Chapter Sixteen
Aidan and his father-in-law, two out of the three “old” guys at the bachelor party, break off from the rest of the group and
duck out, just the two of them. It’s been years since he’s had one-on-one time with Barclay, and the conversation while they
walk a few blocks to a bar is superficial: the Eagles’ Super Bowl odds. Ballooning local real estate prices. The new duckpin
bowling spot in Doylestown.
The bar is packed, a place that hasn’t changed since Aidan first snuck in with a fake ID when he was a senior at Central Bucks
West. He used to go because it was the one bar he could get into. Now he chooses it because it’s the last of a dying breed:
no flat-screen TVs, no craft beer and a bartender over the age of thirty.
Inside, the scent of decades of cigarette smoke and spilled drinks have seeped into the pores of the place. It has an old-school
jukebox that still works, and tonight it’s playing Bruce Springsteen’s Born to Run. Memories of his late wife set off a fierce wave of nostalgia.
The long bar is lined with wobbly leather stools.
Shoulder to shoulder with Barclay, Aidan orders a Sam Adams on tap.
He probably had enough to drink at the inn but can’t bring himself to order a water.
Actually, he might have had too much to drink.
What had gotten into him, inviting Maggie Hodges to join them tomorrow?
It had seemed like a fun idea in the moment, but that’s where it should have stayed: a passing moment.
He was sure, in the sober light of day tomorrow, she’d feel the same.
Aside from the episode at lunch, she seems pretty normal and chill.
And he can relate to her frustration with her daughter.
And yes, she’s attractive as hell, with luminous skin and flirtatious eyes.
“To young love,” Barclay says, raising his glass. Aidan is momentarily confused, as if Barclay read his mind about Maggie
Hodges. Then, embarrassed, he realizes it’s a nod to Scott’s impending marriage.
“I’m glad we have this time together, Dad,” Aidan says. It feels weird to still call him that after all these years since
Nancy’s been gone, but it feels weirder to revert back to calling him Barclay. Actually, he never had called him Barclay.
It had gone straight from Mr. Cavanaugh to Dad.
“I am too,” Barclay says. “But I gotta admit I’m a little surprised you’re here.”
Aidan is taken aback. “Surprised? I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Don’t get me wrong. You’re family. But even so, I’d think you had better things to do over a long weekend.”
Aidan lowers his mug to the bar top. “You don’t want me here?”
“Of course I do. When I say you’re family, I mean it. And as family, I just want to be real with you. For your sake, and for
that grandson of mine.”
“Cole? He’s fine. I don’t know what happened between him and Scott.” Aidan can only assume that’s what he’s talking about.
Barclay frowns. “They’ll work that out. No, I’m talking about Cole himself. I think it’s been hard on him without a mother all these years. Not that you haven’t done a fine job—that boy couldn’t ask for a better father. But there’s gotta be some reason Cole’s making bad choices with women.”
Aidan feels blindsided. What is Barclay talking about? He realizes now that Barclay invited him out specifically to talk about
Cole. He also realizes that if there’s a problem in his son’s life, he himself is clueless about it.
“Barclay, I gotta admit I’m a little lost here. What ‘bad choices’ are you talking about?”
His father-in-law leans forward and lowers his voice. “I promised Ritchie I wouldn’t get into it this weekend. So let’s just
leave it at this: Cole’s last relationship was inappropriate. People got hurt.”
Aidan feels a flash of annoyance. How does Ritchie know something about Cole that Aidan doesn’t?
“I doubt Cole is confiding in Ritchie. He’s a very private person.”
Barclay shakes his head. “Ritchie only knows about this from Scott.”
Scott? Aidan thinks of the fight between Cole and his cousin earlier. And his gut tenses.
“I’m confused. Is Cole dating one of Scott’s ex-girlfriends or something?”
“No, nothing like that,” Barclay says. “I don’t think Scott knows the woman in question. But Ashley—Scott’s fiancée—does.
And from what I understand, he had some words with Cole about it a few months ago. I’m guessing there’s still some hard feelings
there.”
Aidan starts putting some pieces together.
Yes, he’d noticed Cole had become moody and distant toward the end of the summer.
Then he seemed better, then regressed again.
Yesterday, during the brief drive over to the inn, Aidan casually asked how his dating life was going.
Cole just shrugged, and that was the end of the conversation.
Aidan didn’t think much of it. Cole could be quiet sometimes.
The jukebox plays Billy Joel’s “Innocent Man.” Barclay finishes his beer and signals to the bartender for another round. Aidan
quickly downs the rest of his before saying, “I appreciate you wanting to keep me in the loop. But Cole is a grown man, and
if he’s with someone Scott doesn’t like, that’s not something I need to know about. Not unless Cole wants to tell me himself.”
“Understood. But I’m letting you know what Cole and Scott are fighting about.”
The bartender sets the fresh mugs of beer in front of them. Aidan knows it’s a good time to change the subject. But now he’s
pissed. “It’s not really Scott’s business. What does he care?”
Barclay raises an eyebrow. “What does he care? We’re family.”
Aidan sighs. “Are you asking me to talk to Cole? Or somehow broker the peace between him and Scott?”
“No, no, no,” Barclay says, shaking his head. “Just the opposite; I know that’s asking a lot, but for the sake of the boys’
friendship, don’t say a word. Cole got pissed at Scott for telling Ritchie. If he knows this has gone all the way up the food
chain to you and me, he’ll never forgive him.”
Aidan feels hurt. Doesn’t Cole know he can confide in him? That he can talk to him about anything? Barclay must read this
on his face, because he says, “That boy thinks the world of you. He doesn’t want to let you down.”
That could never happen. “Everyone makes mistakes,” Aidan says.
“Ritchie thought the boys had mended fences before the weekend. But I guess he was wrong. And Aidan, I hold you partly responsible for him going down the wrong path here.”
“Me?” Aidan says defensively. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Look at the example you set. You’ve never brought anyone to a holiday, a dinner. Never mentioned anyone in your life. Not
in fifteen years. I can’t blame Cole for not knowing up from down when it comes to relationships.”
Aidan can’t believe it. He prides himself on having avoided the pitfall of bringing a parade of girlfriends into his son’s
life. Of course he’d gone out with a few people over the years. Recently, one of his vegetable purveyors, a woman named Beverly
Cricket, asked him out for coffee. He gently turned her down, but maybe he should reconsider. After so many years of making
Cole his priority, he’d maybe forgotten how to nurture his own life.
But Barclay, of all people, should understand all this. After all, it’s the memory of his daughter that Aidan’s was trying
to honor. He knew she’d want him to put their son first.
“I’ve done the best I can, Dad.”
Barclay nods. “I know you have. And I mean no disrespect. Just wanted to loop you in, as they say.”
“I don’t know what to do with this information,” Aidan admits.
“Forget I mentioned it,” Barclay says. “At least for now. It’s a party weekend, right? A few drinks, good food, the great
outdoors—he’ll get over this bump in the road.” Barclay raises his glass and Aidan mirrors him with his own.
“Okay. Well, thanks for telling me.”
Really, he almost wishes he hadn’t. How’s he going to spend all day tomorrow with Cole and not talk about this?
Maybe having Maggie Hodges and her daughter along is a good idea after all.
Piper leaves the table to take a call from Ethan. She finds a quiet spot in the lobby, curling up on a soft armchair near the crackling fireplace.
“How’s it going?” he asks as the sound of his voice warms her like a shot of whiskey. In the background, she hears cars honking
and an ambulance siren, a sharp contrast to her current surroundings. For the weekend, it’s a welcome change of pace. But
her life with Ethan is in the city and they agree they never wanted to move, not even after they get married and have kids.
(And yes, they’d discussed that far into the future—making the mystery of the vanishing ring all the more perplexing.) Even
if she considered living somewhere else, the guilt over abandoning Maggie would dissuade her. She saw how upset Maggie got
when Piper applied to college and suggested schools that weren’t within driving distance. She had no interest in repeating
that drama.
“Yeah, it’s really cute here,” she says.
“I saw your posts,” he says. “You met some good people?”
“Yeah, everyone is so nice.” She identifies everyone in her latest posts: Hannah Elise, and Lexi and Dove.
“Lexi and Dove are on their honeymoon,” she says pointedly, but he clearly doesn’t pick up on it.
“Piper, you know I miss you already. But I’m glad you had the chance to get away for a few days.”
“Gretchen called, but I don’t want to talk to her.”
“I get it. And you shouldn’t,” he says. “You’re on vacation from all that.”
She appreciates the validation.
“I know. I need it. I’ve got to hand it to my mom: This trip was a great idea. I just wish she wasn’t so sensitive. I took
one workshop without her and I can tell she’s pissed.”
There’s a pause, and then Ethan says, “No comment.”
Piper sits up straighter in the chair. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She hears him sigh.
“Nothing.”
But she can’t let it go. “Clearly it’s something. Why’re you being negative?”
“I’m not being negative. Just . . . have fun. I’m heading into the subway, but we’ll talk later.”
They exchange the usual I love yous, but the call leaves her with a bad feeling. She puts the phone back in her handbag and stands up to go back to dinner.
A few feet away, she spots Cole from the bachelor party. He sees her too and calls out, “We meet again.” He’s dressed in a
navy blue all-weather coat and a green-and-white Philadelphia Eagles scarf.
“Don’t tell me you still need to borrow my phone,” she says, smiling.
He shakes his head and holds up his own cell. “Back in business.”
Raucous group laughter comes from the direction of the stairs. Cole’s expression shifts, his face tensing.
“Shit,” he says. “This is going to sound crazy, but I’m about to pretend we’re long-lost best friends, so just go with it?”
The bachelor party descends on them before she can question him.
“Where’ve you been hiding, bro?” one of them says.
“We were about to leave without you,” says another.
“Uh, I actually just ran into an old friend of mine. This is Piper. Piper, this is my cousin Scott.”
Scott has wavy brown hair cut short and fair skin with freckles. She towers over him.
“Nice to meet you,” she says, feeling the eyes of the rest of the group on her.
The cousin asks how she and Cole know each other.
“The city,” she says, mostly out of habit. That’s usually her answer to that question.
“Philly?” one of them says.
“Yeah,” Cole says quickly. “Look, you guys go on ahead. I’ll catch up.”
The cousin points at her. “Don’t even think about tagging along. No girls allowed. It’s a bachelor party.”
“Wow. Okay. My loss.” When they’re out the door, she says to Cole sarcastically, “You sure you don’t want to go out with them?”
Cole, checking his phone, looks up at her. “I absolutely do not.”
“Well, that’s not very bachelor-party-friendly of you,” she says, aware she sounds flirtatious and willing herself to dial
it down. She doesn’t know why she’s doing it. Except that she’s hurt by Ethan. What was with that snide comment about Maggie
just now on the phone?
“I’m really only here for my dad,” Cole says. “It’s important to him.”
“I feel that,” she says. “My mom wants a girls’ weekend.”
“Makes sense. Left dad at home watching football?”
“Actually, it’s just me and my mom.”
“Divorce?” he says.
She nods—it’s easier than explaining the real story. “How about yours?”
“It’s just me and my dad too. But not because of divorce. My mother died a long time ago,” he says.
“Oh!” She feels stupid, though how could she have known? “I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago,” he repeats, his tone casual.
He’s probably had to explain it a thousand times over the years, and she understands how that, in itself, is as much a burden as the absence.
She’s always hated explaining the situation with her father, although she knew the two situations weren’t comparable.
She’d never mourned the loss of her father. It had always just been the way it was.
It helped that Maggie was always open and honest about him, encouraging Piper to ask questions: Where did they meet? A fashion
show. Were they in love? No, it was one night of passion. Did they keep in touch? No. Do you have any photos of him? No. Does
he know Piper exists? Yes.
There was a brief time during middle school when she was consumed with the fantasy of tracking him down. This was when she’d
gotten her first laptop, and she sat in her room at night going through his Facebook page. He was living his best single life
in Iceland. And then it became normalized—her father wasn’t a mythic being, but just a regular guy and probably a selfish
one at that. She knew by that time that any thoughts of a reunion were one-sided. And that was enough to leave it at just
that: thoughts.
Her mother had loved and cared for her enough for two parents. And she’d done it all on her own. Even Piper’s grandparents
hadn’t been around much. They sent Piper a Hallmark card and a check every birthday until she was eighteen, and there had
been times in their earlier years when they spent holidays at that big old house on the Main Line. But one day Maggie had
announced that she wasn’t going back—there’d been some falling-out with her mother. And then even those rare visits stopped.
Piper realizes she’s been an ingrate all day long. The least she can do is put her relationship issues aside and give Maggie
the mother-daughter weekend she wants. The one she deserves.
Cole’s phone buzzes, triggering some furious texting. After a minute or so she wonders if he remembers she’s standing there.
“Well, see you around,” she says. Completely distracted, he doesn’t respond.
Piper heads back to the group dinner and decides that tomorrow, she’ll join her mother for whatever she suggests. It will
be their day.
It’s the least she can do.