Chapter 15
Harbor
I don’t recognize who I am when I’m with Lark, but for some fucking reason, I don’t mind the difference.
She’s as innocent as can be, but she smarts back, like at the gas station when we first met and last night when she tried to convince me to fuck her.
It’s good that she has bite and speaks her mind. She’ll have no problem handling when my inner asshole shines through after walking a straight fucking line all day in order to appease everyone around me.
My current mood is courtesy of her having prior plans with her dad and me getting a text from Marina guilting me into coming to the house for dinner.
I shift the car into park and cut the engine, sitting, and staring at the house through the windshield.
I unlatch my seat belt and pop the door open.
With one foot planted on the ground, the other stays firmly inside the vehicle.
My hesitation to attend this dinner comes from months of building my tolerance for avoidance.
It was better not to see too much of my family than for them to see the pain I was going through.
I wasn’t going to add to the devastation of what happened.
I’ve mastered the character flaw of avoidance, but I always was a fast learner.
The door opens and Marina steps out, looking right at me. Standing there on the brick landing, she leans against the railing. She shakes her head but then smiles and waves me in.
After a great night with Lark, I’m not in the mood to disappoint anyone today, especially not my sister. The way she viewed me never changed. That’s the bliss of youth. The dirty details are left out of the conversation when a story is explained.
“Come on, Har. I want to show you something.”
I get out and make my way up the steps. “I’m coming. I’m coming,” I reply, sounding a lot like an old man. Closing the door behind me, I follow her into the kitchen.
“Hey, Mom.” I come around the island just as she turns around.
“Harbor.” Her arms go out to bring me into a hug. “I’m so happy to see you.”
She holds me tight, and for a minute, I’m reminded how she always made me feel loved. If I wouldn’t have lied to protect Lucas’s memory, I know I wouldn’t have left home. But I had to because Mom would have seen right through me. Now I only grant her glimpses. “Happy to see you, too.”
She leans back and takes a good look at me.
“You look tired but happy.” My mom notices every little detail about her family.
If I let her look closer, she might even see Lark hanging around my thoughts tonight.
“Oh, to be young. I just look tired these days.” She laughs as she stirs what looks like a soup on the stove.
“You look beautiful, as always,” I say, knowing she’ll never believe me as if it’s my job to tell her what she wants to hear since I’m her kid.
But it’s the truth—my mother is the embodiment of grace and class.
Plus, she’s basically a saint for dealing with us four kids.
I’m quickly waved off, exactly as expected.
“Something to drink?”
“I can get it when I’m thirsty.” I know she tries to make me feel at home when I’m here, but it feels strange to fall back into the kid role after living on my own for the past couple of years. I don’t have anyone offering me anything in my apartment, so I’m not used to being catered to anymore.
I take a seat on the other side of the island next to Marina. Her laptop is open, and a page from Beacon University is loaded. I ask, “What is it that you wanted to show me, kiddo?” I like to remind her she’ll always be my baby sister.
She rolls her eyes from the moniker. “I’m not a kiddo anymore, Harbor.”
I chuckle from the staunch stand she takes. “Noted.”
Tugging me by the shirtsleeve, she says, “Pay attention. Remember the girl from the gas station that you tried to pick up?”
“What girl from the gas station?” my mom asks, angling to look back at us.
“What gas station has chicks hot enough to pick up?” Noah asks, joining in the conversation. I look behind me as he crosses the family room and comes to stand behind Marina to look over her shoulder.
Fuck me.
I knew Marina being in the car that day would bite me in the ass.
The back door opens, and Loch steps inside to our silence. He stops, his eyes darting to each of us before then closes the door. “What’s going on?”
Noah replies, “Harbor picked up some chick at a gas station but won’t do us a solid by telling us where the hot girls pump their gas.”
Opening the fridge, my mom says, “Don’t call women chicks. It’s disrespectful.”
Loch’s eyes are still pivoting between us as if that will give him a clue as to what the hell we’re talking about.
I lower my head while shaking it. “This conversation is bordering on ridiculous.”
“I think we crossed that border,” Noah starts, drawing our attention to him. “When my brother decided to refuse his own blood the opportunity to meet hot chicks.” He glances at Mom. “I mean girls.”
Keeping her eyes on the large pot on the stovetop, she replies, “Better.” Loch or I would have gotten the “Mom glare.” Noah, the baby of the brothers, gets a gentle correction. Little fucker. Well, not so little anymore, but he’s still a fucker.
Loch keeps walking. “I don’t even want to be a part of this. I’m heading to Dad’s office.”
My mom looks up, and says, “Tell him dinner is in ten minutes.”
“Will do,” Loch replies, the words trailing around the corner with him.
Marina pounds the counter with a balled fist. Just one time, but it gets everyone’s attention.
I chuckle because she’s feisty. It’s a good quality for her to have, especially considering all the assholes she’ll have to deal with in life.
She says, “Can we get back to this, please?” Sitting up straighter, proud of her project, she looks at me. “I found her.”
The grin is wiped clean from my face as I whip my gaze to the laptop. “What?”
Proud is an understatement for how Marina beams at me. She repeats, “I found the girl from the gas station.” This time, it sounds a lot more like a question than a statement. Tapping the screen, she leans in closer to see the picture. “Right here. Lark Summerlin. Senior. I found her for you.”
“What do you mean for me?” I ask, feeling the heat of not only Marina but also my mother’s and Noah’s eyes on me.
“You seemed to be really into her from what I witnessed, so I thought I would do some matchmaking.”
“What do you mean by matchmaking?”
The soup is forgotten when my mom comes around the island to see the photo on the screen. Since the laptop is smaller, they all lean in closer while I plan my escape route.
Mom smiles at me and then turns her attention back to the webpage. “She’s one of our scholarship recipients.” Her hands clasp together against her chest. “This is exciting, Harbor. She must be a stellar student to receive a full ride like she did.”
Not that I believe they’ve done anything intentionally malicious, but I stand, uncomfortable about this topic of conversation without Lark being here. I don’t think it’s right to be discussing her finances behind her back.
She grew up on the skirts of downtown and works her ass off at her job. It’s not difficult to piece together that she doesn’t come from money.
Leaning in again, my mom squints her eyes at the screen.
“Lark . . .” She stands up and returns to the stove to turn it off.
“She was the lovely girl from Larry’s catering company.
” Humming cheerfully as she stirs the pot, she stops, and adds, “That’s why I love supporting the scholarship organization.
It’s good to know the fundraising is helping. You met her at a gas station, Harbor?”
“I did.” I hate this attention, not sure if Lark and I are ready to share our new relationship with the world.
Or even family. Glancing at her poised photo on the screen, I can’t help but admire her again, but now I know that her beauty is inside and out.
“You know, we can talk about other stuff like the game that was on or how nice the weather is this fall.”
Noah hits my arm and laughs. “Nah, we’re good. Tell us more, Harb.” I hate when he calls me that. He does it purposely to annoy me, and it’s working. But it also has me wondering if she’s telling her dad about us.
After spending the morning together, Lark went to the library to study.
I went home, but I probably should have studied like she did.
I watched football and ordered a pizza instead.
It was the third quarter when Mom texted me asking to come for dinner.
The text I usually say no to most of the time came as an opening, an invitation, but I was ready to accept.
From what it sounds like, Lark is close to her dad. If she had been free tonight, would I have said yes to my own family?
They’ve given me everything I could ever need—love, emotional support, independence when I needed it, financial backing, and most importantly, forgiveness. So why do I still keep them at a distance?
Even when I wrecked an $87,000 car, they forgave me.
No lecture. In fact, they gave me a Maserati as a replacement.
I make the payments, but they signed the loan papers.
If I wasn’t so fucked up about the accident, maybe I wouldn’t be so fucking ungrateful.
I just don’t know how to find my way out of this misery.
Whether thinking of her or seeing Lark on the screen, it feels good like there’s light at the end of the tunnel. I’m starting to believe she’s the one who can turn things around for me.
I don’t want to just take from her, though. What value can I bring to her?
Getting caught in a spiral never ends well. I need to stop holding everything in. Focus on the day, the hour. The time with my family.
The here.
The now.
“I’m dating Lark Summerlin.”
Everyone stops.
What the fuck am I doing?
I just stand there like Romeo, who just confessed their love for Juliet and not one person is going to rescue me from this tragedy.
I grin, thinking about how amusing this would be to my girlfriend.
What would Lark do? She’d lean right into this romance, just like in the movies. “She’s my girlfriend.”
I don’t know what’s happening. I guess I expected a different reaction. Their silence is starting to unnerve me.
“You should invite her over sometime. We’d love to meet her.”
I turn around to the sound of my dad. He and Loch come toward the kitchen.
Mom’s quick. “I don’t think your dad met Lark at the fundraiser.” I glance over my shoulder as she says, “We could meet at a restaurant if you don’t want to intimidate her with a crowd.”
“Mom.” Marina hops off the barstool. “I should be there since I was there when they met.”
“You weren’t there, Marina,” I correct. “You were in the car.”
“But it’s only because of me that you met her. If I hadn’t wanted something to drink—”
“We have a class together, so the odds were already in our favor.”
“You do?” my mom asks, dinner entirely forgotten due to my love life announcement. Luckily, I had pizza earlier. “Is she pre-med?”
Dad moves around us and looks in the pot on the stove. “We’re having more than soup, I hope. I’m hungry.”
“If you’re that hungry,” Mom says with a laugh, but the humor isn’t quite reaching her eyes. “You should have come in here and helped to make dinner. You get caught up in work and forget you have a life. That needs to change, Port.”
“You’re right.” Coming behind her, he dips to kiss her cheek. “But I’m really good at ordering.” He pulls her hair behind her shoulder and kisses her neck.
“Ew.” Marina is the most vocal as we all fake vomit at the sight of my dad making the moves on Mom. Doesn’t matter how old we get, that’s just not something we should be subjected to. Though, as I’ve gotten older, I appreciate the playful side to their love story.
Laughing, they put space, and then an island, between them. My mom says, “I’m grilling steaks. Soup is just the appetizer because I love soup.”
The family disbands—everyone falling into their old jobs from when we were little. Marina oversees the distribution of napkins, Noah grabs plates, Loch walks out to help Dad with the grill, and I pull the silverware from the drawer. Mom pours a glass of wine.
I don’t know why it took me so long to find my way back “into the fold” as Mom calls it. Being here and being with them is good for the soul.
The teasing about my dating life ended after the first course. Although I’m ready to see my girl by the time dessert rolls around, the goodbyes are a little harder tonight with my family.
I carry that feeling with me, the one that adds to a great weekend that started with a girl I met at a gas station. Chuckling, I turn on music to pass the time until I’m back in her neighborhood.
Amanda tells me she’s at her dad’s place and gives me the address with some valuable insight. “Her dad lives for three things in life, in this order. His daughter. Pro sports. And cars.”
That’s some irony right there.
Seems to me that John Summerlin and I have quite a lot in common.
I drive over and park out front. It’s tempting to try the Jake Ryan move on her again, but I have a feeling her dad won’t be as entertained. I knock on the door and then step back, letting the screen door close again.
The door swings open, and her dad answers.
No smile.
No greeting.
Nothing but a question. “So you’re the boyfriend?”