Chapter 28
It’s beenone hell of a week in Sea Breeze.
The drama is off-the-charts, even by our angsty, conflict-prone standards.
Weaver starts Monday off with a bang by attempting to sell Tripp Seafood to some corporate raider from New York, only for the deal to quickly go south once the dirty secrets behind their success come to light. At least, I’m guessing that’s what happened.
Weaver and I still aren’t talking, but it’s the most logical explanation for a quickly-executed reallocation of assets that effectively ends the Tripps’ fifty-year reign of terror overnight.
The Tripps who wanted to stay in the lobster business were able to buy their boats and go fully indie, but at least half the family chose to take the money and run.
Some of them, literally.
Mark disappeared overnight, along with several of his cousins. They’re allegedly going south to start a brewery in Massachusetts, but he didn’t share his plans with me. Mark clearly doesn’t care for me much anymore. Even when he showed up at Elaina’s Monday morning to give me the information on the crew he’d hired to work my boat until the end of December, he was curt and distant.
But then, I knew who was really responsible for hiring the workers and arranging to pay them from an account he’d set up in town.
It was Weaver, taking care of me even though we’re not even friends anymore.
When we pass each other in town, he doesn’t look at me, and I do my best not to look at him. But I fail. A lot.
He’s just so damned beautiful, and so…mine.
I tell myself he’ll stop feeling like mine with time, and that losing what we had will be easier once he leaves town, but I suspect I’m lying to myself. This will never be easy, but hopefully someday it will become bearable.
As it stands now, I’m barely surviving.
I sleep all the time, only emerging from my bed to visit Gramps and clean the house for his homecoming on Friday.
An in-home care nurse shows up at the door Thursday night to help with that, along with a hospital bed we set up on the ground floor by the fire for Gramps. I don’t even bother asking who sent her or who is paying her salary for the next month. I already know, and I’m grateful.
I’m also angry.
This has to end. How am I supposed to start getting over him when he won’t stop trying to take care of me?
In all the bustle of collecting Gramps from the hospital and getting him settled, Friday passes a bit more swiftly than the days before. We share a healthy meal of grilled chicken and roasted sweet potatoes with Mia, the nurse, and Gramps spends the entire meal flirting like his heart didn’t almost explode less than a week ago.
But Mia, an older woman with sparkling green eyes and a laugh that makes our drafty house feel warmer, doesn’t seem put off by it. If anything, she seems as taken with Gramps as he is with her, and I head back to my apartment suspecting I’m soon going to feel like a third wheel around here.
I wonder if that was part of Weaver’s plan, too. Did he select Mia with an eye to helping set me free? And if so, is that sweet or…controlling as fuck?
I can’t decide.
And I can’t muster up the energy to do anything about it.
I stay in bed until nearly noon on Saturday, only emerging when Gramps texts me to come over and watch Deadliest Catch. I do, but talking shit about other fishermen isn’t as much fun as usual, and no matter how hard I try to act normal, Gramps notices.
“So, who is it?” he asks, pausing between episodes.
I shake myself from my fog and ask, “What?”
He narrows his eyes at me from his hospital bed, where he’s propped up and covered with a thick, cozy blanket from our winter stash. It’s getting colder with every passing day now, suddenly starting to feel like winter after the mild autumn. “Who is it? The idiot who broke your heart?”
I blink and shake my head. “What? No one. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re love moping.”
“I am not.”
“I know a love mope when I see it. Come on, out with it. Who do I need to kick overboard?” I answer him with a roll of my eyes and he adds, “Was it Mark Tripp? And he left without saying goodbye? Is that it?”
I choke on my next breath and sputter, “What? No!”
“Well, you were sneaking around with him for a while.” He shrugs. “I thought it might have become something more.”
“You knew?” I ask, my stomach tight.
“I knew,” he says with a sniff. “But I liked that you were trying to hide it from me. It felt respectful.”
“I do respect you, Gramps,” I say. “It’s just that there aren’t many single people my age in town. And a lot of them are Tripps.”
“I know. And I don’t blame you. I blame myself. I may have gone overboard a little myself with the Tripp stuff.” Before I can pick my jaw up off the ground, he adds swiftly, “I still don’t like them, not even close. But they’re our neighbors. And now that they’re playing by the rules like the rest of us…”
“Wow.” I sit back in my armchair. “This is…a big deal.”
“It is.”
“The end of an era.”
“It is. So, date a Tripp if you want. As long as you pick a good one. Luke isn’t bad. He’s a hard worker, and I heard he just bought his dad’s boat and plans to stay in town, not cut and run like the rest of his cousins. He’s a good kid, the kind who sticks.”
The kind who sticks…
The implication is clear. Luke is the kind who sticks so therefore, he’d be a good match for me, someone who also sticks. But I don’t know if that’s who I am anymore. Gramps and my family will always be so important to me, but when I think about going back to my old life, I want to crawl in bed and stay there—forever.
But I can’t tell him about Weaver. Tripps may be okay to date now, but not Weaver. He’s still forbidden. There’s no doubt in my mind about that. And it doesn’t matter anyway. Weaver and I are over. There’s no sense in hurting Gramps by confessing to a sin I’m never going to commit again.
Still, I can’t let a chance to be honest with Gramps pass me by. We don’t talk like this often. If I let this moment go, I might not get another opening for a long time.
“I’m not going to date Luke, Gramps,” I say, my pulse picking up as I weigh the chances that he’s going to freak out. They’re decent, I decide, but not high enough to make me worry about damaging his heart. “I was actually thinking about going back to school.”
His bushy brows lift, but he doesn’t look unpleasantly surprised. In fact, he looks…proud. “Aw, that’s great, Gert. I always hoped you’d finish your degree. You starting the online stuff again in the spring?”
“Um, no, I was…” I pick at the loose yarn on the afghan covering my legs. “I was actually thinking of applying to another school. Maybe in Boston or New York, and going for my bachelor’s instead of an associate’s degree. I’d be able to teach if I have a bachelor’s, and I still have some money saved up after I paid for Dad’s rehab. It’s not enough to pay for everything, but I could apply for scholarships and get a part-time job. I think I could make it work.”
I finally look up, surprised to see tears in Gramp’s eyes. “Or I can stay,” I hurry to add, willing to do whatever it takes to banish the pain from his face. I’ve only seen Gramps cry a couple times in my life and both were when someone had died. He doesn’t get upset easily, and I can’t bear to be the thing upsetting him. “I’ll stay, Gramps. Forget I said anything. I’m just crazy right now. It’s been a rough week.”
It has been a rough week, even after deciding that Weaver was telling the truth about not sleeping with my mom and accepting Elaina’s assurances that I don’t have any obligation to track down the sibling I may or may not have, I’m still reeling.
“You’ll do no such thing,” Gramps says, his voice gruff with emotion. “You’ll go, and I’ll pay for it. You’ve sacrificed enough for this family.”
I shake my head. “No, I haven’t. I’m happy here with you. I?—”
“Your dad left the facility last night,” he says, the words landing like another punch to the gut. “He didn’t even last a full week. Gary saw him at the pub last night.”
I curse, suddenly fighting tears myself.
“I know,” Gramps says. “I’m sorry, kid.”
“I already paid the co-pay! His bed was eight hundred dollars a day. The insurance only kicked in after I paid for the first three thousand in charges. I can’t get it back. It’s gone.” I curse, swiping at my leaking eyes. “For nothing.”
“Not for nothing,” he says gently. “Now you know. Nothing you do is going to change things with your dad.” He sighs. “Nothing I do, either. I’d be honored to spend the money I’ve been using to pay your dad’s mortgage to help put you through school. I’ll be back to work before you know it and?—”
“No, Gramps, you won’t,” I say, my jaw clenching tight. “It’s going to be months until you’re strong enough, and even when you’re cleared for work, I don’t think you should. The house is paid for and your retirement fund is in decent shape. If you get an easier part-time job somewhere in town and quit throwing your money away on Dad, you’ll be able to cover your bills. It’s time for you to quit worrying about the rest of us and take care of yourself.”
He huffs. “If you think that’s going to happen, you’re even crazier than Cathy thinks you are.”
My brows snap together. “What? What did she say? Because I swear to God, Gramps, if she’s gossiping about me behind me back, I’m going to lose it for real. She’s been on my last nerve since the hospital.”
“She told Jennifer who told Henna who told her mom who told Aunt Sue who told the priest who told me that you’re… Well, they said you’re mixed up with Weaver Tripp.”
I gulp and my heart free falls through my chest to crash into my churning intestines. “What?”
“Sea Breeze gossip,” he says, still sounding calm, though I know the explosion is coming any minute. He hates Weaver, and for decent reasons. “You know how it is. No one’s safe, no matter how hard they try to fly under the radar.”
I shake my head but don’t say a word. I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to lie, but I don’t want to give Gramps another heart attack, either.
“But she’s mistaken, isn’t she?” Gramps presses. “You know better.”
I sigh and curl deeper into the chair, pulling the afghan up to cover everything but my eyes.
Gramps curses, and I cringe a little lower.
“Honey, what the hell were you thinking?” he says, his tone strained. “He’s a psycho. Your dad picked that fight, but you should have seen what was left of him after Weaver was done.”
“I did see,” I say from under the cover. “I was there in the hospital room with you, Gramps.”
“No, you weren’t,” he says. “I wouldn’t have let you see something like that. I made you wait outside.”
I pull the afghan down, knowing this isn’t the time to hide. “No, you didn’t. I was right there, Gramps. I sat in the corner while you held Dad’s hand and cried. I’ll never forget it. It’s one of the sharpest memories in my entire life.”
His brow furrows. “Really? I would have sworn…”
“Really,” I say. “And that wasn’t all Weaver’s doing. Dad was in a horrible car crash. I’m not excusing what Weaver did, but…he’s not like that anymore. He was really good to me. Really, really good.”
Gramps snorts and rolls his eyes hard enough to get his head involved. “Right. Can’t wait to hear this.”
“He’s paying for Mia,” I say, deciding to cut right to the chase. “Even though I broke up with him.”
Gramps’ eyes widen. “What?”
“He’s paying for Mia. He’s also paying for the crew taking our boat out every day.”
He glowers, his brows twitching like angry caterpillars above his narrowed eyes. “Well, he can stop. Right now. We don’t need his charity. As soon as Mia gets back from her lunch break, I’ll tell her she’s fired.”
“No, you won’t,” I say. “You need her, and we can’t afford her without help. Not and have any chance of making it through the year without going into debt. Same with the crew. And there aren’t any strings attached here. Weaver knows it’s over. He barely looks at me when I see him in town. He’s doing his best to be respectful and give me space.”
Gramps curses, but it’s pain in his voice, not anger when he says, “Honey, why? He’s an old man compared to you. And cold as a witch’s tit. Even as a kid, he wasn’t right, Gert. He’d skulk around in the shadows, watching everyone with those X-ray eyes of his, like a creepy little spy.”
“Oh, come on, Gramps.”
“No,” he says, doubling down. “He was a weirdo. And way too quiet. Never trust a kid that quiet, there’s something wrong with them.”
I frown.
Quiet…
I have enough experience with kids to know that quiet isn’t normal. Even shy kids communicate in their own way and open up in situations where they feel comfortable. The only kid I know who was quiet all the time was Maya’s nephew, Reese, the one who we later learned was being abused by his dad.
Maya’s sister, Mallory, had to get a restraining order against her bastard ex during the divorce. Now, years later, and with plenty of therapy, Reese isn’t quiet anymore. When he comes to visit, he’s a happy, giggly boy who runs wild through the sprinklers with my second cousins, just like all the other kids.
And suddenly, like that, it all falls into place.
I rise from my chair, letting the afghan slide to the floor. “I have to go, Gramps.”
“What? Where are you going?”
“To talk to Weaver. I think I made a mistake.” I start toward the front door only to remember that I’m still in the grubby sweats and long-sleeved tee I slept in and reverse course.
“The only mistake you made with that man was getting mixed up with him in the first place.”
I pause with my hand on the back door. “No, Gramps. I forgot something important, something you taught me, actually.”
He blinks, his cheeks puffing out. “And what’s that?”
“You always made it clear that I wasn’t defined by the bad things that happened to me when I was little. I wasn’t the girl whose mom abandoned her or the kid with a drunk for a dad. I was me, and I got to decide how I defined myself. I got to choose to be the girl who was the apple of her grandfather’s eye and the best player on the rugby team and a person my friends could always count on.”
He sighs, nodding slowly. “And you did a great job of that, kid.”
“I know, thanks to you. And the rest of the family, even annoying Aunt Cathy,” I say, earning a grunt of amusement from Gramps. “I had a lot of people who loved me and helped me believe in myself. But…what if I hadn’t had that? Who would I have become then? I might have been a weird little kid lurking in the shadows with my X-ray eyes, trying to figure out if there were any grown-ups out there that I could trust. That’s what happens when kids are let down by the people who are supposed to love them and make them feel safe.”
Understanding dawns and his expression softens. “Damn…”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“His father was a bastard,” Gramps says. “Even worse than Rodger. Don’t know much about his mother, she didn’t leave the house much, but…”
“But it’s a safe bet his home wasn’t a great place for a sensitive kid to grow up,” I say. “And he is sensitive, Gramps. The icy exterior is just a mask. Underneath, he’s kind and compassionate and…” I exhale in a rush, “and bossy and frustrating and controlling, but also sweet and generous and he loves me. He really loves me. Even when I told him it was over, he just wanted me to know that he still cared and that he always would.”
Gramps eyes begin to shine again. “If that’s who he really is. And if you love him back…”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I think it is, Gramps. And I know I do.”
“Then go to him and talk it through,” he says. “But you’d better hurry. He’s leaving this afternoon, taking his friend’s private plane back to the city. But you can probably still catch him at the airport if you don’t dawdle.”
I shake my head, knowing better than to ask how he knows that. Gramps knows everything that happens in this town. And he knows me, a fact he proves when he adds, “Skip the shower and just throw some clothes in a suitcase and go, Gert. If he loves you, he won’t mind that you’re in your pajamas. And if you really love him, you’re going to want to get on that plane.”
On impulse, I hurry across the room, hugging Gramps with my good arm, getting choked up again as he cradles me close, whispering, “As long as you’re happy, baby girl. That’s all I ever want. Make sure he treats you like the treasure you are.”
“He does, Gramps,” I whisper. “He does. I love you. I’ll text you soon. Don’t fire Mia.”
And then I’m gone, sprinting up to my apartment and calling the one cab in town as I throw clothes in my bag. In ten minutes, I’m hustling back down the stairs with my small suitcase, still in my pajamas, but with a ballcap on over my wild hair and my teeth freshly brushed.
Crossing my fingers that I’ll be kissing Weaver again before the day is over, I meet Pete at the curb, and tell him to push the speed limit on the way to the airport.