Chapter 4
FOUR
HALLIE
All last night, I couldn’t get Gabe’s words out of my head. I figured someone should . Because I’m all that Pops has, and I left. Just like her .
Gabe tried to take it back, but it needed to be said. And I’m glad he’s been checking in on Pops in my absence. Now, though, I need to do better. Become someone my grandfather can be proud of. The job at Carole’s gallery is a start, until I figure out what I want to do long-term.
Staring at Clara’s living room ceiling in the middle of the night gave my mind ample time to fixate on other things, too. Like Gabe.
He still keeps his face clean-shaven, showing off his sharp jaw, but his hair is perpetually messy.
He got his first tattoo the moment he turned eighteen, and now his arms are covered in ink depicting different naturescapes.
I even saw a lighthouse on one of them. The tattoos suit him, and I can’t help but wonder if he has more beneath his clothing. I hope he does.
I had a feeling it would hurt, but bearing witness to just how much I’ve missed over the years was like taking a white-hot knife to the sternum.
And when I saw his daughter, an ache settled in my chest. The way he looked at her, so full of love—it was more than I could’ve hoped for him.
He’s a family man, through and through. I always knew he’d be a great dad.
But those tattoos. God, those tattoos… I ? —
“Checkmate!”
I blink, zoning back into the present. The present where my eighty-one-year-old grandfather has just kicked my butt at chess. Again.
“You cheated!” I accuse.
“Now, Junebug,” he says, still insistent on that silly nickname—because I was born in June. His finger wags as the tilt of his grin turns teasing. “I didn’t raise you to be a sore loser.”
The fact that he had to raise me at all still weighs heavily on me. It’s not my guilt to bear, but someone has to hold it, seeing as my mother hasn’t felt a lick of remorse a day in her life. Otherwise, she would have never left me behind to chase a life she was happier to live.
And I’ve never known my father. I’m the product of an affair my mother had with a married man. He moved his family—his real family—off the island shortly after she told him she was pregnant.
For so long, it was just Pops and Hallie. Hallie and Pops. Amanda would blow through town, cause chaos, then dip again. My grandfather was my constant.
And I repaid him by abandoning him.
I narrow my eyes. “I distinctly remember that knight being in a different position a couple minutes ago.”
Pops shakes his head. “I might have to start worrying about you. Your memory seems to be going.”
It isn’t funny, the thought of either of us losing our memory, but I laugh anyway. It makes Pops happy, to see me happy. I seem to be a little short on joy at the moment, but I’ll borrow as much as I need to keep that warm look in his eyes from fading.
A woman in a set of navy blue scrubs walks up behind Pops and rests a hand on the back of his chair. “Good game?” Teresa, his favourite personal support worker, asks.
He turns and grins up at her. “Every game with my Junebug is a good one.”
I have to actively blink back tears. Standing from my seat, I put my focus into packing up the chess pieces. I clumsily knock one to the floor, and as I bend to retrieve it, I take a moment to steady myself.
“I’m glad you had a good visit, Al,” Teresa says.
When she walks away, Pops returns his focus to me.
His gaze is assessing. If I had been the kind of kid to get into trouble, I wouldn’t have been able to get away with it under his watchful eye.
He seems to see everything. But luckily for both of us, I did everything in my power to actively avoid breaking any kind of rule.
“Are you planning to tell me what’s wrong?” he asks. “Or do I have to guess?”
I roll the rook between my fingers as I debate what to say. “Gabe Bowman visits you,” I decide on.
Pops nods. “Yes. We’ve had some nice chats over the years.”
I swallow as I place the rook back in the box. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here.”
I used to visit as much as I could. Between school and work, it wasn’t a lot. Pops’s retirement home is on the mainland, so I didn’t even have to set foot on Kip Island when I’d come up from Toronto. Yet the proximity always felt oppressive. Like I was being strangled with my own past.
He grabs my hand. “You have a life, Hallie. I want you to live it. As much as I love spending time with you, I don’t expect you to be here every day to keep me company. I’m in a good spot, I promise.”
I know he is. Even when I couldn’t convince myself to make the trip, I’d call often. He’d tell me stories that he’d heard from his friends, the latest drama on his floor. He is still Forty Acres Retirement Home’s reigning bingo champion. By all accounts, he has a better social life than me.
“I got a job,” I tell him. “Carole offered me a position at the gallery. It’s not a lot of hours, but it’s something, and it means I’m staying.
Pops gives my hand a squeeze before letting go. “You’ll be phenomenal.”
I finish squaring away the chess board as one of my grandfather’s friends comes over. They get into an animated conversation about a book they both read recently, and I smile to myself.
“Bye, Pops,” I say when there’s a lull. I lean down and kiss his cheek. “Try not to cause too much trouble. I’ll be back soon.”
Now that I’m home, I plan to make use of every second I have with him. To make up for the time I missed.
He smiles up at me, and his eyes crinkle at the edges. “I’ll be here.”
When I settle into the driver’s seat of Clara’s Volkswagen Beetle, which she has affectionately named Marv, out in the parking lot, I blow out a heavy breath. Then I force myself to put the car in gear and drive.
Boarding the ferry that will take me from Tobermory to Kip Island is a familiar dance. How many times in my life have I done it? Hundreds, if not thousands. I often went shopping with Clara and her mom on the mainland; Pops would take me down to the city to see a play or visit a museum.
Coming back to the island after a long day was supposed to bring with it a sense of relief, like your head finally hitting your pillow when you’re tired beyond measure. For me, the ferry pulling away from the dock was like the lock on a cage engaging.
Today, as I watch the late afternoon sun reflect off the water, I know it still feels the same. Trapped for another day.
When I push through her front door, Clara looks up from the romance book she’s reading. “Hey,” she calls. She’s curled up on the couch in her usual spot. “How was your visit?”
I paste on a smile, not ready to divulge to her all of my worries. They’re my burdens to carry. “It was really nice. I’ve missed him.”
“Who won today?”
I roll my eyes. “Pops. But you know he cheats!”
Clara laughs as she stands, setting her book aside. “I was thinking of going to Haven House to eat dinner with my parents. Wanna come?”
Once upon a time, I felt like part of their family.
But distancing myself from this place meant distancing myself from them, and now I’m not sure where I stand.
As much as I love Maggie and John, the thought of sitting down to eat with them while my head is such a mess leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
One look and they’ll be able to suss out that I’m feeling off.
Not to mention, there’s no telling whether a certain brother of Clara’s will be there, and I’m not quite ready to face him again. I’m not sure I ever will be.
“I’m actually feeling pretty tired, so I think I’ll just stay here. Tell everyone I say hi, though.”
“Are you sure?”
Maybe I’m being entirely too dramatic. Maybe Clara is right and I need to rip the Band-Aid off. Face the music. See the hurt in Gabe’s eyes once the shock of seeing me has settled.
I think, more than that, I’m scared of what I won’t find. What if he doesn’t care? What if he’s forgotten all about me—us and all of our almosts? I know I should hope that he has, but the prospect of being the only one still hung up on our past hurts.
“I’m sure.”
I don’t miss the concern that flits across Clara’s face. She’s been concerned since I showed up back in town. But she thankfully doesn’t let the expression linger for very long before she smiles. “Mom will probably send me home with leftovers. You can have them later.”
“Thank you.” I blow her a kiss. “You’re the best.”
Clara slides her shoes on and grabs her purse, then she’s out the door. I find a pair of pajama shorts and an old t-shirt to change into. The design is faded, but I know it’s the one I stole from Gabe before I left. I purposefully ignore that fact as I slip it over my head.
Once I’m comfortable, I take Clara’s place on the couch, my temporary bed.
Turning the TV on, I let it play a random nineties sitcom as I get lost in my head.
Now that I have a job locked down, it’s time for me to figure out a more permanent living arrangement.
One that doesn’t include springs poking me in the back when I’m trying to sleep.
A plan . I need a plan .