7. Daphne
Chapter Seven
DAPHNE
My cell phone vibrated on the dresser in my room at the resort. It was only six a.m. here, but that meant it was ten a.m. back in Atlanta. I didn’t expect many calls, so I assumed it was someone from home.
Despite the location, there was good reception here because they had a cell tower on a ridge nearby. Lifting my phone from the dresser, I glanced at the screen and saw my mother’s name flash.
The phone vibrated in my hand two more times before I swiped my thumb across the screen and brought the phone to my ear. “Hey, Mom.”
“Daphne! How are you, dear?”
My mother sounded friendly and had injected an extra dose of cheer into her tone. I knew better than to let my guard down. Tension coiled in my gut.
“I’m fine, Mom. How are you?”
“Well, I’ve been wondering when you were going to give up and come home. Alaska is not exactly your style.”
I gritted my teeth and curled my free arm around my waist as I strode to look out the windows. I didn’t really know what my style was.
“I’m enjoying it here.” My voice came out smoothly despite the tightness in my chest and the icy ball of dread in my stomach. “How are you?” I repeated.
“Not well. Not well at all. We need you here. Your father needs your help to smooth things over with some of our partnerships.”
“Mom, when I come home, I’m not re-opening the restaurant. And I’m definitely not working in the business anymore.”
“Daphne,” my mother began, her tone going exactly where I predicted it would go—sharp and judgmental. “I know you’re devastated about Brandon’s death.”
My breath seized in my lungs. My heart felt as if hundreds of tiny cracks were spreading, and it might shatter into pieces. I stayed silent, and after another moment, my breath came back. My mother’s voice picked back up over the rushing sound in my ears.
“I know what Pete did feels inexcusable, but nothing is unforgivable. We all make compromises every day of our lives. Chin up and come back home.”
“No,” I said flatly, my voice coming out stronger than I expected. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I absolutely refuse to help smooth over the situation. Pete cheated on me with someone I thought was my friend at an absolutely horrible time. This isn’t just about forgiveness. I’m working on forgiveness, but forgiveness doesn’t mean I have to be friends with anyone again. It certainly doesn’t mean I need to make nice and work with people I will never trust in my life. Forgiveness is just about finding peace for myself.”
“Daphne, your father needs you. Pete is indispensable in this business, but so are you. He needs you both, and he needs it to work.”
God, my mother was freaking amazing. She just couldn’t let herself consider how I might be doing. She wanted me to be the one to gloss this over.
“Mom, it’s not happening. Go ahead and cut me off. I don’t need anything from you. I know it infuriates you, but Gram left me everything.” I was the only grandchild on my father’s side. My grandmother was one of the few people I’d been able to turn to after my life blew up. I’d lost her too, but she’d made sure I could do whatever I wanted by leaving me everything she had. “I’ll be fine on my own. The fact that you keep asking me to do this only drives me further away from you and Dad. Now, I’m getting off the phone. Goodbye.”
I didn’t hear what my mother said next because I just hung up the phone. My hand was shaking so hard as I lowered the phone. I was relieved the bed was right beside me because I lost my grip, and my phone fell on the mattress.
I found out the month before my little boy died that my ex, Pete, had been having an affair with a close friend for over a year. My close friend who worked with me. My ex was my father’s second in command at his high-end investment and property management business in Atlanta. Pete and I were the golden couple or something like that. Our families had shared business interests, and it was supposed to be wonderful that we fell in love and got married. Wonderful, my ass. It turned out to be built on sand.
I’d once been in the thick of it all. I’d been raised to be polite and just do what my family needed. I’d never questioned whether I’d work for my father. My parents weren’t warm and fuzzy, but I’d mistakenly believed they would put my interests first when everything blew up. Ha.
Not at all. Everyone had told me to make nice with Pete, who’d been fucking my friend while our son was dying.
I’d been the primary point of contact for publicity within my family’s business. It had been my job to make things look good and put the best spin on any situation. I couldn’t do that anymore, not when it meant selling out myself.
I took several deep breaths as I paced back and forth in front of the windows. I needed to discharge the toxic energy stirred up by my mother’s call. I didn’t know where I was going after this trip, but I had come to one clear-eyed conclusion since I’d arrived in Alaska.
I wasn’t returning to Atlanta to live. There was nothing to hold me there. There were too many strings trying to tie me to things I needed to break away from. My little boy’s absence was a gaping hole in my life, and a wound in my heart I didn’t think would ever stop bleeding. The only thing I missed from Atlanta was my restaurant.
My parents had referred to it as my “vanity” project. I loved to cook and bake. Without borrowing a single penny from my parents, I’d taken out a loan on my own and opened it. I’d cut back my hours at the family business to make it work. Against the doubts of my parents, my small bakery and café had taken off. I was sensible enough to know a bit of that was luck. Because a bit of every success involved the whimsy of timing and luck.
When Brandon was diagnosed with a rare form of brain cancer, I’d done the research and knew his chances of survival were incredibly poor. At the height of its success, I’d closed my restaurant to spend more time with my son. I didn’t want to miss a minute of the time I could have with him. Those months felt like stolen time. I’d tried to grab the vagaries of fate and yank time to a stop.
I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt a hot tear roll down my cheek, cooling as it moved over my skin. I dragged my sleeve across my cheeks and pondered letting myself cry for hours.
I looked out the windows, across the field of fading pink flowers that I now knew to be fireweed. My eyes lifted over the tops of the spruce trees to the sparkling water of the ocean bay in the distance. I came here for a change of pace, but more than that, I’d come to Alaska to try to figure out what I wanted. I’d needed the span of the continent between my family and me.
Maybe I didn’t have the answer I sought yet, but I knew I didn’t want to sit in this room and cry. I grabbed my fleece jacket and hurried out into the hallway. After I had breakfast, I figured I would take advantage of Cat’s request to go with me to Diamond Creek. She’d talk my ear off, and that was exactly what I needed.