“You can ask me anything.”
“If I choose to sell the inn and go back to my job, would you come with us?”
“Does your SUV have a trailer hitch?”
“Yes, why?” She was confused by his question.
Bowie smiled. “Because we would need it in order to tow my work trailer. I mean, I’d have to buy one, but there’s no way in hell you’re leaving Cape Harbor without me, Brooklyn. I would’ve gone with you last time if you had asked.”
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life.”
“I’ve made two,” he told her. “The first one was letting Austin stake a claim over you. I should’ve told you from the beginning how I felt. Longing for you for six years was pure torture.”
“And the second?”
“Not following you. Not chasing you. Not looking for you.”
“That’s like three.”
He shook his head. “It’s one. I should’ve gone after you, but I was a coward and thought you would return . . . when you didn’t, I was hurt and angry. I felt like I had wasted so much time being there for you through everything with Austin. I couldn’t understand why you would turn your back on me, of all people, and yet you had. I let my pride get in the way, and I let anger rule my thoughts. When I met Rachel, I tried . . . I really did . . . I went through the motions, but it just never felt right.”
“Not that it matters, but why are you getting divorced?”
Bowie sighed. “Because I can’t . . .” He paused, and all the color drained from his face. “Oh my God.”
“What?” Brooklyn demanded, frightened by the tone in his voice. “What is it?”
“She left me because she couldn’t get pregnant. She said it was me, that I was the problem. But clearly that’s not the case.”
Brooklyn laughed. She hadn’t meant to, but it sneaked out. “Nope, there’s a live wire teenager here to prove her wrong.”
Bowie put his hands on the top of his head and looked to the sky. He started to laugh.
“Look, if you need time—”
“For what?” he interrupted.
“To figure shit out. To make sure this is what you want.”
“The only thing I need to figure out is how to spend as much time as I can with you and Brystol. I mean, I want to be with you in every way possible, and on the other hand, I want to ditch out on work and spend days on end getting to know my daughter. I am completely in love with you, Brooklyn, and you better love me back, or we’re going to have some issues,” he said, smiling. “Do me a favor?”
“What’s that?”
“Stay. At least until Brystol graduates, and then we’ll go wherever you want. Give my parents four years to be grandparents.”
“We’ll stay,” she said as she leaped into his arms. They kissed deeply as he held her to his body, waves lapping at his feet and drenching his shoes. As he set her down, a big wave crashed to shore, soaking them both. They briefly gasped for air before laughter took over. It had been years since she had laughed this hard.
“We have to tell Brystol,” Bowie said, changing the mood.
She nodded in agreement yet offered nothing else in return. She wasn’t sure how they would break the news and feared her daughter would be so hurt that she would reject them both.
“First, I think she needs to see us together like this.”
“Is that so?” Brooklyn asked, raising her eyebrow.
“Unless you’d rather have some secret romance. I mean, that could be pretty exciting, sneaking away to make out.” He pulled their joined hands up and kissed hers. “I’ve waited over twenty years for this moment, to tell you freely, without judgment. I’m too old to play games. And now with Brystol, I think we could give her the family she’s never had. If that’s what you want.” He shrugged. “I don’t know—maybe I’m reading things that aren’t there.”
She exhaled. “You’re not. I want to be with you, Bowie. I have since long before that night. Life threw us off track a little bit, but I don’t think it’s too late for us.”
“Neither do I. As far as telling her, I’d like to wait until after Carly passes. They’re close, and I don’t want Brystol upset with her grandmother during this time.”
Brooklyn wiped a tear away from her cheek. “I can agree with that.”
Together they started back toward the house, Brooklyn picking up her shoes before climbing the wooden staircase. Inside, the house was fairly quiet with the exception of the construction going on next door. Brooklyn felt like they should go check on the day’s progress but also had faith in their crew to get the job done.
Once in the living room, they saw Brystol lying on the floor, using Luke as a pillow as usual. If the dog cared that Bowie had entered the room, he wasn’t showing it. He had barely lifted his head. Brystol, on the other hand, made an effort to at least acknowledge them. She was watching a documentary on whales in the Pacific Ocean, and Brooklyn didn’t want to interrupt her. She needed these moments to still be a teen and not be consumed with pain over her grandmother. Brooklyn watched Bowie as he glanced at Brystol. He was looking at her as his daughter now, and not the child his best friend had never seen grow up.
Sensing it was a good time to let their daughter in on part of their secret, Brooklyn reached for Bowie, pushing her way under his arm as he kissed her forehead, and Brystol chanted, “Mom’s got a boyfriend.” She smiled and leaned up to kiss Bowie on the lips . . . an action she knew her daughter would never let her live down.
“What do you know about boyfriends?” Brooklyn asked.
Brystol shrugged. “All I know is that Nonnie and Simi think you’re perfect together.”
“How do you know this?”
She looked at Bowie. “Sometimes, after Nonnie has had too much wine, she talks very loudly.”
The three of them laughed. This was a good moment for them, even with the impending passing of their matriarch; they would be able to look back on this and say, “Remember that time Nonnie had too much wine . . .”
“Does this mean we’re staying, Mom?”
Brooklyn nodded and couldn’t hold back a smile as Brystol’s face lit up. She went to her mom and hugged her tightly. After she let go, she crouched down, lifted Luke’s snout, and said, “You’re stuck with me now.”
THIRTY-ONE
After Brystol stopped teasing Brooklyn about having a boyfriend, Brooklyn took Bowie upstairs to show him the paperwork she had found in Carly’s desk. In a sense, he was relieved. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Brooklyn, but seeing the report that there was no possible way for Austin to be Brystol’s father was liberating. Still, he was plagued by the lingering voice in the back of his mind that said it was entirely possible Brooklyn could’ve been with someone else. As much as he refused to believe that was the case, he couldn’t discount the suspicion. He glanced from the report to Brooklyn. She smiled.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said.
“You do?”
She moved toward him. She lifted the sheet of paper from his hand, revealing another page. “Don’t ask me how she had your DNA. Right now, I don’t want to think of what went on in this house when my daughter wasn’t here. I just know she did, and this report shows that you’re her father.”
A small smile turned into a huge grin, one that hurt his cheeks instantly. The pain was worth it, though. He was going to continue to smile like this until someone gave him a reason not to. This wasn’t a victory for him . . . he had lost out on so much time with his daughter and silently vowed to do whatever he could to make up for it. However, he felt vindicated because Rachel had destroyed him when she had walked out, blaming him for their inability to have a child. And yes, maybe he couldn’t anymore. Maybe something had happened to him in the last fifteen years that prevented him from getting the job done, but that didn’t matter to him because he had Brystol. And whether she wanted him as a father or not didn’t matter because he knew she liked him as long as Luke was around.
“Cong
ratulations, it’s a girl!” Brooklyn put her hands up in the air and tried to smile, but tears started pouring out. Bowie dropped the paperwork on the desk and pulled her into his arms. “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, pressing her face into his shirt. He held her tightly, wrapping his strong arms around her. He wanted to take away her guilt but was at a loss of how to do that. He too had the same feeling. He was sorry as well—sorry that they had missed so much time as a family—however, that wouldn’t be the case moving forward.
He leaned back so he could look at her, lifting her chin so they were eye to eye. God, he loved her so much he thought his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. “No more, B. No more tears for what we can’t change. Just happy thoughts.”
Brooklyn choked out a bit of laughter. “You sound like Peter Pan.”
“Sometimes I wish I had a little bit of magic on my side, but for right now I’m going to relish the moment, and you need to as well.”
Their moment was interrupted by the shrill sound of her phone ringing.
“And if we want to make that happen, you’re going to have to change that obnoxious ring tone.” He laughed, stepping aside so she could answer. While she was busy talking, he carefully put the most important document of his life back in its place and returned the folder before closing the drawer.
“We have to go,” Brooklyn said, staring down at her phone. He already knew from her demeanor who the call was about. “That was Simone. She says that the doctors are telling her it’s time for everyone to come say goodbye.”
“Do you want . . .” Bowie paused. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to ask her. Did she want him to go? Stay? Drive them and wait in the lobby?
“You’re coming, right?”
“Of course.” Now that she had asked, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to be there. He was angry with Carly for the years of deceit and wondered if she weren’t dying, would she have ever said anything? Deep down, there really wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Carly would’ve held fast to the paternity of Brystol if she weren’t lying on her deathbed, and that thought angered him. He wanted to lash out at Carly, berate her for keeping something so important from him. But he knew nothing good would come from doing so and would likely upset Brystol, and that was something he wasn’t willing to do.
“We can go together, in my car,” Brooklyn suggested.
“Is it okay if Luke comes?” he asked. “I rarely leave without him.”
Brooklyn glanced at him, leery. “Does he chew on things?”
Bowie laughed. “He’s better trained than some of my workers. Luke will be fine. We’ll leave a window open for him, and he’ll most likely sleep. Plus, he’s a good comfort for Brystol, with her grandmother dying.” He shrugged. Trying to sell his dog to someone else wasn’t something he was used to. Everyone around town loved Luke, and Brooklyn would as well once she had a chance to get to know him.
“I think that’s a good idea, especially for Brystol.”
Together, they walked downstairs, and Brooklyn hollered to Brystol that they needed to head over to the hospital. She suggested that she pack a few things to keep her mind occupied. While Brystol was getting her bag ready, Brooklyn and Bowie sneaked some kisses in the kitchen. He felt like he had been with her forever, when in fact, the one night they had spent together was purely happenstance and had yet to be repeated. When he had arrived at her apartment that night, he had gone to console her, to give her a shoulder to cry on. As much as he had longed to kiss her, he had never intended to do so that night. Standing in the kitchen with her now nestled in his arms, he was thankful he had.
The drive over to the hospital was eventful, to say the least. Every window in the SUV was down, letting in a nice cool breeze. Brystol’s head was resting against the door, letting the wind blow her hair around. Bowie couldn’t wait to spend more time with her, to understand her mannerisms, her moods, and her facial expressions. He thought he saw worry on her face, maybe even fear or apprehension, but he wasn’t sure. He thought about asking her what she was thinking about and figured the answer would be simple: her grandmother. Brooklyn eyed her daughter in the side mirror and reached for the dial on the radio, turning up the volume. Within seconds, she started belting out the tune coming through the speakers. Bowie knew what she was doing. This was her way of changing the mood. Brooklyn was trying to lift their daughter’s spirits, and it was working. Brystol sat upright and sang her heart out. Bowie did his best to pay attention to the road but found himself trying to watch his girls. Brooklyn claimed she had asked him to drive because she didn’t know the way, but he knew that was just an excuse. She was giving him a glimpse of what their family life was going to be like, and he fucking loved it. He didn’t care that his girls were singing off-key or that his dog’s slobber was getting the back of his arm wet, because he was happy. This was the life that he had been waiting for, and in a matter of hours, his whole world had changed.
“Can Luke come in?” Brystol asked as they arrived at the hospital.
“Not inside, but when you need a break, we’ll come get him and take him for a walk. There’s a great little place over there for Luke.” Bowie pointed toward a small field that had been designated for dogs.
“He’ll be okay in the car?” she asked.
Bowie caught Brystol staring at him in the rearview mirror. He winked at her and couldn’t help but grin. That was his kid, and he couldn’t have been happier. “We’re going to leave the windows down for him. He’ll be fine—I promise.”
Brystol didn’t look so sure as she nuzzled Luke’s neck. Bowie was going to have to make sure he brought her out here to check on him often. Being in the hospital wasn’t his idea of a fun time anyway, so using Luke as an excuse worked in his favor. Plus, it gave him more time with Brystol, and that was something he wouldn’t pass up for anything.
The hospital was small and not equipped to handle major traumas. Broken bones, concussions, minor vehicle accidents, and the occasional nail through the hand were what they mostly saw. When news had broken of Austin’s boat going down, the hospital had been flooded with people. They had come out in droves to donate blood in the event he needed it and to show support, even though he would’ve been airlifted to Seattle. His friends, though, had been down on the docks, loading boats for the search effort. Despite the storm, the search and rescue efforts had been well underway and had already pulled Grady from the water. When he had arrived here, his parents had obviously been relieved. Yet, all eyes had remained on the double doors, waiting for another stretcher.
Sometimes, Bowie wondered if the eyes were all still waiting. He had lost count of how many search and recovery missions had happened since that night. He, himself, had even gone diving in hopes of recovering Austin’s body. Every time he heard on the news of remains being found, his hopes soared that it was Austin so they could finally lay him to rest. And if his hopes rose, he couldn’t begin to imagine what Carly went through each time.
She lay there peacefully. Bowie had expected to see her in one of those hospital-issued gowns, but she was looking as regal as ever with her hair done and dressed in a maroon sweater. He studied her for a moment, wondering if he had been around after Austin died, if she would have told him about Brystol. Unfortunately, he just didn’t think she would’ve. Whether Brystol was his or not, she saw the girl as an extension of Austin somehow and was going to keep that information to herself as long as possible.
Brystol stood next to Bowie and leaned into him. He wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not, but he welcomed the affection. He put his arm around her shoulder and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “If you want to get out of here, just say the word and we’ll go. You don’t have to stay.” She nodded against him and turned away. Bowie watched as she went back to her mom, who was standing at the nurses’ station with Simone, getting an update.
He hesitated before crossing the threshold into the room. He pulled the hard plastic chair closer to the bed and sat down. For the life of him he co
uldn’t grasp why hospitals insisted on using the most uncomfortable furniture. His lower back was sure to be aching by the time he was ready to go.
Carly opened her eyes, and Bowie reached for her hand. He didn’t want to be nice to her. He wanted to yell, to curse her out, and tell her he wished he had never met her. He wanted to ask her why. Why would she hide something so important as a child from him? But those words would never leave his mouth. The damage had been done, and there was nothing she could say now to repair her actions.
“Love them,” she muttered groggily.
“Love who?” he asked, leaning forward. He wanted to hear her say their names.
“My girls. My Bs. Love them.”
He smiled, but it wasn’t for her; it was for them. “I plan to, for the rest of my life.” He was being completely honest with her about that. He had no intentions of ever stopping.
“Home.”
Bowie wasn’t sure what she was talking about, but he went ahead and talked anyway. “Your home will be fine, Carly. Construction is moving along on the inn, and it’ll be open again in no time. I went into your kitchen. I know you didn’t want me to, but I wanted to make sure everything was up to code. It’s beautiful. Simone did a really great job.” After you destroyed it, he thought.
A nurse came in, interrupting him.
“How is she?” Bowie asked.
“It won’t be long now,” she said solemnly. “She sure does like her visitors, though.”
That statement confused him. Who else had come to see her? “Do you know who was here?”
She shook her head. “Not by name—they were older ladies and a few of her son’s friends.”
Bowie was happy that people were coming to see her, except for Austin’s friends. He hadn’t been the only one to disappear from Carly’s life after Austin died. They all did. Death had a funny way of both breaking people apart and bringing them together, though. He guessed all that mattered was that she was loved. It didn’t matter if people showed her then or now, as long as she knew.
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