Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
HALLIE
Today, I’m finally meeting my father.
I probably should have called him when I inevitably decided to reach out, but me and phone calls are mortal enemies, so I chickened out and texted him instead. His response was almost immediate.
Hi, this is Hallie. I got your letter. I was wondering if you’d like to meet?
Kevin
Hi, Hallie. Absolutely! Tell me a time and a place. I’ll make it happen.
We settled on Dockside on Monday at three o’clock. Which is today. Soon.
I got to the restaurant early. I wanted to get a good seat.
Now I’ve been sitting so long, my butt has gone numb.
Eyes on my hands, I pick at a dried bit of nail polish on my cuticle.
I let Abbie paint my nails last night, and now they’re a pretty shade of lavender that matches my hair.
She mostly managed to keep the polish on my nails and off my skin, which is a plus.
I check the clock above the bar for the hundredth time. Kevin is going to be here any minute.
Oh, God. He’s going to be here any minute . If I wasn’t so worried about making it back in time, I’d bolt to the bathroom and empty my stomach. Instead, I force the nausea down.
Calm down, Hallie. This is fine. Everything is fine .
Except it doesn’t feel fine. It feels like I’m about to take a test on a subject I haven’t studied before.
I see a giant F in my future. Thinking about this moment for as long as I have should have prepared me, but I feel inept.
What do I even say? How do I hide the messiness of my current situation?
What do you do for work? I lost my job in the city, so now I work part-time at the local gallery because the owner took pity on me.
Where are you living? In my best friend’s brother’s spare bedroom. It’s not as bad as it sounds, except maybe it’s worse because I think I’m still in love with him .
I don’t have any significant accomplishments to show off. No accolades from a high-powered job, no house, no kids of my own. I’m just…me. And that’s never been good enough.
“Hallie,” Clara says, coming up beside me. She touches my arm. “I need to talk to you for a second.”
“I’m meeting my d—” I stop myself. Dad seems too familiar, and we’re the textbook definition of strangers. “My father will be here, like, right now. Can it wait?”
She shakes her head, then quickly glances over her shoulder. I see Carole standing by the bar and give her a wave.
“Not really,” Clara insists. “It’s kind of important.”
“I—” The sound of the door opening cuts me off. My head whips in the direction of the newcomer. It’s him . I just know it. “He’s here. I promise I’ll find you after, and you can tell me then.”
She grimaces but nods. “Good luck, babe. I’ll be behind the bar if you need me. Or a drink.”
Clara quickly takes her leave, and I stand on shaky legs. I try not to be obvious about wiping my sweaty palms on my thighs. Then I hold up a hand, gaining Kevin’s attention.
I’ve never seen any pictures of him, but somehow, he looks exactly as I expected he would.
A little older, because when I used to picture him, he was still the thirtysomething my mom recklessly jumped into bed with.
Now he’s in his early sixties, with laugh lines and greying hair, though he looks somewhat gaunt.
His health issues must have been pretty serious, then.
“Hallie?” he asks, coming closer.
I offer him a small smile. “Yes. Hi.”
We sort of just look at each other for a moment, lost for words. I wonder if he’s remembering my mother. I know I look like her. I guess I look a little like him, too, but there is certainly more of Amanda Foster in me than I’d prefer.
He lets out a bit of a chuckle, unsure. Disbelieving. “Wow. I was hoping I would have the chance to do this, and now that it’s here, I’m struggling to find my voice.”
“Do you want to…?” I gesture to the table, and he nods.
Alright, I can do this. One step at a time. It’s not that scary .
Once we’re seated, we both study each other again. I return to picking my cuticle. The clock ticks forward.
Kevin clasps his hands on top of the table. “I’m not really sure how to go about this. Where to start. Maybe you could ask me questions? Anything you want to know.”
A million different inquiries scream at me. Why did he leave? Why wasn’t I good enough? All have varying degrees of pain attached to them. I know we won’t come out of this totally unscathed, but I shift directions slightly. Not exactly easing us in, but I need to know.
“What made you change your mind?” I ask. “You said in your letter that you went through some health issues.”
He nods. Swallows visibly. “I was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer two years ago. They found it early, and my scans are clear now, no evidence of disease. But going through treatment made me realize, as cliché as it sounds, how precious life truly is. As I got better, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.
How I should have handled everything differently. ”
“Why?” I ask, voice cracking on the word.
I don’t elaborate, but he understands. “My wife, Dana, and I weren’t in a good place.
I’d like to say I simply wasn’t thinking when I decided to start up a relationship with Amanda, but that isn’t the truth.
I was looking for a way to express my discontent.
I knew what I was doing. Things between me and Amanda didn’t last long.
I broke it off, came clean to Dana. Then Amanda told me she was pregnant. ”
Guilt comes, fast and hot, because I know what happens next.
“To put it frankly, I was a coward. Dana was willing to work things out, but only if we left. If I agreed to put everything behind us. Selfishly, I didn’t want my world to change, so we moved. And I tried to forget about you.”
Hearing that stings. I tried to forget about you . Because at the end of the day, I’m inconsequential enough to be forgotten. By him, by my mother.
“When I was sick, I told your siblings about you,” he continues. “Caitlyn and Bryan. They were both, understandably, angry at me. They still are. But eventually, we came to the conclusion that I needed to reach out. So I wrote you a letter.”
My breath leaves my lungs in a whoosh. Siblings . The closest I’ve had to that is watching the Bowmans as we grew up. Deep down, I longed for an older brother like Luke, a sister like Clara.
“This is…a lot to take in,” I say.
Kevin’s expression softens. “I know. I’m sorry. We can leave it there for today, if you’d like.”
I hardly have time to mull over his words before a riot of colour and chaos descends on us. “Hallie!” Carole exclaims as she steps up to the table. “I hear congratulations are in order.”
My brows furrow as I look up at her. “Congratulations?”
I glance over at Kevin, as if he might have some insight, but he’s only looking at her curiously. Of course he wouldn’t know—he hasn’t lived on the island in close to thirty years.
“Yes!” Carole shoves my shoulder good-naturedly. “You thought you could go and get engaged to one of those darling Bowman boys without me finding out?”
I choke on air. “What?” My gaze slides to Kevin. “I, uh?—”
“You’re engaged?” he asks. His eyes are shining with what I can only describe as joy.
No! I want to shout. But the word gets lodged in my throat.
Carole nods, utterly oblivious to my internal freak-out. “Miss Abigail let the news slip to her teacher yesterday, and you know Melinda and I are yoga buddies. She mentioned it during our sunrise session this morning. Gosh, I’m so glad I ran into you! I bet Maggie is simply over the moon.”
Words. I need words. Any of them, really.
“Who is Abigail?” Kevin asks.
Bad . This is bad.
“Gabriel’s daughter,” Carole replies.
“And who is Gabriel?”
She flings a hand in my direction. “Hallie’s new fiancé.”
This is so bad.
Carole looks down at her wrist, where a multicoloured watch rests. “Oh, would you look at the time. I’ve gotta run. Best wishes to you and Gabe, dear. I’ll see you at the gallery tomorrow afternoon!”
Carole sweeps out of the restaurant with a flourish, none the wiser to my struggles.
I turn to Clara at the bar. Based on the expression she wears, she heard everything Carole said. My stomach swims. That’s what she wanted to talk about. She wanted to warn me.
Kevin clears his throat, pulling my attention back to him.
“I apologize if you didn’t want me to know about your engagement,” he says.
At least someone can read the discomfort on my face, although it’s not for the reason he thinks.
“But I… Well, I’m glad that I know. I’m serious about doing this right, Hallie.
I’d love to get to know you. And your fiancé. If you’ll give me the chance.”
Do it now. Tell him the truth .
Instead, I smile shakily. “I’d really like that.”
I pace the length of the living room as I wait for Gabe to get home from work. I messaged him to ask where he was, and he said he was on his way, but that feels like hours ago now.
The pit in my stomach grows steadily bigger.
Finally, the front door opens. I all but sprint into the hall, catching Gabe off guard. He eyes me warily as he removes his boots.
“We need to talk.”
“Are you breaking up with me?” he jokes, but it falls flat when I don’t smile. My stomach is too twisted up to do that. “Alright, we can talk. Can I shower first?”
I shake my head. “Talk first.”
I’ve been rehearsing what I’m going to say all afternoon. If I don’t get it out now, I fear I never will. Then I’ll have to think of some other way to get myself out of this mess. This big, messy mess.
Gabe follows me into the living room and sits on the couch. I resume my post in front of the coffee table. I don’t pace this time, though. Instead, I cross my arms over my chest, only to uncross them a second later.
What am I supposed to do with my hands?
Gabe leans forward, bracing his elbows on his thighs. I try to ignore how hot he looks in that position. “Alright, Foster. What’s up? You’re starting to worry me.”
“It’s nothing…bad.” Or is it? It’s arguably not good . “I suppose you haven’t heard who the gossip mill’s latest victims are?”
He raises a brow. “No. Who is it?”
“Us.”
“ Us ?” He points between us. “You and me?”
“Yes, Gabriel. It turns out your daughter said something to her teacher that has been making the rounds.”
He sits upright at that. “What did she say?”
I sigh. “For some reason, she told her teacher that we’re going to get married.”
“You’re sure she said us? Not Larissa and Chris?”
Shrugging, I say, “Carole was pretty convinced. She does yoga with Abbie’s teacher, so she was all too thrilled to learn about this and then run into me at Dockside.”
Gabe runs a hand down his face as he leans back against the couch cushions. “I’m sorry. She probably got confused because her mom and Chris are moving in together, too. I’ll talk to her. And Carole. She can undo whatever damage she’s done in the past twelve hours.”
I bite my lip as I look down at my feet. “About that…” Inhaling a deep breath, I meet his gaze. “My father was there when Carole dropped the bomb.”
He grimaces. “ Shit . At least you could have a good laugh. Break the ice.”
“Um, yeah, we would have. If I had told him it was a mistake.”
Gabe’s eyebrows shoot halfway up to his hairline. “You didn’t tell him? Why?”
“Because I froze,” I admit. Saying it out loud sounds even more pathetic than I already knew it was. “You should’ve seen his face, Gabe! He looked so hopeful, like he hit the do-over jackpot. Getting to know me in time for me to get married? He was so happy.”
“Hallie, I’m sure he’ll understand,” Gabe says. “Hell, he doesn’t have a right to be mad about anything when it concerns you.”
“But what if I didn’t?” I whisper. “What if we just…pretend?”
He shoots out of his seat then, looking at me like I have ten heads. It would explain my wooziness—too many heads, not enough blood.
“You want me to pretend to be your fiancé?”
The expression on his face makes my stomach twist again. He looks pained, like the very thought of being engaged to me is too much to bear. That stings, but I swallow the hurt.
“Would that be so bad?” I ask. “Being with me.” My voice comes out quiet, and despite my effort, some of that hurt seeps through.
It’s not a fair question to ask him. It’s not, and I know it.
His eyes soften. “I don’t mean it like that. I—” He runs a hand through his hair, mussing up the dark strands. The tattoos on his arm shift with the movement. “ Fuck . I want to help you, I do, but I’m not sure this is the answer.”
The first tear falls without my permission.
I’ve been crying too much lately. I don’t want to cry.
But I build situations up in my head, picturing the worst, and then when they’re over, my anxiety all rushes out in the form of tears.
Like my body doesn’t know any other way to rid itself of the toxicity.
I sobbed on the way home from my first driving test. Same with my first university exam. And now here I am, crying over the meeting with my father.
Gabe doesn’t hesitate to gather me in his arms. “Hallie, baby, why are you crying?”
I shake my head, swiping at my wet cheek. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to. It’s just been an…overwhelming day. And—” I take a deep breath, trying to stop my tears. “I want him to love me, Gabe. I want him to accept me.”
“You don’t think he will, just as you are?”
No, I don’t . He didn’t before .
I swallow as I close my eyes. I hide my face against his chest when I admit, “I’m feeling a little unmoored right now, and I want to put my best foot forward. I don’t want to come off as aimless. Having a successful relationship would at least give me something to show for myself.”
Even if it was all smoke and mirrors.
Gabe sighs, his chin resting on top of my head. He pulls back, looking down at me. “Are you sure about this?”
I nod, catching the last tear as it cascades down my cheek. “I am.”
“Then I’ll do it.”
“Really?”
He offers me a small smile. “Yeah, Foster. Just tell me where and when, and I’ll be there.”
“Thank you.” I clutch his arms, giving them a grateful squeeze. “I promise it won’t be forever. Just until I can find my footing with Kevin and his family. Then I’ll stage a breakup, and you’ll be off the hook.”
He takes my chin in his hand, tilting it up. “Just promise you’ll go easy on my heart,” he says. My breath hitches. “You know, when you stage that breakup.”
“Yeah, of course.” I smile shakily. “It just didn’t work out. We’ve always been better off as friends.”
He takes a step back, clearing his throat, and his hand falls away. “Friends. Right.”
Friends. The safest thing we can be.
The only thing we can be.