Chapter 8
SERAPHINA
After Hunter and Tyler left, I went to my office, hoping to get a few pages written instead of worrying about my son’s driving.
Bertha and I did our thing, but I was distracted.
Finally, I gave up and went to the living room.
The late afternoon light was so pretty this time of year.
I grabbed a book and sat in my favorite spot by the window, watching apple blossoms ride the breeze.
Finally, I heard the crunch of gravel from the driveway.
I lifted my gaze from the book to watch as they pulled in, Tyler at the wheel.
For a second, I saw him not as the taller than me teenager learning to drive, but the little boy he’d been on the first day of kindergarten.
It had all gone so fast. Now I was the mother of a nearly grown boy, learning how to let go even though I desperately wished it was not so.
I would do it all again in a heartbeat. Even the nights when he was an infant when I’d barely slept were precious to me.
Memories had a way of morphing like that, leaving only the pleasant part of experiences instead of some of the hard details.
Tyler was talking as they got out of the car.
They seemed at such ease in each other’s presence.
I hadn’t thought it possible that Tyler would welcome someone into our lives so easily.
None of us had thought any of the kids wanted their mothers to marry.
We’d all thought we were doing the right thing by staying single and making our lives about our kids.
However, seeing Lila and Gillian marry such wonderful men, and Esme and Grady finally figuring out how perfect they were for each other, and the children thriving in blended family life, I had to admit we were wrong.
Our cheeky offspring had seen what we couldn’t.
“Mom, we’re home,” Tyler called out, coming through the front door.
I went to greet them. Tyler was flushed and smiling. Hunter seemed completely calm. I had no idea how he did it.
“Mom, I did great. Right, Hunter?”
Hunter nodded, clapping Tyler on the shoulder. “He did really well.”
“We went up the coastal highway,” Tyler said.
My chest tightened at the thought of all the curves along that highway, perched above the ocean. One wrong move and the car went over the side of the mountain.
“Don’t worry, Mom. We were totally safe. Even the curves.”
“I’m glad I didn’t know that’s where you were,” I said.
“I’m starved,” Tyler said. “Can we start dinner?”
“I’m hungry too. Let’s make it happen.” Hunter gestured toward the kitchen as Tyler sprinted that direction.
I caught Hunter’s hand, stopping him. “Thank you for taking him out,” I said quietly. “You have no idea how much it means to him to learn to drive.”
“Oh, I know exactly. I was a fifteen-year-old boy once too.” He leaned down to give me a quick kiss. “You have a fine boy, Seraphina Sinclair. Well done.”
I flushed with warmth. “Thank you. I like him quite a bit myself.”
We headed to the kitchen. Tyler was already there, staring down at the seasoned steaks.
“How do we know if they’re ready to grill?” Tyler asked.
“They should be ready by now. Anyway, we’re ready, so they’re as good as they can be,” Hunter said. “Ideally, they need twenty-four hours in the fridge with the salt rub, but we’ll do that next time.”
Next time. Why did that nearly knock me over with the pure joy that flooded my veins?
“I’ll make the salad and asparagus if you two want to grill,” I said.
“Excellent. Tyler, take me to the grill. Let me show you how a good southern man grills up a steak.”
“Is it different than a west coast man would do?” Tyler asked so genuinely that it made my eyes feel scratchy with promised tears.
“I don’t know,” Hunter said. “But probably.”
I took out the ingredients for the salad, but then went to stand by the open French doors to the patio, curious about how one made the perfect steak, southern style.
I had a sudden ache for my dad, wishing he was here to be part of all of it.
He would have loved Hunter. I knew that with certainty. But he was somewhere, watching over us.
Hunter lifted the grill lid, checking the grate. Tyler leaned in, watching carefully. Hunter showed him where to lay the steak, how far from the center of the heat. Tyler nodded, clearly hanging on every word.
“Okay, so we already did the hard part,” Hunter said. “Seasoning it right. That’s half the battle.”
“Salt from high up. Don’t be timid.”
Hunter chuckled. “Exactly. Now this part’s about heat and patience.”
He held his hand a few inches above the grates. “Feel that? That’s what we want. Grill’s good and hot so we can get a proper sear.”
Tyler mimicked him, then pulled his hand back quickly. “Yeah, that’s hot.”
“Good,” Hunter said. “Go ahead and lay the steak down. Away from you.”
Tyler placed it carefully on the grill. A sharp sizzle followed.
Hunter nodded once. “Now we leave it.”
Tyler glanced up. “Don’t move it?”
“Not yet. You already seasoned it right—now you let the heat do its job. Two, maybe three minutes. You’re building that crust.”
Tyler shifted his weight, clearly itching to do something. “So we just stand here and watch?”
Hunter chuckled. “Kind of like life. One must let things unfold in their own time.”
They stood side by side as the edges of the steak begin to change color.
“When it’s ready, it’ll release easy when you flip it. If it’s sticking, it’s not ready.”
Tyler crouched slightly, studying it. “Okay, got it. This is way more detailed than I thought it would be..”
“It’s a rite of passage—learning how to grill. Kind of like driving.”
“Yeah. That’s cool,” Tyler said.
The vulnerability in his voice, the obvious yearning for approval, kind of broke my heart. I’d not realized how much he wanted and needed a father figure in his life. How could I have not seen that more clearly?
After a moment, Hunter nodded. “Go ahead. Flip it.”
Tyler slid the tongs underneath and turned it over. Clean. Even from the doorway, I could see perfect grill marks lining the surface.
Tyler’s face lit up. “It looks good, right?”
Hunter gave an approving nod. “Now same thing on this side. Then we’ll move it over just a bit—let it finish without sitting right on the hottest part.”
After a few minutes, Tyler shifted the steak slightly as instructed. “So not directly over the flame the whole time.”
“Right. Sear first, then ease off. You don’t want to rush it. Also, one last thing,” Hunter said. “When we take them off, we don’t want to cut into them right away.”
“Why not?” Tyler asked.
“Resting keeps all the juices where they belong.”
Tyler nodded slowly. “Patience and rest. And salt.”
Hunter glanced at him, a slight smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “Don’t push too hard, right? Like in life?”
I left them to it, returning my attention to the salad and asparagus, feeling warm all over.
We ate at the kitchen table with the patio doors open to the May evening, the scent of the ocean coming up the hill with the cooling air. The steaks were perfect, juicy with just the right amount of pink in the center.
“This is incredible,” I said after the first bite.
“Mom, grilling’s way more complex than I thought,” Tyler said. “But now I know the secret.”
I raised my glass. “To a good steak on a spring evening, and to you both. This was a good day.”
“The best day,” Tyler said, clinking his milk glass against my wine glass.
“Yes, it was,” Hunter said, tapping us each in turn.
I glanced at my son, noticing something interesting in his expression.
Tyler had always been older than his age.
Kind of a seven going on thirty type of thing.
But tonight, he looked like a kid, with his hair disheveled and hanging on Hunter’s every word, a goofy grin on his face, even when he was chewing a piece of steak.
And something about that made me want to cry.
“Mom, what?” Tyler asked. “Do I have something on my face?”
“No, your face is fine. I was just thinking about when you were small and now, here you are, practically an adult.” It wasn’t at all what I was thinking about but I couldn’t possibly share my real thoughts.
“I’m going to have my license soon, and I can’t wait,” Tyler said, completely oblivious to my angst. Which is how it should be.
He was too mature. Too responsible. I couldn’t remember the last time he did anything even remotely against the rules.
He took care of me. Did his homework. Gave everything he had during baseball practice.
I’d even heard him practicing guitar before school that morning.
“We should do something fun,” I blurted out. “The three of us.”
Both turned to look at me.
“Like what?” Tyler asked.
“I’ve always wanted to go on a whale watching tour,” Hunter said.
“You have?” For some reason that surprised me.
“Mom and I went on one a long time ago. Do you remember that?”
I nodded. “Yes, we took all five of you older kids. Madison was a baby and stayed with a sitter. We saw a whale really close up. It was a magical day.”
Tyler laughed at the memory. “Grace cried, saying it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. She was always crying back then. Robbie went on this whole whale kick for like six months. He was driving us crazy with whale facts.”
“Mia brought her drawing pad and captured the moment,” I said. “She was only ten years old but she could already draw.”
“She’s an unbelievable artist,” Tyler said.
“What did Annie do when she saw the whale?” Hunter asked.
He knew Annie was the only one we hadn’t mentioned. I didn’t realize he even paid attention to the kids, but I was clearly wrong.
“Annie’s dad had died about six months before that trip,” Tyler said.