Chapter 5
Chapter Five
NATALIE
Waking up in my childhood bedroom felt like taking a trip with Doc in the DeLorean. For a split second, I expected to hear Dad whistling as he made breakfast downstairs, the aroma of his famous blueberry pancakes wafting up to greet me.
But reality came crashing back. Dad was gone. And I was left with an ache in my chest and a head full of memories.
I stretched and sat up, glancing at my phone.
LIAM
Had to head back to the city but didn't want to wake you. Enjoy the time with your mom and call me if you need me. I love you.
NATALIE
K, thanks. Love you.
A pang of guilt hit me. Liam had been nothing but supportive through all this, even if he didn't quite get my complicated history here. I needed to woman up and end things. It wasn't fair to keep stringing him along.
I threw on some clothes and headed downstairs. Mom was at the kitchen table, clutching a mug of tea and staring blankly out the window. She looked so small, so fragile. It broke my heart.
"Morning, Mom." I dropped a kiss on her head before pouring myself some tea.
She startled slightly, pulling herself out of her daze. "Oh. Hi, honey. Sleep okay?"
"Yeah, fine." I slid into the chair across from her. "How are you doing?"
She attempted a brave smile. "I'm managing. One moment at a time, right?"
I nodded. "Listen, I was thinking we could go to Dad's office today? Start sorting through things?"
What I didn't say was that the sooner we got this over with, the sooner I could get out of Sable Point. I hated the idea of leaving her, but I couldn't be here.
Mom took a shaky breath. "I suppose we should. Your father loved that place. Put his whole heart into building that business."
"He did. And he'd want us to... figure out the best path forward."
Uncertainty clouded Mom's eyes. "Natalie, we need to discuss the future of the firm. Whether to sell or..."
She trailed off, but I knew what she was hinting at. The possibility of me taking over had been hanging in the air since Dad's diagnosis .
But everything happened so fast.
I wrapped my hands tighter around my mug. "I know, Mom. And I'm not sure what the right answer is. But I think going to the office, being in that space, it might give us some clarity."
It was a lie. I'd already made my decision. Sort out the accounts. Get all the documentation in order. Sell the business.
But she wasn't ready to hear that. I'd break it to her eventually.
"You're right." Mom leaned over and squeezed my hand. "Your father always said you had a good head on your shoulders. He had so much faith in you, Natalie. In your strength, your resilience."
I shifted in my seat and tightened my grip on my mug. "I hope I can live up to that. To him."
"You already do, honey. Every single day."
We finished our tea in contemplative silence. Then we gathered our things and headed to the heart of Sable Point.
The bell above the door jingled as Mom and I walked into the modest brick building that housed Choi Accounting. At one time, that sound was comforting, now it set my teeth on edge.
Jeanette, Dad's secretary of twenty years, greeted us with red-rimmed eyes. "It just hit me all over again when I came into work today and he wasn't here." She hugged Mom tightly before composing herself. "I know I've said it a hundred times at this point, but I'm so darn sorry for your loss. Ed was the best boss I ever had. The best man. "
Mom returned her embrace and patted her gently on the back. "Thank you, Jeanette. He adored you, you know."
Jeanette tutted and waved a flappy hand. "I hear you've been making quite the name for yourself in Chicago, Miss Natalie." She shot me an appraising look as she continued. "Your dad was so proud—always bragging about his hotshot daughter in the big city."
Another wave of regret seeped over me, leaving me hot and queasy. How many family occasions had I blown off while climbing the corporate ladder? Repeatedly telling myself I'd do better next year. Now it was too late. I could never reclaim that time now that Dad was gone.
"I don't know about hotshot," I managed, glancing at Mom before turning back to Jeanette. "But I did learn from the best." An uncomfortable silence settled between the three of us—like we were all waiting for Dad to stroll through the door. "Maybe we should..." I gestured toward his office.
"Of course." Jeanette nodded and stepped aside to let us through. "I haven't touched anything. It's all just as he left it."
Mom's hand trembled slightly while turning the doorknob to Dad's office—a room frozen in time, with its heavy oak desk, wall of filing cabinets, and framed photos capturing our family history through the years. Mom and Dad at their wedding, the father-daughter dance in second grade, our first trip to Seoul.
A photographic timeline of my achievements—high school graduation, where I'd been named valedictorian; college graduation, where I'd earned summa cum laude; a dinner celebrating my first big promotion after only nine months on the job.
And there, in the midst of the memories, was the cluttered desk and Dad's worn leather chair. For a second, I saw him sitting there, glasses perched on his nose as he poured over a ledger.
But the chair was empty. And it would stay that way.
Mom moved to the wall of filing cabinets, running her fingers over the labels. "Thirty years of clients. He cared for every account like it was his own money."
Pride and pain twisted inside me. "He was the best at what he did."
"He really was."
Mom and I settled ourselves in his office. By unspoken agreement, we each took a guest chair, leaving Dad's seat vacant. Our first task was to clear the desk, emptying drawers and sifting through loose papers. It was mundane work on the surface, but the finality of it pressed on my chest.
As we worked, Mom shared stories—little anecdotes and memories of Dad. The time he worked until midnight to help a client facing an audit. The way he'd always buy Girl Scout cookies from every kid who came to the office, even though he was trying to watch his sugar. His corny jokes that never failed to make his clients laugh.
Listening to her, absorbing these glimpses into the daily rhythms of his life, it was a strange mix of comforting and gut-wrenching. Each story was a precious insight, but it was also a reminder of the moments we'd lost, all the new memories we'd never get to make .
"Remember that time Jasper and I came here after school and hid in the bathroom until Dad walked in?" I asked. "Oh my gosh, Mom. I don't think I'd ever heard Dad scream as loud as he did when we jumped out at him."
Mom and I burst into a fit of giggles, breaking the somber mood.
"This is how he'd want things to be. He'd want us to be laughing. To remember the happy times," Mom said.
"I wish I'd made more memories here with him the last few years."
"Just because we weren't here in Sable Point doesn't mean we didn't make great memories together."
"But I should have been here when he was sick."
"You couldn't have known it would happen so fast, Natalie. We all thought there'd be more time."
It gave me some measure of comfort to know she didn't blame me for not being there in his last moments. But a well of guilt remained in my stomach, deep and dark and unwilling to dry up.
We spent the next few hours sorting, organizing, and making lists of what needed to be done. I threw myself into the mind-numbing work, grateful for the distraction.
As I was cross-referencing some files, Mom cleared her throat. "Natalie, I've been talking to our lawyer."
I froze, a cold dread seeping through me. I couldn't run from this conversation forever.
Mom continued, "We have a few options. We could sell the business if we can find a buyer. Or..." She looked at me intently. "Or you could take over."
My head snapped up as she carried on.
"Your father always said he wanted to pass it down to you someday, but..."
But I'd left. I ran away to the city, to a shiny corporate accounting job—a life far removed from the small-town roots that had started to feel more like shackles than a safety net.
"Mom, I..." My throat tightened. "I can't. I mean, I have my job in Chicago, and..." And I was a coward. A selfish coward who was terrified of letting people down, of not measuring up to the impossible standards I set for myself. Terrified of settling down in a small town and watching all my dreams wither and die. Of being forced to see Jasper day in and day out, a constant reminder that I'd ruined my only chance at real love.
"I want to do right by his clients. They'll be in better hands with someone more qualified." The lie tasted like acid on my tongue, but I pressed on. "I don't have his years of experience, his goodwill in the community. Maybe it's better to just sell. Let someone else carry the torch."
"Oh, honey." Mom squeezed my hands. "No one expects you to be your father. You'll carry on his legacy in your own way, on your own terms. And everyone in Sable Point adores you. They watched you grow up. They'll rally around you."
She paused, making sure to catch my gaze. "But only if it's what you truly want. Your dad, he'd never want you to take this on out of obligation. He'd want you to pursue your own dreams. Whether that's here in Sable Point or back in the city or anywhere in between. "
I studied the photos on Dad's wall while I let her words sink in. She was right. Dad always wanted me to follow my own path, even when it led me far from home. He'd told me not to let some misplaced sense of duty push me down a road that wasn't right for me.
And I had no intention of letting that happen.
Mom wandered over to Dad's chair and stroked the battered leather. "Natalie, no one would blame you for not wanting to upend your whole life. Your father would want you to do what makes you happy."
But what would make me happy? It was a question I'd been avoiding for far too long.
Mom gave me a sad smile, like she'd heard every one of my thoughts. "You don't have to make any decisions right now. Give yourself some time. I'll support you no matter what."
I nodded. She was right. I didn't have to figure out my entire future today. But I needed to do it soon.
"What do you say we call it a day?" Mom suggested. "We can come back tomorrow, keep chipping away."
"Sounds good. Maybe we can grab lunch at Rosie's? I've been dreaming about her grilled cheese."
"Rosie's it is."