Yet, sitting here even now, I don’t know which one it is I accomplished. Reclining farther back into the chair with my mug of coffee, I hear the sound of footsteps coming my way. I watch her walk into the kitchen, wearing a pair of low heel brown boots, dark wide leg slacks, and a cream, almost-white sweater with a thick, colorful scarf wrapped around her neck. Her hair is up in a tight bun, and her face is almost completely free of makeup. “That was fast.”
“It never really takes me long to get ready,” she replies, and her cheeks pinken as she looks away from me toward the coffee pot. “Do I have time to make something to eat?” she asks.
“Yeah. We’re just going to the lodge. It’s only ten minutes from here.”
“The lodge?” she asks, taking a loaf of bread out of the cupboard. I keep forgetting she’s been gone and doesn’t even know how much things have changed since she left.
“The old cannery at the end of the road. A man named Stan Wince bought it about seven years ago and built a lodge on the property. They have a conference room they allow her to use when she’s in town meeting with clients.”
Her head turns my way and tips to the side, as she asks, “The ghost cannery?”
“Yep.”
“Wow.” Her eyes widen. “I wonder if the guests at the lodge know they’re sleeping right next to a burial site.”
“Not sure Stan puts that in his brochures, babe.”
I smile, and she mutters back, “That’s probably smart. That place was creepy.” She shivers, and I fight back a chuckle.
When we were kids, we used to go out there at night for that exact reason. The place was creepy. The buildings were mostly empty, except for beds, some personal items, and documents left behind. The story goes that back in the late 1800s, the Filipino workers who came in by boat to work the cannery got the plague, and even though each of them signed a contract stating that upon their death, their bodies would be sent home, there were so many of them who died that the company decided the best course of action was to put the bodies in wooden barrels and bury them back behind the bunkhouse where they lived. To this day, the natives still say the area is haunted by the men who were lied to and kept from their families.
“Do you want some?” She holds up a slice of bread, bringing me out of my thoughts, and I shake my head.
“I’m good, baby.”
Nodding, she turns away from me and puts the slice of bread in the toaster then goes about fixing herself a cup of coffee in a travel mug covered in pink roses.
“How much does your lawyer charge?” she asks, stirring milk into the cup after spooning in three scoops of sugar.
“She works case-by-case. If she has time to take you on, she’ll work with you on payments.”
“I have some money saved up, just not a lot right now,” she says softly, coming over to where I’m sitting. She absently takes the cup of coffee I made myself back to the counter and pulls down another travel mug, one that matches hers but is covered in small while flowers with a bright yellow lid, and then pours my coffee into it. She finishes by topping it off with some coffee from the pot.
“Just talk to her and go from there,” I suggest.
“I will.” She gives me a small smile, handing me the cup. “I don’t have any boy ones. Sorry.” She shrugs, and I lift my chin, taking the cup from her before she moves back toward the toaster. “How’s Aubrey?”
“Pardon?” I question, watching her pull down a jar of peanut butter from the cupboard.
“Aubrey, um… how is she?” She pauses with a butter knife in her hand and looks at me over her shoulder. “Is she okay?”
“She’s good.”
“Good,” she says quietly, turning back to the counter, where she proceeds to slather her toast.
“Why do you ask?”
“I’m not sure.” She lets out a breath then turns to face me. “I don’t know her well, so I don’t know if I was just imagining things, but when she left here the other morning after she helped me clean up, she seemed in a hurry to leave. I just…” She shakes her head and her face goes soft. “I didn’t know if I said something to upset her, or if she was just in a hurry to get home because you guys were back.” She shrugs, taking a bite from her toast and leaning back against the counter.
“What were you talking about?” My girl is shy and has always been that way, which is why she doesn’t have many friends. Most people don’t understand that about her and assume she’s being standoffish or even rude, when that isn’t the case.
“I just told her she should come hang out and bake with me one day. After I said that, it felt like she couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”
“She’s shy. Sometimes it takes a bit for her to warm up to people,” I reply softly, not wanting to hurt her feelings, but wanting her to understand she shouldn’t take offense.
“I can tell she’s shy, but I don’t think it was that.” She pauses, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “We were laughing, and it seemed like she was having fun until I told her she should come back.” She jerks her shoulders up. “After that, it just seemed like I said something wrong.”
Her words are a kick in the gut. Tina has always been close with Steven, but her relationship with Aubrey is and has been in constant turmoil. For a few years, I insisted Aubrey do things with Tina. The girly type stuff that I, as a man and as her father, had no interest in doing. But over time, Aubrey has become more and more adamant about not wanting to have a relationship with her mom, and Tina has been more of a bitch to her for the exact same reason.
“You didn’t say anything wrong.” I rub the back of my neck and drop my eyes to my boots. I stand, picking up my coffee when I do.
“She’s very sweet,” Shel says softly, and my eyes go to her. “I just didn’t like the idea that I hurt her in some way. That’s all.”
“She and her mom don’t have the best relationship. I’m sure you offering to do something as simple as baking a cake with her made her sad, because as much as she doesn’t agree with the way her mom acts or the things she does, she still wishes she was able to hang out with her, have a good time, and do shit like laugh and bake cakes,” I explain. Her mouth goes soft and her eyes turn from mine as she takes the last bite of her toast. She blinks rapidly for a moment, like she’s fighting back tears. “Just give her some time. She’ll come around,” I insist, and she nods and moves toward the sink to turn on the water and wash her hands.
“She told me she and Gramps used to put together puzzles,” she says out of the blue. I move closer and lean in so I can see her face.
“They did,” I agree, placing my hand on her lower back as she turns off the water and leans against the sink.
“He must have really cared about her and Steven both.” Her eyes move to mine, and I nod.
“They grew up thinking of him as their grandfather. They were both crushed when he moved, and devastated when he passed, the flowers out front are from Aubrey, she’s insisted on keeping them up when he left.” I admit, and her chin begins to wobble.
“I wish he would have told me about them.” Seeing the tears swimming in her eyes, I don’t give her a choice as I tuck her against my chest, wrap my arms around her, and rest my chin on top of her head. “Not sure you were at a place to hear about my kids and his relationship with them, and knowing Pat, he was trying to protect you from that,” I say gently, and she pulls in a shaky breath then leans back and looks up at me.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel like you should regret Steven and Aubrey. I would never want that. They’re both amazing kids,” she tells me quietly. My arms spasm around her as my mouth opens, but before I can reply, she’s out of my grasp, muttering something about going to get her bag, leaving the kitchen. Leaning my head back, I wonder how to proceed from here. My eyes drop to the counter where our cups are sitting side-by-side, and I know I may not have a plan, but I will be moving us forward.
“Wow, this is really beautiful,” Shel says from my side, and I smile at the winds
hield.
“It’s not so creepy anymore, is it?”
“Definitely not creepy anymore. It looks like a postcard,” she says, leaning forward to look out the window. The area is beautiful and sits right off the water. The old cannery in the back is still standing strong, but is now used for boat storage and fish cleaning. The bunkhouses, which were once dilapidated, have been remodeled for the workers or guest overflow. A red cookhouse sits in the middle of the large ten-acre area, with the lodge as the focal point.
“Stan did a lot of work out here and is always adding on more rooms, since he’s booked out all summer with fishermen, groups, and guided tours, and then most of the winter with heli-skiers.
“I can see why,” she mutters, as I pull into a spot and put my truck in park.
Turning toward her, I notice her hands are wrapped tightly around her bag, so tight that her knuckles have gone white. “It’ll be okay.” I reach over, forcing her to release her hands. “You’re just talking. If you don’t like her, we’ll find someone you do like.”
“Thank you for doing this,” she says quietly, and I nod then look toward the building.
“Go on in. I’ll wait for you out here,” I assure, and her body relaxes even more. I want to go with her and be there for support if she needs me, but I know that isn’t what she wants. Every time her ex has been brought up, she’s closed down. I know that has more to do with me than anything else, and I don’t want her to keep anything from Mandy when they’re talking.
“Thank you.” She closes her eyes briefly then sends a small smile my way before opening the door and hopping out. Pausing when the door is halfway closed, she sticks her head in, looks up at me, and grins. “Um, who do I ask for?”
Chuckling, I mutter, “Just ask for Mandy at the front. They’ll point you in the right direction.
“Mandy, got it.” She sends one more smile up at me then slams the door closed. Watching her walk, my eyes drop to her ass as she moves up the stairs into the lodge, and I clench my fist on the steering wheel.
“Fuck,” I mutter into the empty cab. I will definitely be moving us forward.
Hanging up the phone when Shel walks out of the lodge not even twenty minutes later, I turn on the truck. “How did it go?” I ask, as she opens the door, climbs in, and tucks her bag in front of her on her lap.
“Okay,” she says, reaching back and putting on her seatbelt.
“Just okay?” I ask, trying to read her tone while backing out of the spot.
“I really like her,” she sighs. “I just don’t know if I can afford her. Even her monthly payments would be a little steep for me right now, and I just started my job.”
“Are you getting help from Hunter’s dad?” I question, pulling out onto the main road that will lead us back into town.
“Yeah, some. But we also worked that out ourselves,” she says quietly, and I know that can’t be good.
“How much is he giving you?”
She fiddles with her purse not looking at me. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Shel, how much is he giving you a month?”
“Five hundred,” she whispers, and my hands clench into fists.
“What?” I growl, while swinging my head to look at her.
“It’s always been okay,” she says quickly. “He pays for anything extra Hunter needs, and until now, I didn’t want or need his money.”
“Five hundred dollars a month is nothing. Shit, Steven could spend that on one trip to the grocery store.”
“It was working for us,” she cries, and I shake my head.
“What does he do?”
“Who?”
“Your ex. What does he do? How does he make a living?”
“He’s a lawyer,” she mutters, and I nod. It’s not a surprising piece of information. The clothes she has on now—even though they’re somewhat casual—look expensive, and I know the bag in her lap cost her at least a grand, if not more, just from the monogram print covering it.
“Does he work for free?”
“No,” she snaps.
“I’m sorry to say this, baby, but your ex is a dick. Even if you agreed to five hundred a month from him, he should have given you more without you even having to ask for it.”
“I didn’t want more,” she whispers.
“Did you mess around on him?” I question, and her angry response is immediate.
“No, of course not.”
“Then what?” I growl, and she hisses, “It’s nothing.”
“It’s something,” I mutter back instantly.
“We just wanted different things.” She says, and my hands fist on the steering wheel. I hate the pain I hear in her voice when she talks about him. “I don’t want him to be right. I don’t want him to know I can’t make it on my own, or that I do need him to help me.”
“There is nothing wrong with asking him to help take care of his son.” I say resting my hand over hers on her lap.
“I know,” she mumbles.
“So, what else did Mandy say?”
“She said that mothers are usually granted custody, but since I moved Hunter so far away from his dad, the judge may not grant it to me.”
“Fuck.” I grit my teeth, knowing she’s right. Normally, mothers are granted custody, but a lot of times, if the child is a boy and the mother is in another state, the judge may think it’s healthier for a boy to grow up with his father.
“I’m going to work out something with Mandy, and in the meantime, I’ll try to talk to Max.”
“You don’t need to talk to him,” I grit out.
“He loves Hunter. If I can make him see that what he’s doing is hurting him—”
“He won’t care. He’s trying to hurt you,” I say, cutting her off.
Pulling her hand from under mine, she sits up, and asks, “Can you drop me off at the bank?”
“Shel—”
“I don’t want to be late,” she interrupts.
“Do you want me to get your van to you?”
“I’ll just walk home,” she says quietly, and I take a chance to look over at her and can see the progress we made this morning is long gone and she’s back to being pissed off at me.
“I’ll pick you up. Tonight, you and Hunter are coming to dinner with us.”
“No, we’re not,” she replies evenly.
“I already told Aubrey and Steven you guys were,” I lie, and can see her back go straight out of the corner of my eye at my words.
“Fine,” she hisses, and I have to fight back my smile as I pull up in front of the bank. Before I even have the truck in park, she’s out the door and rounding the hood. Rolling down the window, I yell out, “Have a good day, baby.” My words gain a glare from her and a few looks from people on the street as they look between us making me smile.
“Bre, Steven,” I call, walking into the house, with Penny following slowly behind me. The medication she’s on for the infection has made her a little sluggish, but when I picked her up, she was definitely happy to see me. Either that, or she was happy to be out of the cage she’s been in while shes healed.
“Yeah, Dad,” Aubrey says, stopping at the top of the stairs leaning over the banister.
“Come on down.” I drop the bag of Penny’s bowls and food on the table near the door.
“Oh, my God! You got us a dog!” She squeals when she notices penny at my feet then bounds down the last flight of stairs toward us, causing Penny to move behind me and whimper.
“Calm, gorgeous,” I say gently, and she stops mid-run and looks up at my face.
“You got us a dog?” Steven asks, and I glance back up the stairs to him.
“Come down. I want to talk to you and your sister.”
“Sure, let me just hang up with Mom,” he mutters, disappearing from sight.
“What’s wrong with her, Dad?” Aubrey asks quietly, squatting down and getting eye level with Penny, who is still hiding behind me.
“I’ll explain once your brother gets down he
re,” I reply softly just as Steven comes back into sight and takes the stairs down two at a time.
“I can’t believe you got a dog,” Steven says, and I smile at him then step back so Penny is forced to come in front of me.
“This is Penny.” I reach down, rubbing the top of her head. “She’s just had surgery and isn’t feeling very good right now, so you both will have to take it slow with her.”
“She’s so cute,” Aubrey says quietly, dropping to her knees and holding out her hand for Penny to sniff. “What kind of dog is she?”
“Part German Shepard, not sure what else.” I smile at her then look at Steven when he asks.
“Why’d she have surgery?”
“She was tied up for too long outside without food or water. The rope she was tied up with was left so long it embedded in her fur and skin, so she had to have surgery to have it removed, along with the infection it caused.”
“People are such dicks,” he growls, and I feel my chest expand with pride.
“They are,” I agree, then continue softly, “I brought her home to get her healthy and to find her another home.”
“But—” Aubrey starts, as two sets of eyes swing to me.
“Unless you guys can prove you’re responsible enough to help take care of her,” I cut them off.
“I’ll walk her,” Aubrey says, rubbing the top of Penny’s head as she presses into her hand with her nose.
“I’ll help too, Dad,” Steven promises, and I nod at both of them.
“She has food and bowls there.” I nod to the bag I brought in. “Set her up and show her around,” I prompt, and Aubrey calls Penny to follow her while Steven stays at my side, and I know why when he speaks.
“Mom said to tell you she would be home tomorrow, so… you know, you don’t have to worry about us being over there.”
“Good,” I agree. I finally talked to Tina after days of her avoiding my calls. She made it perfectly clear she was still pissed but wanted to see the kids, which I told her I had no problem with as long as she was going to be home at night with them.