22. Ward
22
Ward
“O kay. I’m going to ask the question that, apparently, no one else is. What do you have in SoCal that you can’t have here? Your girlfriend dumped you for your business partner.” Alex made a disgusted face. “That’s the lowest of the low, my friend.”
“Thanks for pointing that out.”
“No problem,” Alex shot back. “I just don’t think you really get how big a deal that is. Why would you want to go back to that? How are you going to hold your head up in front of your crew?”
“Back off, Alex,” Ward growled at his friend. It was Friday night, and for reasons of their own, neither of them had anyone else to spend it with. They were sitting at a table at the Old Mill where they’d both ordered the fried chicken plate for dinner, and now were finishing off the meal with apple pie and coffee.
Alex didn’t back off. No surprise there. “I just don’t get it. There’s an amazing little lady right here in Autumn Lake who looks at you like she wants to take a bite out of you.”
“Nice,” Ward muttered, shaking his head in disgust. But… he couldn’t help remembering the way she’d looked up at him, how the expression on her face had made his knees go weak. The way she felt in his arms, how her body had curved into his. Her mouth, the sounds she made while he kissed her… before Rochelle had dropped into things like an atom bomb.
“It’s true.” Alex took an enormous bite of the second slice of apple pie he’d ordered.
“She’s not from here, remember? She’s a summer laker. A WOOT.” Wow. Why? Why had he tossed that in there? How was that any better than the way Johnny had talked about Rochelle? Why did people say stupid things—hurtful things—about other people just to make themselves look or feel better? Especially since it didn’t work. The look on Alex’s face told him his friend was wondering something similar. “Okay. She’s not a WOOT,” he admitted. “But she’s not a townie, either.”
“She comes here every summer, Ward. She’s more of a townie than you are, my friend.” Alex scratched at the stubble on his jaw. “But it’s not just our Shiny Penny.”
It didn’t escape Ward’s notice that Alex had casually claimed Penny as one of their own. Our shiny Penny? Did that ‘our’ include him? Alex was right; she’d come to the lake every summer for almost a decade, according to her, for at least two months out of the year. He’d been back a few days a year, at the most.
Alex shoved his now empty pie plate toward the middle of the table. “You’ve got a business out there that’s apparently running fine without you, right? I mean, you’ve been away for what? Nine months? Ten now? Are you sure they want you back?”
“Shut up, Alex.”
“I’m serious, dude. Think about it. You’ve got two—count ‘em.” He held up two fingers, then pointed them at Ward. “Two great businesses here in Autumn Lake who want you. In fact, they both need you.”
Ward just shook his head, wishing he’d gone home with his father.
“And your folks are here.”
“Believe me, I know that. I know all of this.” Ward swallowed down the rest of his coffee and grimaced. It was cold and muddy, and he regretted that he hadn’t saved one last bite of his pie to wash down the nasty taste of the coffee. “But you forget that I have a life somewhere else—”
“No, bro.” Alex cut him off, leaning forward even more in his vehemence. “I’m not the one who seems to be forgetting things. You may have a life out there.” He made air quotes around the word ‘life.’ “But this place? Autumn Lake? This, my dude, is where you really live. This is home. You’ll always come back.” He reached across the table and thumped Ward in the chest with a fist. “This place is in here. Your folks are here.” He thumped him again. “Your friends are here.” And once more. “That little lady should be here.”
“I got it,” Ward said, shoving Alex’s fist away. “Back off.”
Alex guffawed. “You’re just mad because you know I’m right.”
“T his may not be the right place for this,” Ward began, looking back and forth between his parents at the supper table the following night. “But there are some things we need to talk about.” He’d surprised them both when he told them he’d not only be home for the meal, but that he’d bring dessert. He’d stopped by Juniper’s and grabbed a box of pastries on his way.
Fortunately, Juno had not been there. She knew him well enough to recognize that something was wrong; he’d seen it in the way she’d watched him from the other end of the counter when he’d come in on Thursday and ordered his meal to go. He figured Penny had probably given all her girls the scoop on things, and he didn’t want to hear from the outspoken woman. Ward was sure Juno had more than a few opinions on the situation; she’d always had issues with Rochelle.
“What is it?” his mother asked, putting a hand on his arm. “You know you can talk to us anytime, anywhere.”
His father cleared his throat. “Does this have anything to do with that job offer from the resort?”
Ward balked. “You know about that?”
Ted nodded slowly. He picked up his fork, then set it down again. “I do.” Rachel reached for him with her free hand. She’d always been that connecting force in their home, Ward thought, looking at her sitting there with a loving hand on each of her guys.
“We do,” Rachel said. “It’s a small town, sweetie.”
Ted picked up his fork again. This time, he wiped it clean with his napkin before setting it back down on his dirty plate. “Actually, I have something I need to talk to you about, too.”
Ward sat back in his seat, subconsciously pulling away from them. His arm slipped out from under his mother’s hand, but she left it there on the table. Ready, he supposed, for when he decided to come close again.
“And I think I should start. Maybe it will help you sort out what you have to say,” his father added. To Rachel, he said, “Would you like to move into the living room where it’s more comfortable?”
“Oh no, honey.” His mother smiled and patted Ted’s arm. “I’m just fine. Let’s not put this off a moment longer. I think this conversation is long overdue as it is.”
Ward studied her face, her posture, just like his father was doing, but she seemed fine.
“Son, I need to apologize to you. I’ve been meaning to for some time, but I’ve been struggling to figure out what to say. How to say it.”
Ward waited, feeling completely in the dark. What did his parents have to apologize to him for? Wasn’t it the other way around?
“I’m the reason Lysha Austin offered you that job.” He cleared his throat again. “Well, you’re the reason she offered you the job, but I’m the one who told her about you. I recommended you for the position.”
Ward had no words. This was the last thing—the very last thing—he’d expected his father to say.
“She came to me, to us, with the proposal first,” Ted said, dipping his head toward Rachel to include her. “The offer she made me isn’t the same as the one she made you, but it was still good enough for me to feel compelled to consider it. She didn’t want to hire me. She wanted to contract with me to do the resort’s boat repair, which would have been quite a coup for us, but the contract would have made resort repairs priority over my other customers.”
Rachel nodded. “That was kind of a deal-breaker for us,” she said softly.
Ward was trying to keep up. “A contract, but not a job offer?”
“Yes. She rightfully guessed that I wouldn’t even consider working for them if it meant giving up St. James Mobile Boat Repair.” Even after all these years, Ted still spoke the name of his company with a note of pride in his voice. “But everything about that contract was solid, Ward. She wasn’t trying to pull one over on us. What they were offering me was a substantial increase in my income and a retirement plan I could buy into.”
“Which is something we’ve always worried we didn’t have enough of,” Rachel interjected.
“Yes. There were other perks, too, such as access to the resort and the guest-only services over there, but none of that really mattered to us.”
“But in the end, it would have meant potentially sacrificing the welfare of our loyal customers for money.”
“Which we weren’t willing to do,” Ted said, finishing the sentence for his wife.
“I had no idea,” Ward finally managed to say. “And I’m at a loss. That’s definitely not the job she offered me. In fact, she made it very clear that I couldn’t do both. I would be employed by the resort, and I could not help out here because it would be a conflict of interest, or so she said.”
His father nodded. “Right. I can see why that might be the direction she chose to go in.”
“And what part did you have in all of that?” Ward was still trying to wrap his head around the idea of Lysha approaching his father about the job first. Had he misjudged her all this time? Had he really been so blinded by his own self-importance, his own vanity, to think she’d come to him because she wanted him for more than just work? Had he judged her because she was a WOOT?
“I suggested that she approach you with the job.”
Ward grimaced. “I already have a job, Dad. In fact, I don’t just have a job. I have a business that provides a dozen people with jobs.”
“I know,” Ted said. “I know that. And that’s what I’m apologizing for. I should have come to you, Ward. I should have asked you if you’d be interested in even considering the position before I threw your name in the hat.”
“You’re not getting it, Dad. It’s not about whether I’m interested in the job or not.”
Ted frowned, his expression mirrored on Rachel’s face. “Then what is it? I want to know, Ward. I want to do this right.”
Ward shook his head in frustration. “When was the last time you came to California to check out my life? My business, Dad?”
“Well,” Ted began. He turned to look at Rachel, then back at Ward.
“Exactly. Never. You two have never come to California to see what I’ve accomplished. In almost twelve years, Dad. I moved out there more than a decade ago, and I have always been the one to come visit you. Not the other way around. Why is that?”
His parents eyed each other again, but when neither of them spoke immediately, Ward continued.
“Do you know why I left Autumn Lake?”
“We do, Ward,” his mother said, her fingers fluttering on the tabletop as though she wanted nothing more than to reach for him. “You needed to find your way out from under us. We understood that. We still do.”
“Do you know why I stayed away?”
“What would you like to hear from us?” Ted asked, his brow furrowing. “I feel a little like you’re baiting us. We have always only wanted for you to be happy, Ward. Correct me if I’m wrong, but we have always believed that you stayed in California because you were happy there. You liked your life there. Is that not so?”
“If you thought I was happy there, if that was the one thing you wanted for me, then why didn’t you ever come see for yourself? You just—” He broke off, bombarded by the emotions that were rising to the surface inside of him. “You just—”
“We just believed you, Ward,” his mother said, her voice gentle, but sad. “And you never invited us.”
Ward stared at her, the words hanging in the air between them like a roiling storm cloud. He’d never invited them? Never? But he had. Surely, he had.
“You made it clear that you wanted a life of your own,” Ted said. “We didn’t want to intrude or assume that we had any part of that. You continued to come home to see us, and you seemed satisfied with that, so we decided that we needed to be okay with that, too.”
“I invited you,” Ward countered. “I asked you to come out for my opening ceremonies.”
“I had surgery that week, remember?” Rachel’s hand slipped under the table, and Ward knew she was resting it on her abdomen. She’d struggled with endometriosis her whole adult life, and her pregnancy with Ward had been a miracle. That was why he was an only child; it wasn’t because his parents hadn’t wanted more.
He’d forgotten how sick she’d been that whole month, how she’d ended up in the emergency room in pain so acute, they’d hospitalized her. Ward hadn’t come home. They’d assured him she was being well cared for, and that they understood that he needed to be there for his business. She’d had a full abdominal hysterectomy soon after.
“I—I’m sorry. I forgot.” Ward’s face burned with shame. “That wasn’t the only time, though,” he insisted, racking his brain for specifics. “I invited you for Christmas at least a few times. I know that.”
Rachel smiled and nodded. “I suppose you’re right. I think we were just afraid of being in the way. And we never wanted to get in the way of your happiness.”
He wanted to snap at her, to tell her that, of course, he was right. But his memories sifted and sorted and shook out until he remembered more clearly what his ‘invitation’ had consisted of. “I can’t come home this year, Mom. I’ve got too much going on. But you’re welcome to come this way if you want. I’ll be pretty busy, but there are plenty of things you can do to keep yourselves entertained around here.” He wouldn’t have considered it an invitation, either.
“We should have come,” Ted stated, sitting straighter in his chair. “You’re right, Ward. We should have come. I’m sorry we never did. We’ll have to change that this year, right, honey?” He looked at Rachel for confirmation.
“Absolutely,” she agreed.
Ward sighed, feeling more and more like a spoiled, resentful child, and he didn’t like it one bit. “I’d like that,” he finally said. “I should have told you that I wanted you there. I’m sorry if I never did.”
“We love you, Ward. All is forgiven.” His mother lifted a questioning gaze to his. “Was there more you needed to tell us? To say to us?”
Ward nodded slowly, wondering if perhaps he was completely off the mark with the rest of his assumptions. There was only one way to find out. Communication, as his father had said that day that Ward had walked in on him watching his Hallmark movie. People need to communicate more.
“I feel like you think my life, the life I’ve worked so hard to build out there, is expendable. That I can just walk away from it all without blinking an eye. Recommending me for that job, Dad? If that doesn’t make me feel like you think so little of what I’ve accomplished, I don’t know what does.”
“We have never thought little of what you’ve done, Ward,” his father countered. “That’s why I thought you’d be such a good fit for the job. At least one of the reasons why. I know how you jump in with both feet and stick to your guns, come hell or high water. I know that whatever you put your mind to, you see it through. I know you’re here right now, here with us, when you would like nothing more than to be on the other side of the continent, doing your own thing. That you’re here because you’re going to see us through this difficult time. It’s who you are.”
“We would never have asked you for so much, Ward,” his mother chimed in. “You have given above and beyond anything we could have dreamed you’d do for us this past year. We thought—we were hoping,” she amended. “That you were beginning to enjoy being back here. You seemed to settle back in with your friends so quickly. People around here love you so much, Ward.” She made a tsking sound and batted her hand in front of her like she was trying to knock her words out of the air. “That sounds like pressure from me, and that’s not my intent. We just thought that maybe, just maybe, if you saw there were options here….” Her voice trailed off, and Ward saw color bloom on her cheeks.
“We thought if you had good options to consider here, if you knew you could move back without getting stuck trying to salvage my floundering business—which you’ve somehow managed to do, anyway.” Ted smiled gratefully at him. “If you had a good job offer waiting for you here, we hoped that coming home might be something you’d want to reconsider.”
As careful as they were being, Ward could hear the agony of waning hope in their voices. It just about broke his heart.
“Forgive us, Ward,” his mother said. “We love you, and we’re so proud of you. No matter where you call home.”
“I feel—” He broke off, his own words catching him by surprise. “I feel,” he repeated under his breath. “Me. I. I feel.” His words faded to a whisper, and his eyes drifted shut. Somehow, without him realizing it, everything in his life had become about how he felt. Not about how his parents felt, and certainly not about the way he made them feel.
He hadn’t wanted Rochelle to leave him, not because he still loved her, but because he didn’t like the feeling of being rejected.
He certainly didn’t want Johnny and Rochelle hooking up, even if it made them feel happy. It made him feel cuckolded.
And then there was Penny. He was angry at her for what she felt about his relationship with Rochelle. He wanted her to set aside those feelings and accept what he said as truth, even when the evidence was stacked against him.
For years, now, he’d been drifting around on his little storm cloud of his feelings, all the while dumping deluges on the people around him without even considering how they felt.
“What about your business, Dad? What would happen to it if I took that job? And how would you feel, knowing I’d chosen it over St. James Mobile Boat Repair?”
“Listen,” Ted began, his face growing serious. “I want to be transparent with you. I would love nothing more than to pass it down to you, but only if you want it. I would never want it to be a burden to you. If you think you’ll take it over one day, then I’ll do my best to hang onto it until you’re ready. But if you’re not interested in it, if it’s not an option you’d ever consider, just tell me. Please, just tell me.” He glanced at his wife, who was nodding right along with him. “After last year’s scare with your mother, I realized on a whole new level how precious you both are to me. I don’t want to miss out because I’m holding onto something I don’t need.”
“I’m fine, Ward,” Rachel said, smiling over at him. She must have seen the flash of fear in his eyes when his father spoke about her illness. “I’m healthy and whole.”
His father continued. “But if you don’t want it, I’m going to sell and retire early. There have been offers over the years, and I’ve kept them in the back of my mind, just in case.” He tapped his right temple.
This was not at all how Ward had seen this conversation going, and yet here they were, having gone the circuitous route to end up with all his questions answered.
“I have something for you,” Ted said, getting to his feet and crossing the kitchen to the refrigerator. He took a large envelope down from the top of it and returned to the table with it. “This is for you,” he said, sliding it toward Ward.
It was the same envelope Lysha had tried to give him almost a month ago now. This time, he drew it toward him, opened the flap, and pulled the stack of papers out.
“Why don’t you spend some time looking that over.” He looked Ward square in the eye, and said, “Would you do that for me?”
His father rarely asked him for anything.
He could do this for him.
An hour later, Ward made his way down the hall to his parents’ room. Their door stood open, and he realized they’d left it that way so that he’d feel free to come talk to them if he needed to.
He tapped on the door frame to let them know he was there. His mother was already in bed, sitting up against the headboard, a novel in her hand. “Come in, Ward.”
His father stepped out of the adjoining bathroom, his toothbrush in one hand, a tube of toothpaste in the other. “Come in,” he echoed.
“Hey, Dad. Do you have a copy of the contract Lysha offered you?”
Ted ducked back into the bathroom and emerged a moment later, drying his hands on a towel. “I do. In fact, I have it right here.” He crossed to his bedside table and pulled open the drawer in it. He pulled out an envelope just like the one Ward’s proposal had come in. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
Ward smiled and took the packet his father held out to him. “I’ve been doing a little thinking. A lot of praying—”
“So have we,” his mother interjected.
“And a bit of… well, devising. I’ve come up with another option.”
“Show us,” his father said, turning to offer his wife a hand. She was already pushing back the covers and getting to her feet.
W ard stepped out onto the front porch and made his way to his favorite chair. The lights across the water drew his attention, and this time as he studied them, he wondered if he’d be able to see the lights of his parents’ house, of Hazel’s house, from over there.
He glanced over at the guesthouse, hoping to see a light on in the upstairs bedroom, but the second-floor windows were all dark.
What would Penny think of his plan? Would she approve? Would she be happy for him?
He pressed the heel of his hand over his heart the way he must have done a hundred or more times since she’d asked him to leave. He was sure if he looked in the mirror, he’d find an ugly bruise there.
He pulled his phone from his pocket, tapped in three small words, and pushed send before he could change his mind.
Then he dialed Johnny’s number. When his business partner answered, Ward said, “I have a proposal for you.”