Then There Was You: A Single Parent Collection

by Gianna Gabriela

  Kelty was back on my steps this morning when I came out with my coffee. She already had breakfast, she informed me, and then asked if she could see yesterday’s pictures.

  I must’ve snapped a few hundred at least. It takes us quite a while to scroll through, and Kelty points at her favorites. I’m actually quite surprised myself at how well some of these turned out. It’s much different to shoot something inanimate that you can adjust your settings for to get the best results. Shooting something that moves unpredictably is much harder. You don’t have time to perfect exposure or lighting or any of those things, it’s more of a Hail Mary, hoping you caught the action at exactly the right moment.

  Thank God for image bursts that allow me to rapid shoot an entire sequence with one press of the button. The result is a few great shots of the whale rising out of the water with every drop of the spray he created clearly defined.

  “It’s not really hard to do. All it takes is holding the camera steady and pushing a button,” I explain. “The hardest part, I think, is finding interesting things to take pictures of, and have the pictures be exactly what it looked like with the naked eye. That’s the real tricky part.”

  She’s quiet for a moment, looking like she’s thinking hard. “You know,” she starts, and I almost chuckle at her tone combined with that serious face. “I think I could find things to take pictures of.”

  “I bet you could,” I encourage her, tempted to give her the smaller camera tucked in my camera bag to experiment with.

  It had been a present for Jamie’s tenth birthday. It was a pretty generic point and click camera, with a fully automatic setting, but it also gave him the option of adjusting settings manually to experiment. Jamie used to love the ‘photo-adventures’ we’d sometimes go on whenever I had some time off. It had given us something in common at a time in his life when I could feel him growing up and away from me. In hindsight, I should’ve made an effort to create more of those memories. Just one of many regrets.

  The thought of taking Kelty under my wing—teaching her about lighting and composition—is an enticing prospect. She’s not my child, though, I should definitely check with her father before I make any promises.

  God forbid I overstep any more boundaries than I already am.

  JUDE

  “Grampa!”

  Kelty shoots by me out the door, the moment I open it to my dad lumbering up the steps.

  It’s difficult noticing him look older every time I see him. He even moves like an old man now.

  “Hey, Peanut.” His deep rumble is still familiar, though. An immediate comfort.

  I watch as my father folds Kelty in his arms, pressing his cheek to the top of her head. It invokes memories of me pressing my ear to his chest, feeling his deep voice vibrating against me as he talked. I remember wishing I’d have a reverberating voice like his when I grew up, but instead I ended up with a smoker’s rasp, when I’ve never smoked a day in my life.

  “Son.” His eyes meet mine as he lets his granddaughter go and I go out to meet him.

  “Glad you’re here, Dad.” I give him a hug and get a few bone-crushing slaps to my back.

  He was already working on the docks when he met my mom almost fifty years ago. A gruff man, with very little in the way of social skills, who fell head over heels for the pretty librarian. They were polar opposites; everything about my mom was soft and refined, in contrast with all my dad’s rough edges. Still, they loved each other and over the years, Mom managed to smooth out some of his gruffness. Even taught him how to show affection to his sons, which wasn’t always easy for him. It’s not the way he was raised for sure. He did well by us, though, and my brother and I learned to take the bruises with the love.

  “Me too, boy. She’s looking better.”

  “Getting better too, Dad.”

  I see him swallow hard before nodding. “That’s good.”

  Kelty’s diagnosis had almost done him in. Following so shortly to Mom dying, the initial news his granddaughter might not have long to live wreaked havoc, and there were times I’d been afraid of losing him too.

  “Princess, grab Grampa a coffee, will you? He could probably use one. Dad, give me your keys and I’ll fetch your stuff.”

  I round the front of the house when I spot Mika walking over to the restaurant. She sees me too and shoots me a hesitant smile. I lift my chin.

  It’s not a surprise when she keeps walking, after losing my mind kissing her yesterday, I just about ran out of the cottage. She must think I’m certifiable.

  The truth is, she scares me. Or rather, the feelings she evokes scare me. It’s pretty intense and for a moment when my mouth held her captive, with her back against the door, I forgot everything else.

  I can’t afford to forget everything else.

  My daughter depends on me. So do her mother and Mark. This is not the right time for me to lose my head, among other things.

  I’d underestimated the effect Mika has on me, and now that I’ve felt its full potential, I’m second-guessing the wisdom of pursuing anything. What if I lose myself in her and she packs her bags at the end of her stay? Or what if something goes wrong in the meantime? My daughter is already more than halfway in love with her, and it wouldn’t take much for me to tumble down that same rabbit hole. Then there’s her working at the restaurant as well.

  This woman rolled in like a tsunami, flooding every aspect of my life. And she’s not even doing it on purpose.

  Fuck, I’ve told a few women I loved them—and meant it at the time—but I’ve never had the urge to make a life-long commitment, let alone based on a single kiss. Still, it wouldn’t have been hard to convince me yesterday, and that scared the crap out of me.

  I’m glad to see Dad brought more than just one suitcase. Having him here might prove to be just the distraction I need.

  “Mr. Parks!”

  Mandy comes around the bar and greets Dad like a long-lost favorite uncle. A role he’s always enjoyed when he visited before. Of course Mandy has a way of making everyone feel welcome.

  Dad can’t hide his pleased little smile. Nothing like a pretty young woman making a fuss to have the old geezer spark with some life.

  “Ah ya done with that man of yaws yet?” he asks, his eyes twinkling. “Nevah gonna give me a chance, aw ya?”

  “Truth is,” Mandy says, familiar with Dad’s game. “I don’t think I could handle a man like you, Mr. Parks.”

  “Bullocks. And quit calling me mistah, making me feel old. It’s Jim.”

  “Fair enough, Jim,” she emphasizes with a grin. “Have a seat and I’ll bring you some drinks. You still like that Trillium brew your son keeps stocked for you?”

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  Kelty is already seated at her favorite table. It’s in the corner where she can see out on the cove, as well as to the side where her heron often appears for breakfast or dinner. That is, until the patio opens, when she prefers to sit outside if there’s room.

  “Good evening.” The formal greeting sounds a little awkward from Mika’s mouth as she walks up to the table.

  “Hi, Mika, guess what? My granddad’s here.”

  She doesn’t hold anything back when she smiles at my daughter and I feel that too.

  “That’s great, honey,” she says, turning the smile on my dad, who looks at her through slitted eyes.

  “Who’s this?” is the first thing out of his mouth.

  “Dad, this is Mika, she’s filling in while Trish is recovering in the hospital.”

  His eyes dart to me. “How’s Trish doin’?”

  “Spoke to her husband this morning. Things seem to be looking a bit better. The doctors say since she’s still young, her chances of a full recovery are good, but it’s gonna take time.”

  He grunts before he looks back at Mika. “You don’t look like a waitress to me,” he says, and I groan internally when I see her wince.

  “Dad,” I try, but Kelty, in all her innocence, jumps in.

 
“She’s a photographer, Grampa.”

  “A photographah?” He doesn’t look convinced, scrutinizing the poor woman, who is starting to fiddle with her notepad.

  “Yeah,” Kelty says undeterred. “She takes pictures of my heron, and yesterday she came with us whale watching and she took pictures of them too. I want to learn photography.”

  That draws the old man’s attention, and mine too.

  “Ya do?”

  “Yeah, it’s so cool. You first have to find things that are interesting, and then the light has to be right, and the comp…compos…”

  “Composition,” Mika softly fills in.

  “That a fact?” Once again his squinting eyes take her in.

  “I’ll just give you a minute and grab your drinks,” she quickly mutters before walking away from the fire. I don’t blame her.

  “Dad…” My tone is level, but I know he can hear the threat.

  “What? She’s an interesting package.”

  “Don’t call her that.”

  “Dunno what else to call her. One day I’m watching her interview Belichick on the tube, the next she’s waiting tables in yaw restaurant, and now my granddaughter tells me she’s a photographah. I’d say that makes her an interesting package.”

  Of course my dad would recognize her. I should’ve known; he’s intimately acquainted with every damn sportscaster on the Eastern Seaboard.

  “Just don’t harass her, Dad,” I plead, to which he harrumphs loudly.

  9

  MIKA

  “Mika?”

  I’m about to open my car door when I hear Jude’s voice.

  I haven’t actually spoken to him, other than during work hours, since I mustered up the courage to approach him about the camera Friday afternoon.

  “Are you sure?” he’d asked in the relative quiet of his office. “That camera’s gotta hold memories for you.”

  “It does,” I confessed, “but I like the idea of someone else making good use of it better than it collecting dust somewhere.”

  He’d nodded and appeared to be deep in thought before responding.

  “Let me think on it, okay?”

  I can’t say I wasn’t disappointed, but the weekend was busy enough not to dwell on it too long. The first weekend of June apparently brings an influx of vacationers to the Cape, and although the restaurant had been busy during lunches, a lineup had started forming for dinner seating as well.

  With the patio now open, Mandy had scheduled two extra pairs of hands, in addition to Penny and myself. Jude was around, but mostly jumped in behind the bar from time to time so Mandy could help on the tables.

  He seemed evasive all weekend, and already conflicted myself, I figured he had regrets of his own and did my share of avoiding.

  Hearing his voice out here has me square my shoulders before I turn around and watch him close the distance.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you have a minute or are you in a hurry?”

  “I’m not rushed.”

  He suddenly seems at a loss for words as he runs his hand through his already unruly hair. “About last Wednesday,” he starts, and I inadvertently brace myself against what’s coming. I assumed he wanted to talk about Jamie’s camera. I feel a bit blindsided so I carefully steel my features. He looks at me inquisitively before breathing out a deep sigh and rubbing his chin. “Look, you…shit…I’ve felt a draw…to you…since we first ran into each other at Tufts. I don’t know why, or what, but when I saw you again in the lobby last month, it was still there. Then you turned out to be my tenant for the summer.” He lowers his eyes as he raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. “Almost too good to be true. But it didn’t stop there; my staff adopted you in very short order, as did my daughter. It only seemed to get better.” He pauses again as his eyes find mine. “And then I kissed you—”

  I quickly hold up my hand, afraid that if I listen any more, I’ll burst out crying. This is it. I won’t be able to stay now. I’m going to miss that little girl, and I haven’t even had a chance to come clean. “I get it,” I manage, reaching for my car door, but his hand intercepts mine.

  “No. I don’t think you do,” he disagrees, holding firmly to my fingers. “Kissing you was…” He blows his breath through his lips. “Amazing? Mind-blowing, for sure. At least for me it was. Just talking about it makes me want to kiss you again.” I startle at his confession. That’s not what I expected to follow at all. “But see, the thing is, I know when I do it won’t be so easy to take a step back. It’s going fast. Not you,” he quickly adds. “It’s me. My daughter is my priority, first and foremost, and already she’s attached to you. What if this…whatever’s happening here…ends badly? You said you came here to find yourself, what if you get as lost in me as I could get in you? Where would that leave you? Where would that leave Kelty?”

  I’m in shock. Mostly because he’s voicing similar concerns to mine, with one major difference: I have knowledge that might change his entire perception of me.

  “I hear you. And you’re right, I probably could easily get lost in you. It wouldn’t be fair; because there’s a lot you don’t know about me yet. A lot I haven’t even wrapped my head around myself.”

  “Your son,” he suggests and I nod.

  “For one, yes. Just like Kelty is the main focus in your life, Jamie was that for me. My purpose. When that disappears, it changes the entire framework of your existence.” His hand just squeezes mine and I’m grateful he doesn’t give me platitudes. “My emotions are still raw,” I forge on. “I feel things…almost too fast…and I can’t tell how much of that is real. I’m just getting my feet wet, I can’t quite trust myself yet.”

  Then he does something else unexpected and takes me into his arms. “We slow down. Take the pressure off and deal with whatever comes. If this pull between us is all it promises to be, a little downshift won’t change where it will end up.”

  I only manage to nod, a little sad, but also a lot relieved. Mostly relieved, actually.

  He sets me back a step, smiles, and presses his lips to my forehead. The gentle and caring gesture immediately brings tears to my eyes.

  Fuck, I haven’t had this since my mother died many years ago. I smile up at him, blinking against the tears and turn to my car when he starts walking back to the house.

  “Oh, and, Mika?” he says, looking over his shoulder. “If you’re still sure you want to do this, I think Kelty would love the camera. Her tenth birthday is coming up next week. She’s been nagging me for one all weekend,” he adds with a mischievous grin.

  I’m still smiling myself as I make my way to Nauset Beach to look for sea glass and photo ops.

  JUDE

  “More coffee, Dad?”

  I ignore the inquiring glance my old man follows me with as I come back into the kitchen. I’m not sure what bug he has up his ass about Mika, but he’s been pretty obvious about his disapproval of her. Fuck, he hasn’t even given her a chance to do anything wrong.

  “Saw ya out there with that woman,” he grumbles, determined to get his word in.

  “Jesus, Dad. What do you have against her?” I finally snap, my patience worn thin. I’m already questioning the wisdom of having him come. This is the kind of added stress I don’t need.

  “Ya hear things.” He shrugs like he’s done talking, but I’m not done. I quickly check to see that Kelty is still watching a show on TV before closing the kitchen door.

  “What things, Dad? She’s a good woman, who’s been through enough. She doesn’t need you making her life harder for no damn good reason.”

  “I see she’s already got ya head turned,” he grumbles. His head snaps up when my fist hits the counter.

  “What is your problem, Dad?” I bark a little too loudly, and I keep my eye on the door to make sure Kelty doesn’t barge in.

  “Been all ovah the news in Boston, boy. Not an accident she’s hidin’ up heah. Trying to get out of the heat, I’m guessin’. Fought her ex-husband in cawt just so she coul
d pull the plug on her boy. The husband tells it all ovah the papers. Ink weren’t even wet on the cawt ordah and she had ‘em shut off the machines. Man is devastated.”

  It’s clear my father buys into this story, but he doesn’t know I saw the woman walk down that hallway, her world destroyed. If any of it is true, she had a reason. There’s not a doubt in my mind that boy was her life.

  “Weren’t you the one who taught me not to jump to conclusions?” I remind him. “That you shouldn’t make judgments without all the necessary information? I distinctly remember you saying those things to me. I don’t claim to know what the full story is—she told me her boy was on life support and then died—but Dad, it wrecked her.” The flash of guilt on his face tells me I scored a point. “Don’t go crucifying her based on half a story, because what I’ve seen and know of her, there isn’t a malicious bone in Mika’s body.”

  The temptation is substantial to log onto the internet and dig up whatever Dad is talking about, but I don’t. I trust my gut, and it tells me her ex-husband is a sniveling coward, dragging her name through the mud like that.

  I’m sure there’s lots I don’t know yet—just as she doesn’t really know much about my history—but I’d rather she tell me herself when she’s ready.

  Dad opted not to drive into Boston with us for Kelty’s cardio checkup.

  I’m not sure whether he’s still pissed at me for reading him the riot act, whether he just didn’t feel up to the drive, or he’s just avoiding the hospital. He’s never been a fan. I suspect it might be a combination of all of them. These trips may be getting a little tedious, but I’m always relieved when we leave with a thumbs-up on her health.

  We’re one visit away from her six-month mark, when they’ll assess whether or not they can reduce her immunosuppressants slowly. Kelty is not a fan of the pills she has to take every day, but she understands how important they are.

  It had killed to explain to our then eight-year-old daughter that she was very seriously ill. She didn’t need us to spell out there was a chance she might not survive, she clued into it on her own, and that realization was the worst moment of my life, bar none. She’s my girl, my princess, and those big blue eyes landed on me expecting her daddy to fix it. Fix her. Except for once there was absolutely nothing I could do for her.