Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
DAVE
The hum of the highway fades beneath the soft sound of the radio and the occasional bursts of laughter from the front seat.
Matt is driving, his arm draped out the window, the salt-tinged breeze tossing his hair like he belongs here every bit as much as in Sycamore Mountain.
Ellie rides shotgun, humming along to “Lonely Road” by mgk & Jelly Roll as it pours from the speakers.
Me? Well, I’m in the back, watching the world turn from pine trees to palms. The road signs start flashing words like “Paradise Shores” and “Saltwater Cafe” and I realize we’ve got to be close now.
It’s not my first trip to the Florida Keys, but it feels different this time.
Maybe because we’re staying with Matt’s brother, Harrison.
The man’s built himself a life most people only dream about.
He has a sprawling oceanfront home with wraparound decks, floor-to-ceiling windows, and enough salt air to keep you invigorated for whatever comes your way. At least, I hope so.
When we pull into the drive, Harrison’s already outside, waving. He’s tall, tan, with the same easy grin as Matt. Though there’s something steadier in his eyes. You can tell he’s been through some hard things, yet managed to come out the other side stronger.
I didn’t spend a ton of time with Harrison or his family at the wedding. Hell, I only had one person on my mind that night. But I’ve heard a lot about him from Matt. And I’m grateful for the opportunity to get to know him better over the next few days.
“Hey. Welcome,” he greets.
“Dude. This place is absolutely amazing. Thanks for having me.”
“Yeah. We like it. Glad you could join us. You’re welcome anytime.” After hugs and backslaps, Harrison shows us around. His stepsons come barreling in from the beach, hair dripping, sand sticking to their shins. They shout about catching hermit crabs before racing past us toward the kitchen.
Harlow, Harrison’s wife, trails behind with a towel and a smile.
The kind that makes you believe she was born to anchor this family.
Then there are the boys’ dads—yes, plural.
Harlow’s ex-husbands apparently spend a fair amount of time here.
It’s a modern miracle, this blended bunch, but somehow, it works.
They’re all gathered around the grill later, teasing each other like brothers, laughing in the kind of harmony most families would give anything to have.
I stand there, paper plate in hand, soaking it in.
Watching this family co-exist, I start to think maybe, just maybe, if they can find a way to make this work, anything is possible. Even for a cynical guy like me.
After dinner, once everyone has left the pool and retreated inside around the television, I wander down to the lower deck overlooking the water, marveling at the sky streaked orange and pink.
Harrison joins me, hands in his pockets, his expression thoughtful.
He starts to speak, but our quiet moment is quickly thwarted as his youngest, Alec, runs up the stairs, then abruptly stops once he sees us.
He’s wearing an odd expression. A mix of uncontained laughter and guilt. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting anyone here. His hands, holding something unidentifiable, suddenly dart behind him.
“Oh, hi, Harry.”
“What’s up, Alec?” he responds, one brow quirked as if this is nothing new around here.
“Oh, nothing. Just left something by the pool.”
“Hey! What the—?” A male voice booms in the background.
“Gotta go,” Alec blurts before darting up the steps.
My eyes connect with Harry’s for the briefest of moments before footsteps come lumbering up the wooden stairs Alec had just traversed. Harry and I turn simultaneously to find Alec’s father standing there. Buck ass naked. He quickly covers his junk.
“Rob,” Harry greets flatly. I get the definite impression these shenanigans are a normal occurrence here.
His eyes drop to the ground. “Hey, Harry.” Then he’s off, flying up the stairs into the house.
“Hard to believe.” Harry chuckles. I turn to face him as he looks out over the water. “This place used to be so quiet. Only Mom and me here for years. And in the end, she barely spoke.”
I nod. I’ve heard a little about his back story. How he doted on his mother here after her Alzheimer’s diagnosis. How he managed to juggle his construction company during the day, then returned home, staying as close as he could to try to keep her safe and well cared for.
He looks out at the horizon. “When she started to forget who I was, I wasn’t sure I could do it.
Give her the end-of-life journey she deserved.
But Matt and I wouldn’t be who we are if it weren’t for her.
I owed her everything.” His voice cracks slightly, and something deep inside me shifts.
Because I get it. That desperate feeling that you should’ve done more.
That you could still do more. I reach over to grip his shoulder, hoping I can convey my sincere understanding.
“My mother’s back in New Jersey, in a small assisted living apartment.
When my dad left her for someone else, he did it in the cruelest way possible.
I’ll spare you the details, but her depression took over.
” My head drops. “I call her every day, but I’d give anything if she’d move to Sycamore Mountain with me.
To let me take care of her. She insists she’s fine where she is.
And her therapists have cautioned about any sudden changes that could revert any progress she’s made.
” I run my hand through my hair. “I should’ve moved back there.
But my anger with him would’ve put me six feet under.
Or in jail.” I stare out into the abyss, surprised I’m sharing all of this.
I normally keep my family drama close to the vest. “If that happened, who’d look out for her?
” I take in an unsteady breath. “So, for now, it is what it is.”
“These situations aren’t easy. From what it sounds like, she’s safe. And you’re there whenever you can be. And mothers have a keen intellect, even when their mental health is challenged. She’d see that you were miserable if you moved your life back there. That would only cause her more distress.”
“You’re lucky, Harrison. To have all this. To have all of them.” Turning to look at him, I add. “I bet she’s really happy for you.” I smile, knowing my mom would feel the same.
He glances at me. “You’ll have it too, Dave. When you realize you aren’t where you came from.”
I smile faintly. “Spoken like someone who’s been there.”
“I have. The club no one wants to join. But you know that. Matt’s an open book. I’m sure he’s told you what a scumbag my father is. I never wanted to risk putting a child through that. But we’re not our fathers. And this life is too short to give them that kind of power.”
The sounds of the boys’ raucous laughter float from the inside of the house as if on cue. Harrison smiles. “And I would’ve been the one missing out if I kept digging my feet in.” Turning toward the steps, he gives me a brotherly pat on the back before heading toward his family.
Later, when the moon’s high and the laughter from the deck fades into quiet murmurs, I sit alone with a beer, the waves licking at the shore. My mind wanders to the dancefloor the night of the reception.
And Char.
The effortless way that Char stole my attention.
While all of the young women in attendance wore slinky body-skimming dresses, batting their eyelids coyly at their dance partners, she gyrated to songs filled with the joy of a preteen at a middle school dance.
Utterly enthralled with life. Sure, she’d flip her hair to the beat of the song and look over her shoulder seductively at me.
But with the comedic timing of a Saturday Night Live skit.
I could bet this woman has absolutely no idea what a true delight she is.
The way she approaches everything with wonder.
She lights up the room. Her laughter had fed my weary soul on that dancefloor.
Before I knew it, the world had narrowed down to her smile.
Even now, I can still feel that energy in my chest, like static that won’t fade.
Okay. I admit it. It may have only been one night. But she’s lit up my dark, empty existence.
And I don’t want to go back.
Leaning back in my chair, I drag my hand down my face. The house behind me hums with an infectious energy. One of family, laughter, and love. My resolve starts to crumble. It’s obvious these two men have found their perfect partners. Now they’re building a beautiful life.
Why couldn’t I do the same?