33. Family matters
33
FAMILY MATTERS
Ford
Late the next day, I stopped by the restaurant near closing to catch Dante and Conner, but only Dante was around, with a few guests lingering at scattered tables.
Reed, the bartender, took my order and let Dante know I was there.
Last night with Mara had been spectacular. Our connection only deepened the more time we spent together.
I found the flashes of self-confidence I’d seen in her from the very first day sexy as hell. She’d been rocked by the blows life had landed on her over the past year, but she was finding her way back to normal. As hard as it was to see her battle self-doubt, I loved watching her confidence grow stronger.
Pretty soon, that woman would set the world on fire. I could already see the spark in her—small but unmistakable. It was a privilege to witness her reignite it after everything life had thrown her way.
I pulled up photos of her on my phone, thumbing through them. My favorite was the one of her standing at the top of Mount Washington with a view of Pittsburgh far below. In it, the breeze lifted her hair and her smiling brown eyes gazed directly into the camera. We’d had an amazing day together. The first of many.
“What has you in such a good mood?” Dante asked, startling me.
Even though I was a little embarrassed to be caught mooning over a photo, I tilted my phone so he could see it. “Mara,” I admitted.
His quick grin appeared. “Are things going well with her?”
I nodded. “Excellent. I couldn’t be happier.” Which was true. I hadn’t been this content in—I couldn’t even remember how long. Ever?
Dante raised his eyebrows, beaming. “That’s great to hear.”
With surprise, it struck me that Mara had become an essential part of my life, and that left me confused. So much of my happiness right now was tied to her. I tamped down my sudden anxiety. I needed to roll with this and see how things evolved, not overanalyze.
“Here for dinner?” Dante asked. “You haven’t been stopping by as often since you started taking my cooking classes.” He slid a menu closer to me.
I waved it away. “I had some of the leftover Chicken Moambe I made for Mara yesterday.” At his questioning eyebrow, I explained, “It’s an African stew with chicken and peanut butter.”
Dante’s face split into a huge grin. “Damn. Am I happy to hear that. You’re taking the cooking techniques you learned and finding new recipes on your own. That’s exactly what I hoped for.”
“Thanks for talking me into taking your class.”
He shrugged. “Couldn’t have you eating takeout and frozen dinners the rest of your life.”
Coming back to my hometown reconnected me to the world. Los Angeles was great, but there was something about the pace of life here that drew me in. Made me feel more connected. Maybe it was because I was spending more time with family and old friends. The cooking lessons. The family get-togethers. The plans for my movie.
And, of course, Mara was quickly becoming the center of my contentment.
I didn’t want this to end. This life I was building. These connections I was forging.
And… if I wanted this to last—if I wanted to build a future here— Ghost had to be a success. Everything depended on it.
Dante came around the bar and sat on the stool next to mine. “How’s your dad doing?” he asked.
I paused, trying to come up with an answer. It was complicated. At the Memorial Day parade yesterday, Dad had seemed happy, but he left my sister’s place early, saying he had to make a business call. As he turned to leave, he’d dragged his palm across his chest. I saw a flicker of deep loneliness in his eyes. Was he thinking about Mom? Missing her?
I cleared my throat. “That’s one of the reasons I want to stay in Sewickley. Dad’s become more detached than I remember. He’s been hiding it well, but I’m starting to see that he never truly recovered from losing Mom.”
Dante scratched his cheek. “Not to be callous, but didn’t she die over twenty-five years ago? Why is he depressed now?”
“I don’t think it’s a recent thing. It’s been getting worse for a long time. I just didn’t notice it before.” But was that all there was to it? Dante had a point. Why now? Was there something I was missing?
Dante put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle shake. “Don’t blame yourself. People keep things hidden all the time. You’re not a mind reader.”
His words struck a chord. Chelsea had kept plenty of things from me. Was Dad doing the same? “I hear you. But he’s my dad. It’s my responsibility. I’m hoping I can help him now that I’m around more. I should have done it sooner.” Guilt washed over me, and I looked away. “McCormick told me that people in the industry are starting to notice Dad’s problems, and it’s affecting Ross Film Productions.”
Dante’s hand fell away. “That’s not good.”
“I’m hoping that making my movie with him will turn things around…. as long as we make something great.”
Dante caught my eye with his gaze. “It’s a done deal then? You’re filming here? That’s great. Sounds like the perfect solution for all your problems. If anyone can do it, you can.”
His words steadied me, and I nodded, hoping he was right. “This movie has to be a success. Everything’s riding on it.”
“No pressure,” Dante deadpanned.
“None.” I forced a laugh. “Only all my hopes for the future.”
No pressure.
So much of my happiness was tied to her, and that scared me more than I’d like to admit. What if I was wrong? What if it all fell apart? What if she disappeared from my life right now? Would everything come crashing down?
When it happened to Dad… when Mom had died… he’d managed to hold everything together and make Ross Film Productions a success, even though he’d been ravaged by grief. He’d kept going. Losing her hadn’t completely destroyed him, but—it had gutted him. I could recognize it now, as an adult.
I finished off my beer. I’d take my cue from Mara. From that burgeoning self-confidence of hers I admired so much. I could do this—make my movie a success and rescue Dad’s floundering company. Could I solve his personal problems too? Maybe. At the very least, I could be here to help him figure them out for himself.