43. Fisher
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
fisher
“She’s better at the voices,” Sutton pouts as I stick the bookmark in Kristy’s Big Day . Book six of the Baby-Sitters Club is apparently one of Libby’s favorites. Can’t say I love the series, even if the girls gush over it.
“Libby does a lot of things better than I do, sweet pea.” I wrap an arm around her and pull her closer. Her little head drops to my shoulder and she sighs.
Bing looks up from the end of the bed and whines. Even the dog misses our girl.
She left this morning. The sun had barely crept over the horizon when the three of us snuck down to the beach and took the dingy out to Glory Days . Cank was more than happy to let us borrow his boat for her escape.
The rest of us? There was no happiness to be found as we dropped Libby off at the Boothbay dock and watched her slide into the waiting limo.
All day my skin crawled. It hurt, sending her off on her own like that.
There are moments in life when it’s important for one’s partner to be present, to be supportive.
And for Libby, this is one of them. I should be with her, holding her hand.
Staring down Brad Fedder and memorizing reporter’s names so if even the slightest negativity about my girl is published, I know who to exact vengeance on.
“Why can’t I come?”
I sigh. “I never said I was going.”
But I am. I’ve already talked to Mrs. K about keeping Sutton.
“It’s like you’re half gone already.” She sinks farther into the mattress, her little lips tugged down. “You’re moving on, and you’re leaving me behind.”
Those words slice through my chest with so much force I have to press a hand to my sternum. I’m worried I’ll bleed out if I don’t.
“Sutton.” Once I can breathe again, I place my index finger under her chin and tilt her face up, forcing her to look at me. “Whether I go support Libby or I stay here—or if I visit her in Boston—I am never leaving you behind.”
She blinks rapidly, her eyes pooling with tears. “Are you sure?”
God, this kid is gutting me. “You and me, sweet pea.” I grasp her hand.
“We’re family. We’re a package deal. You’re mine and I’m yours.
Always.” The words stick in my throat, but I’m determined to get them all out.
“I loved your mom and dad. They were two of my favorite people in the whole world. And I will always make sure you remember them. I’ll make sure you know where you came from.
But Sutton, as far as I’m concerned, you are my daughter, and nothing— nothing ”—I swallow past the lump in my throat—“will ever change that.”
A tear slips from her eye and she launches herself at me.
“I love you, sweet pea.”
She sniffles. “I love you too.” For a minute we stay like that, but it isn’t long before her little body tightens. “Can I tell you a secret?” The words are so soft I barely hear them.
I pull back and nod, holding eye contact. The seriousness of her expression makes my anxiety spike. But I inhale deeply and exhale slowly, forcing a calm I don’t feel.
Sutton picks at her quilt. “I like it here. But sometimes…” Her voice trails off.
With her lip caught between her teeth, she drags her focus up to my face.
“Sometimes I wish we didn’t live here. I wish we could be like Grams and Gramps.
I wish we could live somewhere else and come here just to visit.
” She heaves a breath, and her words come faster.
“Where I could go to school with lots of kids my own age and see a movie in a movie theater. And go on an airplane and try McDonalds.”
The idea doesn’t shock me. I figured she felt this way. But she’s never voiced any of this before.
“Do you ever wish that we didn’t live here?” she asks.
I could lie, but she’s giving me her truths, and I owe her the same. “All the time, sweet pea.”
“So why can’t we leave?”
I wish there was a simple answer to that question.
She drops her gaze and goes back to picking at her quilt. “Maybe we could leave for a visit. Go see Libby, then see how we feel?” Her little voice holds so much hope.
I sigh, and her shoulders slump.
“I’m not saying no.”
She straightens, her eyes lighting up.
“I’m not saying yes either,” I warn.
Like a balloon losing air, she deflates again.
How the hell do I explain this situation to an eight-year-old? Part of me wants to avoid it, but I can’t. Not if Libby is in our lives. “You’ve read about the emails that Brad Fedder sent Libby, right?”
A little line forms between her brows. “He wasn’t as nice as Logan is on the show.”
“He’s worse than not nice,” I say seriously.
She purses her lips, her chin dropping.
Fuck. I struggle with the words. This isn’t easy. As I sort through my thoughts, I can’t help but be even more impressed with Libby, because she lived it and came out stronger.
“Libby was young. Barely older than you when they started working together on the show.”
Sutton nods.
“And Brad.” I clear my throat. “He did things, touched her, said things that made her uncomfortable. And instead of stopping when she told him to stop, he did it again and again.”
For a minute she just stares straight ahead, but her eyes move back and forth as she processes the implications. Finally, she swallows and peers up at me. “No one made him stop?”
Fuck. Pain blooms in my chest. Because no, no one made him stop. All those fucking adults around, people who should have protected Libby, and no one made him stop.
But I don’t want to scare her, so I take a breath.
“She didn’t have anyone she trusted enough to talk to.
She was afraid. But Sutton.” I wait until her eyes meet mine.
“Listen carefully to me.” I clear my throat.
“If you ever feel uncomfortable, if someone touches you in a way you don’t want, you tell me, and I’ll take care of it.
You should never be afraid to tell me anything. ”
She nods solemnly, the expression far too serious for such a sweet, innocent child. It hurts to see it, but she needs to know.
Lips turned down, she studies my face. “You listen to me,” she says, like it’s so simple. “Like with Flora.”
“I will always listen to you,” I promise.
“I’m really lucky I have you,” she whispers. “Libby didn’t have a you . She had a Logan .” Her tone turns harsh when she says the name.
Though I hate that I might have ruined one of her favorite shows tonight, I’d rather she didn’t idolize a person like Brad Fedder.
Sutton takes a deep breath. “Libby needs you.”
“That’s what I’m worried about, sweet pea.”
She nods. “You should go.” She’s resigned. She knows I can’t take her. Although the melancholy lingers, the anger is gone. “I’ll cheer really loud from here. So loud Libby will hear me and know how proud I am of her.”
The words suck the breath from my lungs. I haven’t looked at the situation that way. I haven’t thought of the moment as one where Sutton will see Libby shine. A moment Libby might want Sutton to see.
Guilt claws up my throat.
I smooth a hand down her hair and kiss her head. “Go to sleep, sweet pea. We can talk in the morning.”
Once Bing is settled on the foot of her bed and her moon lamp has been turned on, I shut the door and stomp down the stairs.
It’s too fucking quiet with Libby gone. I hate it.
“Want a beer?”
Wilder. He’s been here all day. Dealing with the constant flow of reporters who’ve come knocking and sending them all away. He hasn’t complained, and he hasn’t left my side.
“Thank you,” I say as he hands me an amber bottle. Though my appreciation is for something else entirely.
He clinks his bottle against mine.
“Elephant in the room?” I smirk. “Thank fuck the beard’s gone.”
He chuckles. “Dude, so many people have taken my picture. I couldn’t stand looking at it. It had to go.”
“Smart choice.”
He rests his forearms on the counter. “Elephant in the room?”
I hum in assent.
“Libby’s endgame.”
I nod. No doubt she is my forever.
“And she’s gone…” The words trail off like he’s expecting me to deny it, but we both know it’s true. “So… what the fuck are you still doing here ?”
I rear back like I’ve been punched in the gut. Once I’ve caught my breath, I drop my head into my hands. “Sutton.”
“Is very portable,” he jokes. “She’s what? Sixty pounds? Easy enough to pick up and move anywhere.”
I fight an eye roll. He’s ridiculous. “I can’t just go .”
“Why?” He says it like the idea is simple.
He, of all people, should get it. I can’t abandon the citizens of Monhegan. Hunter isn’t here anymore. That’s why I’ve slotted into his role. If I leave, then what happens?
“What do you mean why?”
He sets his beer down and plants his palm on the counter. “I mean why can’t you go? We’ve all been trying to get you to leave for a year now.”
I scoff. What the hell is he talking about? Every day, I swear this island needs me more, not less.
“Man.” He shakes his head, ruffling his messy blond hair. “Why do you think we keep piling on more shit jobs? We did it hoping you’d see that this life is not what you want.”
I sputter. Is he saying that all the deliveries and errands and goat herding nonsense?—
“I don’t understand.”
With a chuckle, he slaps my shoulder. “We all love you. But after a year on this island, you were miserable. We all see it. You’re not meant to stay here, so we started giving you shit to do, thinking you’d get fed up and say enough is enough. Instead, you just kept taking it.”
The air slowly leaks from my lungs. “Are you telling me Hunter never did all that shit?”
Wilder laughs. “No way he’d have put up with being the island errand boy. And that goat made him insane. That’s why when Libby finally brought it up, we all happily took over the jobs we’re capable of doing. We’ve just been waiting for you to realize that you’re meant for more than this.”
I rough a hand down my beard as I process what he’s saying. “You’re saying everyone wants me gone.”
“No.” He shakes his head resolutely. “If you were happy here, then we’d be thrilled to have you.
But you’re not. And we just want you to be happy.
Sutton too. There’s no reason to stay unless it’s what you want.
And it’s not. We’re not saying jump ship and never come back.
I expect you to visit all the damn time, or spend summers here, but your life has always been in Boston. ”
For three years, the possibility of leaving has felt just out of reach. But if what he says is true, if the islanders would accept us if we became summer people, then maybe…
I blow out a breath. There’s still one big issue.
Scowling, I bow my head. “I can’t. You know what Marissa and Hunter wanted.”
“Yeah.” He nods, spinning his beer on the island. “They wanted their kid to be happy and loved. Don’t you remember how they talked about being mainlanders during the school year once Sutton started first grade?”
Yeah, but when Marissa changed her mind about bringing Sutton to Boston, my brother thanked me for understanding, and all that talk seemed like just that: talk.
“Dude.” He shakes his head. “I’m going to be morbid here, but if something happened to you, what would you want for Sutton?”
Fuck. The girl can’t lose anyone else. My gut twists. Because if we stay here, won’t she be losing Libby?
Wilder sighs. “Just work with me.”
The words slip out easily. “I’d want her to be happy and loved.”
“Exactly. That’s all your brother wanted.” He gives me a long look, his expression far too serious for his always easy-going nature. “And he wanted you to be happy too.”
I shake my head.
“And I’d bet my boat that he’d love for Sutton to have a dad and a mom.” He tips his beer in my direction. “Even if that means living in Boston.”
I take a slow sip of my beer and mull over everything he’s been saying, knowing, deep down, that it’s all true. Marissa and my brother were wonderful parents. Putting myself in their position now, looking at Sutton as my child, makes it all so obvious. So easy.
Fuck, Wilder is smarter than he looks. And maybe a little smarter-looking now that the damn beard is gone.
Hunter and Marissa would want Sutton to be happy. They’d want her to be surrounded by people who love her. But there’s one thing I’m still not 100 percent sure of. “I don’t even know if Libby wants that kind of responsibility.”
Wilder breaks into a wolfish grin. “You won’t know if you don’t ask her.”