Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
In which I introduce Ocean to my parents and things come full circle.
Snow-laden branches stretched over the winding road like frozen archways. The early morning sun filtered through the evergreens, casting long shadows across the untouched drifts that blanketed the landscape like nature’s down comforter. The Catskills were gorgeous in all four seasons, but I loved them most in the winter when they had this aura of wild beauty, of rugged wilderness. Houses were few and far between in this part of New York, and my parents loved the quiet solitude after living in the busy, noisy city for so many years.
I’d had a long conversation with my friend Marcus about what we were trying to do, and he’d immediately agreed. He and I both knew his company was basically worthless at this point. If we could convince Preston to buy it, Marcus would at least get some money out of it and would be able to walk away with his head held high.
So Marcus was fully on board, and so was the FBI, after I gave Agent Thompson the details. Oliver had set everything in motion, so the trap was set. Now, we had to wait for Markowitz to inform Preston.
I could’ve easily filled my day with work, but I hadn’t been in the mood, so I’d suggested we drive upstate to see my parents.
Ocean sat beside me in the back of the car, his hand resting casually on my thigh as he gazed out the window. “You know what’s funny?” he asked, turning those stunning eyes my way. “Every time someone mentions ‘upstate New York,’ they mean something different. I still have no idea where upstate starts and ends.”
I chuckled, covering his hand with mine. “That’s because to anyone from the City, everything north of New York City is considered upstate. But ask anyone from other parts of the state, and they’ll tell you something different. Some think anything past Westchester is upstate. Others say Buffalo, though technically, that’s western New York. And the locals don’t consider it upstate until you’re practically in Canada.” I squeezed his fingers. “The Catskills, where my parents live, could be called ‘midstate’ since there’s still plenty of New York above them.”
“That doesn’t really clarify much,” he said dryly before turning his attention back to the winter wonderland outside. “It is gorgeous here.” His voice carried that sense of wonder that never ceased to amaze me.
“It’s even better in summer when everything’s green and alive. Though there’s something magical about it in winter too.”
Ocean pressed his face closer to the window, his breath fogging the glass. “Look at those icicles! They’re like nature’s chandelier.” His eyes sparkled with childlike enthusiasm that made my chest tight. “How much farther?”
“About ten minutes.” I squeezed his hand, noting the slight tremor in his fingers. “Nervous?”
“Me? Nah, I’m cool as a frozen lake.” He flashed that crooked grin that never failed to make my heart skip a beat, but I caught the uncertainty swimming in his eyes. “Though I gotta admit, meeting the parents is kind of a big deal. And it’s not like I have a lot of experience with parents.”
The sad truth of that statement hit me hard. It made me extra grateful I’d called my mom the day before when Ocean had been out shopping and had given her a quick rundown of what to expect. I’d wanted to avoid her asking any questions that could be hurtful to him.
“They’re going to love you,” I assured him, though my stomach was doing somersaults. I’d never brought anyone home before, so Ocean was right. This was a big deal for both of us. “Just be yourself.”
“That’s all I know how to be, baby.” He turned to face me, his expression softening. “Thanks for bringing me here. For sharing this part of your life with me.”
The simple sincerity in his voice made my throat tight. Before I could respond, the car slowed as we approached the long driveway that led to my parents’ farmhouse. The car rounded another bend, and I caught the first glimpse of smoke from my parents’ chimney rising through the trees.
Ocean’s grip on my thigh tightened as the farmhouse came into full view. It sat nestled against the backdrop of snow-covered hills, its red siding a bright splash of color against the winter whites and forest greens. Mom’s collection of bird feeders hung from the front porch, creating a flurry of activity as cardinals—the only bird I knew by name as their red color made them easy to identify—and countless other birds darted back and forth.
Ocean let out a soft gasp. “This is like something out of a Christmas card.”
Before the car could come to a complete stop, the front door swung open. Mom appeared on the porch, wrapped in her favorite quilted jacket, with Dad right behind her. They both wore those enormous smiles that always made me feel like a kid coming home from college.
“Ready?” I asked Ocean, but he was already reaching for the door handle.
The blast of cold air that hit us was nothing compared to the warmth of my mother’s welcome. She rushed down the cleared path, her arms already opening wide. “It’s so good to see you.” She hugged me tightly. “It’s been too long.”
“So happy to see you, Mom.”
She stepped back, then cupped my cheeks in her hands, giving me a scrutinizing look. “You look good.”
Ocean could take the credit for that, but we had agreed to keep that aspect of our relationship to ourselves. “Thanks, Mom.”
I reached for Ocean’s hand, then tugged him forward. “Mom, this is Ocean.”
“Ocean! Oh, we’re so happy to finally meet you!” She wrapped him in one of her signature hugs before he could properly introduce himself. I watched his initial surprise melt into something softer, more vulnerable, as he returned her embrace.
“The pleasure’s all mine, Mrs. Sullivan,” he said, his voice carrying a slight waver that probably only I could detect.
“Oh please, it’s Marie. And this is Robert.” Dad stepped forward, extending his hand, but Mom was having none of that.
“Robert Sullivan, don’t you dare be formal. This boy needs a proper welcome.” She gave Ocean a gentle push toward Dad, who chuckled and pulled him into a hug.
I stood there watching, my chest so tight it hurt, as my parents welcomed the man I loved like he was already family. When Mom’s eyes met mine over Ocean’s shoulder, they glistened with tears, and she mouthed, “He’s perfect.”
The lump in my throat grew bigger. He was.
My father gave me a tight hug, holding me a few seconds longer than usual. “So happy for you, kid.”
Jesus, they were gonna make me cry.
“Let’s get you boys inside before we all freeze,” Mom said, already herding us toward the house. “I’ve got fresh coffee brewing and a delicious treat that just came out of the oven.”
The familiar scent of home hit me as we stepped inside—wood smoke from the fireplace, Mom’s coffee, and something else that made Ocean’s eyes light up.
“Is that cinnamon?” he asked, inhaling deeply.
“Apple cinnamon bread.” Mom beamed. “Cash mentioned you love it.”
Ocean shot me a look that was equal parts surprised and touched. “You remembered that?”
“I remember everything about you,” I said quietly, then felt my face heat when Dad cleared his throat, reminding me we weren’t alone.
“Here, let me take your coats,” Dad offered, already reaching for Ocean’s jacket. “Marie’s been up since dawn getting everything ready. You’d think the Queen was coming to visit.”
“Robert!” Mom swatted his arm, but her eyes were twinkling. “I wanted everything to be perfect.”
“It already is,” Ocean said with such genuine warmth that Mom’s eyes went misty again. “This place is incredible. Like waves of love washing over you the moment you walk in.”
I watched my parents exchange a look I knew well—the one that said their hearts had just been stolen. Ocean had that effect on people, that ability to see straight to the essence of things and express it in a way that made you feel seen and understood.
“Cash tells me you’re quite the gardener,” Ocean said to my dad, gesturing to the windowsill full of thriving herbs. “It’s a shame you can’t show me your garden in the winter, but I’d love to hear about what you’re growing.”
Dad’s face lit up like Christmas morning. “Oh, you’re interested in gardening?”
“I’m interested in anything that brings life and beauty into the world,” Ocean replied, and I swear my father actually blushed.
I caught Mom watching me, and her knowing smile made me duck my head. Yeah, I had it bad. And from the looks of it, my parents were already halfway in love with Ocean too.
“Well, let me tell you about our plans for spring,” Dad said, already moving toward his favorite armchair. “We’re expanding the vegetable garden this year, and I’ve got some interesting heirloom tomato varieties…”
Ocean followed him eagerly, settling onto the couch while Mom disappeared into the kitchen, presumably to fetch the apple cinnamon bread. I trailed behind her, needing a moment to compose myself. The way Ocean had instantly connected with my parents, how naturally he fit into this space that had always been my sanctuary, was overwhelming in the best possible way.
“He’s wonderful, Cash,” Mom said softly as she pulled the bread from the cooling rack. Her hands moved with practiced efficiency as she sliced it. “The way he looks at you…”
“Mom,” I warned, but my voice was thick with emotion.
She turned to face me, her eyes serious. “I’ve never seen you like this. So…open. Happy.” She touched my cheek, the gesture so familiar it made my chest ache. “It’s all we’ve ever wanted for you.”
Ocean’s laughter rang out from the living room, followed by Dad’s deeper chuckle. The sound wrapped around me like a warm embrace.
“I love him.”
Mom’s eyes welled again. “I know, sweetheart. I knew the moment you walked in.” She patted my chest. “You’re carrying yourself differently. Like you’ve finally let go of something heavy you’ve been holding on to for far too long.”
My mom had always seen far more than I wanted her to. Before I could respond and confirm how right she was, Ocean’s voice called out, “Hey, Cash! Your dad’s showing me pictures of teenage you. Nice hair, baby!”
I groaned. “Dad, please tell me you didn’t break out the photo albums.”
“Of course I did,” Dad replied unapologetically. “Ocean needs to see what he’s getting himself into.”
“Dude, you had a mullet!” Ocean’s delighted laughter filled the room as he leaned closer to the photo album spread across his lap. “Business in the front, party in the back, and all that jazz.”
“It was the style,” I defended weakly, dropping onto the couch beside him. The old leather creaked beneath our combined weight.
“That style was a crime against humanity,” Mom chimed in, setting a tray of coffee and bread on the coffee table. The cinnamon aroma wafted through the air, making my mouth water. “I kept telling him to cut it, but you know how teenagers are.”
Ocean’s shoulder pressed against mine as he turned another page. “Oh man, look at those acid-wash jeans. You were such a little rebel.”
“Still is,” Dad said with a knowing smile. “Remember when you tried to convince us to let you buy the house next door and convert it into a bed and breakfast?”
“A bed and breakfast?” Ocean’s eyes lit up like a sunrise over water. “Please tell me there’s more to this story.”
I groaned. “There really isn’t?—”
“Oh, there absolutely is.” Mom settled into her reading chair with her coffee. “He was seventeen and had this whole business plan worked out. New York City drew big crowds of tourists, and he was convinced we could make money off them.”
Ocean nudged me playfully. “Already showing those CEO skills.”
“Oh, he was, but he’d forgotten about the fact that someone needed to run it and it couldn’t be him since he was still in school. And no way was I quitting a federal job with great benefits and a nice pension for something that uncertain, no matter how great of an idea it was.”
Dad chuckled. “Cash has always dreamed big.”
The warmth in Dad’s voice made my throat tight. I watched as Ocean absorbed every detail of these stories, these pieces of my past, with genuine interest and affection. His hand found mine, fingers intertwining like they belonged there.
The apple cinnamon bread was amazing, and we chatted about everything and nothing until it was time to bring up the toughest subject. I took a deep breath, finding strength in Ocean’s hand in mine. “There’s one thing about Ocean that I haven’t told you guys yet because I wanted to tell you in person.”
My parents looked at me with a mix of curiosity and dread, probably picking up on my heavy tone.
“Ocean’s real name is Palmer. Palmer Levine. He’s Preston’s son.”
I’d rarely seen my father so speechless. My mom recovered first. “Are you…? Do you still talk to him?” she asked Ocean.
“No. I haven’t seen him in almost five years.” He hesitated. “He wasn’t a good father, to put it mildly. He was mostly absent, and in the end, he was… He hit me.”
That was the understatement of the year, but it was enough.
My mom’s eyes filled with tears as my father’s face hardened in a way I had rarely seen. “No man should ever raise his hand against a child.”
“I was nineteen,” Ocean said.
“But still his child. It’s despicable.”
While my dad was furious, my mom’s heart went all soft. “I’m so sorry for you, honey. Growing up without your mom like that. We loved Marcia. It broke my heart when she died so young.” She cocked her head, studying Ocean. “And now that I know, I can see the similarities. You have that same spark she had.”
Ocean swallowed thickly. “I’d forgotten that… I hadn’t realized you knew her. I mean, of course you did, but that hadn’t registered with me.”
“We did. She was such a wonderful young woman. Beautiful inside and out. It always pained me that she ended up with Preston. He didn’t deserve her.”
It was hard to argue with that.
Ocean’s grip on my hand tightened, and I could feel the slight tremor running through him. “What was she like? My mom?”
Mom leaned forward in her chair, her eyes soft with memories. “She had this laugh that could fill a room. The kind that made everyone else want to laugh too, even if they didn’t know what was funny. And she had such a big heart, so empathetic.”
“She loved the ocean,” Dad added quietly. “Used to talk about taking these long walks on the beach whenever she could. Said it helped her think.”
I’d forgotten about that, but Dad was right. Marcia had grown up in Maryland, on the shores of Chesapeake Bay, and she’d missed it.
A tear slid down Ocean’s cheek, and he quickly wiped it away. “That’s probably where my love for the ocean comes from.”
Mom made a soft sound of distress and was on her feet in an instant, moving to sit on Ocean’s other side. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and he leaned into her touch like a plant seeking sunlight.
“You know,” she said, her voice thick with emotion, “we have some photos somewhere, I think, from when we threw a graduation party for Cash. She was there, and I know she’s in several pictures. Would you like to see them?”
Ocean’s “Yes” came out as barely more than a whisper, but it echoed through the room like a thunderclap. I watched as my father stood without a word and headed for the storage closet, where they kept all their old photos.
I’d never felt more grateful for my parents than I did in that moment, watching them piece together fragments of Ocean’s past with such care and love. He had helped me heal and find closure, and now they were able to do that for him.
Funny how fate had a way of coming full circle.