What’s bugging you?”
“Nothing. I just…” She glanced back toward her cottage. “I just feel a little weird being in the house alone. Which is stupid. I’ve lived alone for a long time. There’s no reason to think I won’t be fine.”
“Except that there’s a village-wide curfew, you just closed the Brewhouse early because of it, and there are multiple problematic people apparently roaming the island.”
She winced. “Well, I mean, there’s that.”
“Why don’t you come stay with us at our place?”
“But Peyton.”
I tugged her in, linking my hands at the small of her back, savoring the warmth of her against me. “I’ll have you know my daughter told me I was an idiot if I didn’t date you. She was very emphatic about it.”
Bree’s lips twitched, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. “An idiot, huh?”
“In those precise words, yeah.” I tipped my head down toward hers, wondering if I could steal a kiss, breathing in the scent of hops and honey that always seemed to cling to her skin.
Her fingers curled into the fabric of my shirt. “Smart kid.”
“Totally smart kid.” I couldn’t stop the doofy grin. “She called me ‘Dad.’”
The lips that had hovered half an inch from mine pulled back, her eyes widening with delight. “Really? First time?”
“Yeah. It was in a totally sarcastic teenage eye rolling kind of way. You know, the whole ‘whatever, Dad’ thing. I feel like I leveled up as a parent.”
Bree smiled at me, with so much more softness than I was used to seeing, her whole face glowing with warmth, and patted my chest. “Good on you, Papa.”
I covered her hand with mine, squeezing gently. “So will you come stay?”
Uncertainty flickered over her face, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip in a way that meant she was trying to talk herself into—or out of—something.
“Peyton and I can come over to your place, if you’d rather.” I offered the alternative quickly, not wanting her to feel cornered. “Whatever makes you most comfortable.”
“That feels even weirder.” She shook her head, a strand of blonde hair falling across her cheek. “Having you both in my space…”
“I want you to feel safe, Bree. Peyton won’t be weirded out by the idea of that. It just shows sensible caution on your part.” I kept my voice steady, reasonable, trying to channel some of my mother’s lawyer-like persuasion skills.
I could see her wrestling with the notion, her eyes darting between me and the dark windows of her cottage, so I waited, knowing pressure wouldn’t get me anywhere. The last thing I wanted was to push her into something that made her uncomfortable.
With one last glance back at the cottage, her shoulders slumped in resignation. “Let me pack an overnight bag.”