Chapter 24
CAMERON
Edison and I walk through downtown Nantucket at a rapid clip, parting sunburned tourists as we press forward through the crowded streets.
It's a gorgeous day, and I should take time to enjoy the island vibe. But I can't stop thinking about the last-minute meeting Mr. White arranged for an hour from now.
I tried to postpone it, demanding that my attorney be present. But Radha's booked with other clients this entire week. And as she pointedly reminded me, she isn't trained in family law.
There was nothing I could do but accept and see what Jason had planned.
Edison seems to understand my mood, sensing my anxiety. He looks up at me every few seconds as if to make sure I'm okay.
Tara had the same expression when I broke the news I wouldn't be able to shop with them.
The marina comes into view, boats bobbing like white toys against the dark water. Something about the sight reminds me of Brooklyn Bridge Park. And my stepfather Paul, who took me on long walks to admire the boats.
As a boy, I wondered if I'd ever be rich enough to afford even the smallest boat. Paul would always say the same thing: "Money's just paper, Cam. What matters is staying true to who you are."
Edison barks suddenly, tail wagging as he spots a familiar figure ahead.
"Salty!" I call out, genuinely pleased to see the old fisherman sitting at a café's outdoor tables.
He looks up from his coffee and grins. "Well, I'll be damned. Cameron and Edison, two days in a row. Small island, isn't it?"
"Getting smaller every day," I say, pulling out the chair across from him. Edison immediately flops down in the shade, panting slightly from our walk.
"How are you feeling after yesterday's adventure?" I ask. “That was quite a fishing expedition."
"Right as rain," Salty says, raising his coffee mug in a mock toast. "That daughter of yours is quite amusing."
The mention of Posey makes me smile. "Yeah. She's a born entertainer."
"Like her famous father," Salty observes. He cleans the interior of his coffee cup with a napkin, then pours water into it for Edison.
Edison lets out a grateful woof.
"You're quite resourceful," I say, laughing. "You remind me of my stepdad in that way. A grown-up Boy Scout with a Swiss Army knife for everything."
"That's me, all right. Your stepdad still living?"
I shake my head. "No. He passed away when I was eleven. It was pretty traumatic. I was glad to have a dad, even for such a short time. He bought me my first guitar. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be where I am today."
Salty and I sit in comfortable silence for a moment, listening to Edison lapping up the water and the cry of seagulls across the street.
"You're in a melancholy mood today," Salty says, looking at me more closely. "Though I'd say that's your natural countenance."
"Guilty as charged. But I am more apprehensive than usual."
"What's up?"
I take a deep breath. "You've read the town scandal sheets. You know why I'm here in Nantucket. The tabloids put the story out for everyone to see. Nearly five years ago I had relations with Alice Abernathy, the woman who turned out to be Posey's mother."
"She never told you she was pregnant?"
I shake my head. "She must have had her reasons."
"I've seen Alice around town when she was a girl," says Salty. "Independent young thing. She might have figured she didn't need financial support and wanted to raise Posey on her own."
"I get that. But then why did she name me on the birth certificate?"
"Maybe for a time like this. With her parents suddenly dead and Posey suddenly heir to a multi-million-dollar fortune."
"And a black-sheep-of-the-family brother all too eager to get his hands on it," I say. "How well do you know Jason?"
"Not well."
"Everybody on the island knows the Abernathys disowned Jason. But nobody is willing to say why. Do you know why?"
Salty leans back in his chair. "I have my ideas. But they're only ideas, so I'd rather not say."
I nod. "I have a meeting with Jason and the estate lawyer in an hour. Jason wasn't named in the Abernathys’ will, so he has no claim on the estate or Posey. But I can't help but think he's planning a custody suit. The thought of losing her guts me."
Salty nods a second time. He's not one for speculative gossip.
"I see you brought your guitar," Salty says, changing the subject. His gaze turns to the guitar case I've placed against the wall. "Off to some kind of impromptu concert after that?"
"No," I say. "Ever since I was a kid, I've always taken my guitar with me. I never know when I'm going to feel compelled to create a new melody. Or write a new song." I take my brown leather notebook from my shoulder bag and slap it on the table for emphasis.
"Songwriting doesn't come on schedule. You can't plan a hit song. It has to hit you like a lightning bolt."
"I like the poetry in that," says Salty. We both laugh, lightening the mood.
"I've heard your music, son," he says, more seriously. "I'm not keen on rock and roll myself, never have been, even when I was young. But I've heard your songs. I like them."
"Thanks." I take a deep breath. So far, I've only shared my thoughts with Edison. Can Salty be trusted?
I decide to go for it.
"Sterling Records wants me to sign another contract. They're the ones who found me, signed me back in the day. But they want me to produce the same type of music I've been making for the last twenty years."
The statement hangs in the air.
"But I want to write something real now. Something that matters."
"What's stopping you?"
"Money. Contracts. Fear of losing everything I've built." I gesture toward the marina. "My stepdad Paul used to tell me that staying true to yourself was the only thing that mattered."
Salty follows my gaze to the boats bobbing in the harbor. "Your stepdad sounds like a wise man."
"He was. And in the same way, I want Posey to think of me as a man she can be proud of."
As I think of Posey, an image of Tara comes into my mind. Yes. And Tara too.
"I want her to think of me as a man who's not just successful, but authentic. Like Paul was to me."
Salty looks me straight in the eye. "What if being fake means losing yourself? And what kind of father would you be then?"
The question cuts deep because I already know the answer. And it terrifies me.