Chapter 16
VANCE
To distract the girls and myself from worrying about Lila at work, I suggested we drive down to Wrenport for the day. Delphine had asked if Annie could spend the day with us, and Mia enlisted Grace as well, so I decided I’d take all four girls out for some fun.
The sun had just burned through the morning fog by the time we pulled into Wrenport.
The little seaside town always reminded me of a painting, with its weathered cottages tucked along cliffs and wind-swept cypress trees leaning toward the ocean as if to gather its secrets.
Wooden signs painted in cheerful blues and greens swayed above shop doors, and seagulls called out from their perches on the shingled rooftops.
The storefronts were a patchwork of color—mossy greens, faded marigolds, seafoam blues.
The salty breeze hit us the moment we stepped out of the car, carrying the scent of brine, driftwood, and fried seafood. Wrenport perched on the cliffs like a secret waiting to be found.
The girls spilled onto the sidewalk with wide eyes. Margot stayed close to my side, her hand finding mine.
“This place is awesome,” Annie said.
“Have you been here before?” I asked.
“I think so, but it’s been a long time,” Grace said. “My mom always says it’s too far of a drive.”
“Mine hates those curvy roads we have to take to get here,” Mia said.
“I’ve never been anywhere like this,” Margot said quietly, looking up at the colorful buildings.
“Really? Not even in France?” Grace asked.
“I can’t remember for sure, except that Mom didn’t like leaving the city much, so probably not.”
“Well, you’re going to love it here,” Mia said, linking her arm through Margot’s. “Wait until you try the fish and chips.”
“Can we get fish and chips first?” Grace asked, pointing at The Salty Gull, which had a sign out front reading “Fresh Catch Daily.”
“Absolutely,” I said. “But do not feed the seagulls. Last time I made that mistake, they followed me for two blocks.”
Mia shook her head. “They’re such nuisances. One time at the beach, a big fat one stole Annie’s sandwich.”
That sent the girls into gales of laughter as they recounted the story for me. Margot smiled, glancing up at me like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to laugh too. I squeezed her hand.
“Then Grace wrote a song about how a seagull ate her friend’s sandwich and made us all gather around to listen to her sing,” Annie said.
“In my defense, it was a very traumatic occasion,” Grace said, giggling.
We ordered battered cod and hand-cut fries served in paper boats with lemon wedges and malt vinegar.
I grabbed a table with a view of the sea, perched on a craggy bluff where wildflowers grew between the rocks and the tide churned in a lazy rhythm.
We all dug into the food as if we hadn’t eaten in a week.
“This is really good,” Margot said after her first bite, her eyes widening.
“Right?” Mia said. “Way better than anything in the city.”
“Everything’s better here,” Margot said softly, then looked at me. “With you, Papa.”
My throat tightened. “I’m glad you think so, mon c?ur.”
While we ate, I asked the girls about their favorite subjects at school.
They happily answered between bites of the delicious food. Mia loved English class and art; Grace was all about drama; Annie liked all the subjects, but preferred P.E.
“What about you, Margot?” Annie asked. “What’s your favorite subject?”
Margot hesitated. “Art, I guess. And recess.”
“Recess counts,” Grace said seriously. “That’s when all the real social learning happens.”
“If I could be in P.E. all day, I’d be so happy,” Annie said.
“Are you excited to start at a new school?” Annie asked Margot.
“I guess so. I wish Mia could go with me.” Margot picked at her fries. “I’m afraid no one will like me and I’ll have to eat lunch all alone.”
“No way,” Grace said. “You’re going to be super popular.”
“How do you know?” Margot asked.
“Because you’re pretty and fun,” Annie said.
“And smart,” Mia said. “Don’t forget that part.”
Margot looked from one girl to the next, her brow wrinkled as if trying to decide if they were telling the truth. “Maybe I’ll make friends. Like you guys.”
“You will,” Grace said. “You’ll find your tribe, just like we have.”
“I want to be part of this tribe,” Margot said, looking down at her plate.
“Oh, you totally are,” Annie said. “You’re like our new little sister.”
Margot looked up, a slow smile forming. “I am?”
“For sure,” Annie said. “Now it’s not just Madison, but you too.”
“We’re all family,” Grace said. “And now you’re part of it.”
Margot beamed, then picked up a fry and dunked it into her ketchup.
“Are you looking forward to high school?” I asked the three older girls, mostly to keep myself from crying. They were being so kind to my little girl, and it hit me right in the chest.
“Not really,” Mia said. “Although our moms have assured us it’s better than middle school.”
“Middle school should be outlawed,” Grace said, biting an end off a piece of fish.
I chuckled. “Yeah, it’s always been terrible. And think about this—my mom was a teacher. Thirty years of seventh grade.”
They all groaned.
“Are you rich from that wine app thing?” Annie asked, surprising me.
I hesitated, unsure how to answer. I didn’t want to sound like I was bragging, but the truth was, it had made me very wealthy. “Let’s just say I don’t have to work again if I don’t want to.”
“Do you want to?” Grace asked.
“I thought about opening a wine shop,” I said. “But I quickly talked myself out of it. I wouldn’t be here with you girls if I had a job.”
“I’m glad you don’t have a job then,” Mia said. “Because this is the best day ever.”
“The best,” Margot echoed, smiling at Mia.
Later, we wandered down Wrenport’s main drag, where the sidewalks were uneven with age and every window promised a new treasure: glass-blown jellyfish, hand-stitched sea creature puppets, baskets of polished sea glass. Wind chimes whispered from every corner.
Then we reached Groove Line Vinyl, a little record shop tucked into what used to be a boathouse. “You girls want to check this out? See if we can find anything for my vinyl collection?”
“You have a vinyl collection?” Mia asked. “You totally should’ve put that in your profile. Mom’s been talking about getting a record player for ages.”
“Is that so?” I asked. Today would be the day she got one. “Let’s find one for your mom. And we’ll get her some records. You know her favorites?”
“Sure. She makes me listen to them in the car on the way to school,” Mia said.
I held the door open for the girls and followed them inside the shop, which smelled like old cardboard, sandalwood incense, and static.
The walls were plastered with concert posters, and the wooden floor creaked with every step.
Crates lined every wall, labeled with handwritten tags: Jazz Queens, Coastal Blues, Sad Girl Indie, Desert Road Trip.
The girls dispersed like firecrackers, flipping through the bins with delight. Margot stayed beside me at first, watching the others.
“Want to help me look?” I asked.
She nodded. “What are we looking for?”
“Anything you think Lila would like. Jazz, mostly. But also singer-songwriters.”
“I don’t really know what that means,” Margot said.
“Here, I’ll show you.” I guided her to a crate and pulled out a Diana Krall album. “See? Her name’s on the front. And there’s usually a song list on the back.”
Margot studied it carefully, then started flipping through the bin with newfound confidence.
“I’m low-key obsessed with this place,” Annie said, holding up an Emmylou Harris album.
“I found Norah Jones,” Grace said. “Should I grab it?”
“Yes, please do,” I said.
Mia held up a Cécile McLorin Salvant record. “Mom loves her.”
“Great. Let’s add it to the stack,” I said.
“Papa, is this one good?” Margot held up a Melody Gardot album—the exact one I’d been hoping to find.
“That’s perfect, sweetheart. Great eye.”
She beamed. “Yay.”
I smiled and grabbed the nearest crate marked New Arrivals. I found another first pressing, then asked the clerk if they had Diana Krall’s Turn Up The Quiet.
By the time we were through, we had ten albums to get Lila’s new collection started—all approved by Mia and Margot, who’d gotten surprisingly invested in the hunt.
After I paid for the records, I turned to the girls. “Now, ladies, we need to find a turntable.”
“Mom’s going to be so excited,” Mia said, bouncing on the tips of her toes.
“Will she really like it?” Margot asked. “The record player?”
“She’s going to love it,” Mia assured her. “Especially because we picked it out together.”
We hunted through the antique shops until we found a Marantz turntable with scuffs along the lid and a tiny chip in one corner. The guy behind the counter said it worked perfectly, but I had him play a record just to make sure. Soon enough, we were headed to the car with our treasures.
By then it was the middle of the afternoon and quite warm.
I suggested ice cream, which was met with great approval.
We found a quaint, old-fashioned candy and ice cream shop down a side street.
They made me smile when they all ordered mint chocolate chip.
I got salted caramel for myself, and the five of us sat on a bench outside to enjoy them under the shade of an oak tree.
“After this, we should go to that T-shirt shop,” I said, gesturing toward it with my cone. “They’ve got all kinds of shirts with funny sayings. You girls can each pick one to take home.”
“Really, Vance? That’s so nice,” Mia said. “You’re pretty good at this father-figure thing.”
“I’m trying to win you all over, so it’s not really that nice.” I grinned. “But I’m glad you think so.”
“This really is the best day ever,” Grace said. “When I think of what my dad was like, I think of him like you, Vance. He and my real mom died when I was a baby. My mom’s actually my aunt.”
“I’m sorry about your parents. That really sucks,” I said softly.
“Yeah. It’s weird, though, because I don’t really miss them—I don’t remember them. I was six months old when my mom adopted me. She’s my real mom’s sister. Basically, she gave up her whole life to take care of me.”
“I remember my dad,” Annie said. “I was nine when he died. He wasn’t like you, though. He was quiet and stuff. Mom says he’d fought depression his whole life. It finally won.”
“I’m sorry, kid,” I said.
Annie looked down at her bowl of ice cream.
“Me too. I used to be kind of mad at him—like, why didn’t he want to hang around to be with Mom and me?
But I’ve been through a lot of therapy, and I have a much better understanding of depression.
It’s a thief, you know.” She spoke so wisely and with such maturity that it kind of broke my heart.
“I still miss him, though. He used to make pancakes on Sundays. Shaped like animals.”
“My dad just left on purpose, not because he died,” Mia said. “He replaced us. And I don’t miss him. At all. I actually hate him.”
Margot had gone very quiet, staring at her ice cream.
“My mom kind of did that too,” she said finally, her words thin and uncertain. “She didn’t die or anything. She just … didn’t want me anymore. Because Derek didn’t want kids.”
The other girls went silent.
“That’s really hard, Margot,” Grace said gently.
“But you have your dad now,” Annie added. “And he really wants you. That’s obvious.”
Margot looked up at me, eyes shining. “Yeah. I call him Papa.”
My chest ached at the sight of these young faces, all touched by loss and abandonment. These girls had been through too much in their young lives. No wonder they’d decided to play matchmaker for their mothers.
“Vance’s dad left too,” Mia said. “So he gets it.”
“Sorry, Vance,” Annie said.
“It was good he left when he did,” I said. “We were better off without him.”
“Do you ever hear from him?” Annie asked.
“No. I have no interest in ever seeing him again. He was really bad to my mom. I was relieved when he left, even though it hurt.”
“So you’re basically like us,” Annie said. “No father.”
I nodded. “That’s right. But I have a wonderful mother. So yeah, I’m just like you guys—except for my silver hair and the fact that I’m ancient.”
That made them all giggle. Even Margot.
We finished our ice cream and walked over to the T-shirt shop together. They took forever to decide which ones they wanted. While I waited, I sat in one of the chairs by the dressing room, smiling to myself as I listened to them debate the merits of at least a dozen shirts each.
Finally, they decided. Annie chose a soft black tee that said Kick Like a Girl in bold varsity font with a tiny soccer ball graphic.
Grace found a lavender shirt with Main Character Energy in glittery script, surrounded by tiny stars and theater masks.
Margot chose a pale blue shirt with a watercolor paintbrush and the words Create Magic in soft script. She held it up to show me, uncertain.
“That’s beautiful, mon c?ur. Perfect for you.”
She smiled, hugging it to her chest.
And Mia? A cream-colored shirt with a hand-drawn sketch of a paintbrush bouquet and the phrase Make Something Beautiful underneath.
“These are all great choices,” I said.
“But wait. We found one for you too.” Mia held up a shirt with a glass of red wine on the front and lettering that read: Aged to Perfection.
I laughed and held out my hands to take the tee. “You four think you’re funny, huh?”
“We are funny,” Grace said. “And that’s like the most perfect shirt for you ever.”
“I couldn’t agree more. Come on, let’s pay for these and head home. I want to stop at the store to get some things for dinner. I told your mom I’d cook tonight, since she’ll be late.”
As I headed to the counter with our shirts, I heard Annie say to Mia, “You’re so lucky.”
And Margot’s small voice adding, “I am too, right?”
“One thousand percent,” Annie said.
Nothing in the world had ever made me feel as full—or as grateful—as I did in that moment.