Chapter 3
ALEX
It took me hours to move past the shock of seeing Gillian’s profile on the dating app.
I’m not sure how long I sat in front of the computer, staring at the photos of the woman I once loved.
How could it be that she was here in Willet Cove?
When we parted ways at the end of that long ago summer, we had agreed that timing was everything and we just didn’t have it.
I’d been with her when she received the call from the authorities.
Her sister and brother-in-law had been killed in a car accident, leaving a six-month-old baby in Gillian’s care.
She’d been shocked and heartbroken, of course.
But she’d immediately made plans to head west to the baby.
She’d been only nineteen and in her second year at a dance academy.
I’d hated to see her give up her dreams, but there was no one else to take baby Grace.
It was a testament to the kind of woman she was that she didn’t hesitate.
Selfishly, I’d asked God to find a way for her to stay, but he had other plans for her.
And I couldn’t go with her. Not when I was about to start my last year at MIT.
It had taken a lot for me to get there in the first place.
My mother working two jobs. My intense commitment to academia.
Making a better life for myself and my mom.
Even I, a total romantic, could not see a way for us to be together.
So, we’d said a tearful goodbye, agreeing not to stay in touch—better to keep it simple and not add complications.
All very stoic and reasonable of us. Regardless, watching her walk out of my life was one of the hardest things I’d ever experienced.
Life went on, as it does. I met Mattie and fell in love with her and her kids.
I had no idea what had happened to Gillian.
Still, I thought of her often, wondering what had become of her.
I’d thought about looking for her on social media from time to time but had always talked myself out of it.
Before Mattie died, it seemed wrong somehow.
After she died, I was too overcome with grief to think about much else but the kids.
Now, two years later, I’d stuck my toe in the dating app waters and there she was. The one who got away.
I’d assumed she’d be married. I found it hard to believe, after all these years, and as beautiful and interesting as Gillian Horton had been back then, that she had not been snatched up.
She was not divorced, according to her dating profile, so she had never married.
All this time she’d been raising Grace alone.
That she’d opened a dance studio did not surprise me. If she’d had to give up her performance dreams, owning her own studio was an obvious second choice. Now that I thought about it, I’d driven by a dance studio called Grace and Motion in the main part of town. It had to be hers.
I’d sent her the message a few hours ago but had not heard back. I might not. Which would be fine. But I’d wanted to at least reach out, mostly out of curiosity. Hopefully, she remembered me. Maybe our three-month romance hadn’t stuck with her like it had me.
The kids had come home from their various activities just in time for dinner.
Sonya had left us a casserole to heat up and I’d thrown together a salad.
We usually ate at the kitchen table instead of our formal dining room but I insisted we all sit down together.
Mattie wanted that. And anyway, I looked forward to our dinners immensely.
Now that I was retired, I could be there for them, unlike when I’d worked long and unpredictable hours.
“Did you guys have a good day?” I asked as I joined Peter and Bella at the table.
“I did,” Peter said. “Grady gave me a surf lesson this morning and then I met some kids around my age on the beach and spent the day hanging out with them.”
“I’m glad you’re meeting other kids,” I said.
“Yeah, everyone’s so laid back here compared to home,” Peter said.
He still called San Francisco home even though we’d lived here for a year already. What did I expect? He’d spent his first fifteen years there.
“How about you, Bella?” I asked.
“It was fine,” Bella said, picking at the casserole on her plate. “What is this anyway?”
I wasn’t exactly sure. Sonya often made us dishes crammed with vegetables as if it were her own personal mission to make sure we ate nourishing food.
This particular dish had spinach, mushrooms, cheese and chicken sausage.
I thought it was tasty but Bella was a picky eater.
She missed her mother’s cooking. Mattie always made her whatever she asked for.
Since it was up to me now, I told the kids to eat what Sonya left for us or make a sandwich. This was not always met with delight.
After Bella had huffed off to her room that morning, she’d come out an hour later in her bathing suit and coverup and informed me she was going to the beach with some friends. I knew it was the truth because I’d tracked her phone.
“Did you guys see each other at the beach?” I asked.
“Yeah. I saw Peter but he pretended like he didn’t know me,” Bella said.
“That’s not true,” Peter said. “I told you, I didn’t see you.”
“If you ever took your eyes off that girl, you might have noticed me.” Bella forked a cherry tomato and popped it into her mouth, brown eyes glittering.
This fourteen-year-old version of Bella was not my favorite of her stages.
She was either confrontational or aloof.
Nothing I did was right. The little girl she’d once been—the one who worshipped her daddy—was nowhere to be found.
“Do you like a girl?” I asked Peter.
He shrugged, blushing. “I like this girl named Zoe, but I don’t think she’s into me. She’s a really good surfer. And I’m not.”
“She doesn’t like you because you’re a beginner surfer?” I asked. “That doesn’t sound nice.”
“She likes me okay as a friend, but she’s into Drake. He’s kind of the alpha of the surf gang.” Peter drank from his milk glass, then wiped his upper lip with his napkin like his mother had taught him to do.
“That guy has a reputation,” Bella said.
“A reputation? For what?” Peter asked.
“He’s kind of a player. From what I heard,” Bella said.
Peter ignored her, focusing his attention on me instead. “How was your day, Dad? Did you do anything?”
It crossed my mind to mention the dating app but decided against it. God knows what Bella would say about it. And I certainly didn’t want to mention seeing Gillian on there. My daughter wouldn’t want to know I’d loved someone before her mother.
A little voice whispered in my head. What happens if she writes back?
“Not much,” I said. “Took a run. Went into town to the bookstore.” Signed up on a dating app.
“Do you want to talk about Mom?” Peter asked. “You kind of seemed like you wanted to this morning.”
“Do you want to talk about her?” I asked.
Peter forcefully cut a cucumber in half with his fork, causing it to skid off the plate. “I don’t want to talk about the day she died. I’d rather talk about when she was alive.”
“Let’s do that,” I said. “What are some of your favorite memories?”
“Do you remember that time she got in a fight with the ump at my game?” Peter asked, brown eyes lighting up. “And she actually threw a punch at him?”
“Oh, I remember all right,” I said.
“What was she mad about?” Bella asked.
Her longing tone made my heart hurt.
“He called me out at the plate when she thought I was safe,” Peter said. “All of a sudden, I look over and she’s in the ump’s face.”
I groaned, shaking my head at the memory of my tiny wife launching herself at a six-foot umpire.
“They banned her from the rest of the game. I had to take her home and then come back for you. She was spitting mad. I heard about it all the way home. That temper of hers was always getting her in trouble.”
“How old was I then?” Bella asked.
“Peter was ten, so you were eight,” I said. “But you weren’t there for that game. I was secretly glad. I didn’t really want you to get any ideas about how to deal with conflict by attacking authority.”
“The guys thought it was cool,” Peter said.
“She never got mad at any of the refs at my soccer games,” Bella said.
“I think she learned her lesson after Peter’s game,” I said. “Once she cooled off, she was actually really embarrassed.”
“I liked going to the movies with her,” Bella said. “We’d get popcorn and a soda to share and we always laughed at the same things. And one time after the movie she took me to get my ears pierced. That was a fun day.”
“Dad, have you thought about dating?” Peter asked.
I blinked, shocked to hear the question out of the blue.
“I have. A little,” I said. “Sonya told me to get on a dating app. One called Second Chance.”
“That’s for old people,” Bella said. “Right?”
“It’s implied in the name that it’s for people looking for a second chance,” I said. “Which inevitably means it’s people old enough to need a second chance.”
“You wouldn’t go on there, would you?” Bella’s eyes widened, clearly horrified. “That’s for losers. All those women on there would only want you for your money.”
“We don’t know that,” Peter said. “There are nice women out there too. I see single moms at my baseball games all the time, and they seem super sweet.”
“Maybe you should introduce me to one of them,” I said lightly. “If the app doesn’t work out.” The moment I said it, I knew I shouldn’t have.
“Did you put your profile up?” Bella asked, her expression suddenly sullen.
“How could you?” She pushed away from the table.
“I’m not eating this crap.” She grabbed her plate and tossed the whole thing into the sink before running out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom. Once again, she slammed her door.