Return To Us (Sand & Fog Series Book 6)

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Return To Us (Sand & Fog Series Book 6) Page 32

by Susan Ward


  Shaking my head, I reach for my phone because I could spend all night out here trying to crack this puzzle, but I won’t ever be able to. Grandpa was an enigma. It might just be a place he liked and nothing more.

  Turning on my cell, I wait for the screen to light up.

  Willow: Thinking of you. Don’t feel you have to text back. You’re with your family. Love you.

  Don’t feel you have to? It’s like telling me I don’t have to breathe air. Not possible. Especially now that I know why she stayed behind Seattle. She knew what this would be for me and my family before I did. I didn’t know a fucking thing until I stepped into the house.

  She’s probably in bed. I hit FaceTime anyway.

  I stare at the screen, my heart racing, as I wait for her face. “Are you OK?” she asks instead of saying hello, and the glum in me is gone.

  “Yeah. Sorry to call so late. It’s been a lot to take in. Are you doing all right?”

  She nods, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “It was a little crazy here after you left, but it’s quiet out front now. I haven’t looked, but I’m hoping it means they’ve gone. You didn’t need to leave one of your dad’s bodyguards on my porch. Sneaky of you, Eric, to do that and not ask. I’m sending him home in the morning.”

  “Don’t tell me how to take care of my woman. And don’t count on him leaving just because you ask him to or the press being gone.”

  “It’s very not PC but I like it when you call me your woman.” She smiles, her head tilting on her pillow. “Where are you? I can barely see your face.”

  “I can see you, baby. That’s all that matters.” I rake back the hair from my forehead, struggling through the thoughts in my head. “I’m sitting in the backyard, staring at the ocean. Thinking of you, so I called.”

  Her inky brows wrinkle. “You doing all right, Eric?”

  Second time she’s asked me that—damn.

  I explain everything that’s happened since I left her house, even send the pictures snapped from the street in Hope Ranch, and I talk about my reunion with Hana and my family, and what comes next.

  “You’ve had yourself a day, now haven’t you?”

  My throat burns because all the talk brought me here to what I need to tell her.

  “I don’t know how long I’m going to be here. I have a lot to make up for with Hana. Leaving soon isn’t an option. And there’s a lot going on with my family that I’ve got to deal with—”

  “Stop. You don’t have to explain, Eric. She’s your daughter. I wouldn’t love you if she wasn’t your priority. One week. One month. A year. Whatever it takes, you do. I—” Her words flow more rapidly with each breath and I’m sure I’ve messed this up; she sounds anxious and afraid.

  “Wait. Let me say what I need to. Will you do that, baby?”

  My voice is more ragged than I intend.

  Her eyes grow larger. Serious.

  “I’m sorry. I won’t interrupt again,” she whispers brokenly.

  The knot in my throat tightens. “I understand why you didn’t fly down here with me. And I’m not going to ask you again to come. But I’d be a liar if I said it wasn’t ripping me apart not being with you.”

  “That’s not what I wanted.” She lets out a shuddering breath.

  “Me either, baby. But it was the right call and you made it. For me. And I love you for it. That’s what I love about you, Willow. You’re like a perfect compass, always pointing in the true direction. You can see what’s the right move for me and get me to do it. That said, if you decide at any time it’s the right move for you to fly down here, I’d drop to my knees and kiss your feet.”

  Her eyes stop blinking and her mouth rounds with her lips apart. “Tell me what’s really going on with you, Eric.”

  I swipe the back of my hand across my nose. Fuck, I’m crying again and it’s suffocating me. “I needed to see your face tonight. That’s all, Willow.”

  “You can see my face anytime you want to.”

  “Good.” My voice sounds like a croak through my intense emotion. Not at all how I want to sound to her. “I need how you look at me, now more than ever, Willow.”

  She cradles her cheek in her palm and gazes at me through the phone, baffled by me again. “Why’s that? How do I look at you?”

  “With no worry about me. No doubt. Like there’s never been anything but the man you see today. Like I can do anything, and when you look at me that way, I believe it. Because I believe in you, Willow. I believe in us. I believe in how you look at me.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Eric

  I CATCH MYSELF JUST before I fall and my eyes jerk wide. I’m balanced on the edge of my bed. Roll forward—smack—it’s the ground. Turn over—crush on top of…I glance over my shoulder…yep, Hana’s there like she’s been all six nights since I got home.

  I let my body slowly melt over the side and hit the floor soundlessly. We’ve got a long day ahead, it’s not even morning, but I’m wide awake, she’s zonked out, and Dad can use a little alone time before the family madness begins.

  After easing up onto my feet, I turn to glance down at her, how she’s curled on her side facing my empty spot, making my heart both warm and clench.

  It’s not that I don’t like her sneaking down the hall into my bed every night, and it isn’t that I don’t understand why she does it—she’s been missing her dad too long—but that she keeps doing it worries me that she’s still afraid I might disappear on her again.

  We’ve come a long way in the short time I’ve been home, but we’ve still got a lot farther to go until we’re as solid as we need to be.

  As much as I wish Willow were here, I know she was right that I have this time alone with Hana. How my daughter shadows my every waking minute confirms that. It’s a uniquely pleasant feeling, but it does make me worry that I might not get the pieces of my life together anytime soon.

  In the best of circumstances, introducing a new face into Hana’s world would have to be handled with care. This is far from the best circumstance. This one I didn’t see coming.

  I grab the shirt I tossed off before climbing into bed last night, pull it on, and head for the door. Hopefully, no one else is awake and I can score a few minutes to talk to my woman without someone close enough to listen in.

  Good. There are no lights on in the hallway when I enter it, and if I’m lucky all my fam is still in their beds. It’s not that I don’t love my family, but in the middle of everything going on it’d be nice if they could stop pushing in on my relationship with my daughter. My three sisters have an opinion on everything I do and aren’t shy about voicing how they think I’m not parenting right.

  I amble into the kitchen, shove a K-Cup into the maker, and reach for my phone. I rub my eyes before I look at the screen powering on. It’s too early to call. Hopefully Willow’s phone is on vibrate.

  I tap her icon—sorry, Jade, if it’s not on silent mode.

  Willow’s been staying with her sister since the morning after I left. That took the edge off my worry over her, but I’m not sure why she made the move. In a different way, these days are hitting Willow and I’m not sure how. It’s just a feeling I have, something I hear in her voice, and I can’t help worrying it’s more than my being apart from her.

  Maybe she’s feeling like me: anxious because it’s like I’m trapped in a blind turn and I can no longer see where we’re going.

  Seven days ago, the turn wasn’t there—my grandpa’s death, the media frenzy, or with Willow in one city and me in another.

  Sure, I hadn’t thought through the details of what we’d be, but in different states wasn’t part of the equation. The picture I carried in my head was complete at me and Willow together, and what I thought was our beginning.

  Fuck, three rings. Come on, baby. Wake up. Answer the phone. My gut twists as I’m switched into voice mail because I’m sure I won’t get another chance to talk to her today.

 
“Hey, baby, it’s me,” I say into the voice mail. “I’m sorry I called so early but I’m going to be tied up all day. I hope you’re having a good time with your sister, but not so good you’re not missing me. I miss you, Willow, and I wanted you to know that I’m thinking of—”

  Beep. I’m cut off. “Fuck,” I groan because I didn’t get to telling her I love her, and each passing hour makes being apart even more agonizing for me.

  “Shush, Eric. You’ll wake everyone.”

  I switch on the light and swing around at the counter, finding my mom sitting on the sectional in front of the window. I flush because I could have done without my mother witnessing my outburst, and I’m annoyed that somehow I missed her when I came into the room, but she didn’t say anything and it’s dark where she’s sitting.

  “Sorry,” I say quietly, then grab my cup and walk toward her. “I didn’t mean to be so loud.”

  She smiles and pats the seat next to her. “Wasn’t expecting you to be the first up.”

  “No room in my bed.” I stretch out in the spot next to Chrissie, my back against the armrest and my legs on the cushions so I’m facing her. “How can a six-year-old take up so much space when they sleep?”

  Chrissie laughs. “I don’t know, but they do.” Her face takes on one of her quirky, hard to read expressions. “You want to tell me what’s got you so agitated, EJ?”

  I shrug. “There’s a lot going on.”

  “For me, too.” She crinkles her nose, and now I feel like a shit worrying my mom on the day of Grandpa’s service. “Can I help?”

  “I’m the one who should be asking you that.”

  She pats the tops of my feet. “Having you home helps me.”

  I smile. She says that lovingly, but it packs a punch anyway. All the things I’ve put her through and knowing I wasn’t always the son she deserved me to be.

  “I love you, Mom.”

  Chrissie’s blue eyes brighten. “I know. But something tells me there’s another woman first in my baby boy’s heart these days. I wasn’t sure that’s what you’ve been preoccupied by since you got home, not until this morning. Are you going to tell me who she is, or do I have to work it out of you?”

  She says it silly—my mom can be cuteness personified—but I flush anyway. “You’re a pretty smart mom. I met someone in Seattle.”

  “Serious?”

  “Serious. But still figuring things out.”

  “Why’d she stay in Seattle when you came home?”

  “It didn’t seem like the right time to introduce her to the family and Hana.”

  Mom quirks a brow. “Her idea or yours?”

  I shrug. “Hers.”

  She smiles approvingly then stares out the window. “I know what your grandfather would say to that. Stop trying to figure it out and just love. No matter how impossible the road seems, the bumps smooth away all on their own when you’ve got someone you love traveling it with you. I wish she were here for you. You should have brought her home, EJ. It’s never the wrong time to need the person you love with you.”

  I nod and her face twists up. She looks like she’s about to cry again. I roll forward on the couch and take her in my arms. She tucks her face against my chest and cries harder. “I’m glad you’re home.”

  “I am, too, Mom.”

  AFTER ONE OF MY sisters gets Hana dressed for the day, I head out to the beach with my daughter in an effort to walk off some of her energy. The cars are going to be here in an hour to take us to the service, she’s antsy as hell, and in truth I’m not doing much better.

  That scene in the kitchen with my mom was intense. It’s got the wheels in my head turning, rethinking everything. I know why Willow made the decision to stay in Seattle and I know why I didn’t push harder. But maybe we both got it wrong trying to do the right thing for each other and it’s my mom who’s spot on: it’s never the wrong time to need the person you love with you.

  I can pretend we’re doing the right thing, only it doesn’t feel that way. It feels all kinds of wrong that Willow isn’t here.

  Should I ask her again to join me here in Santa Barbara? Would she do it? I just don’t know.

  Sinking down on the sand, I watch Hana skirting the edge of the surf. Every so often she peeks over her shoulder to make sure I’m still where she left me.

  One thing for sure, having Willow here won’t go over well with Hana. Then I remember it wasn’t exactly rainbows and unicorns among us kids when Mom married Alan. Ethan and I weren’t exactly thrilled with him and were outright hostile having a new man in the house. My sister Kaley acted out in her rather unique way that can still be watched twenty-one years later on the internet.

  My family was in flux, a complicated mess, at the time. They married anyway. We came together as a family.

  Maybe there’s no such thing as a right time.

  Maybe it’s one of those ideals that keeps people from having what they want in life. Stop trying to figure it out and just love—those were wise words from my mother.

  Leaning back on my arms, I follow Hana with my gaze as she kicks the frosty foam of a wave. The vision she makes causes me to smile. The hem of her dress is damp. Her hair is no longer in ready-for-the-cameras-out-front ponytail perfection. I’m not exactly sure where I left her tights and shoes, and if I return to the house without them I don’t doubt all three of my sisters are going to read me the riot act.

  But Hana looks happy.

  It may not be the right time to have brought her to the beach. My sisters can flip out all they want over my doing this, but it doesn’t matter. It’s the right time for Hana and me.

  Chapter Forty

  Willow

  I STARE AT THE flat screen on the wall. I’m mesmerized, I’ve become a twenty-four-hour news junkie, and I didn’t even know Jackson Parker.

  Eric’s grandfather certainly lived an impressive life. Jack’s years as an anti-war activist in the sixties. His contribution and legacy to music. That he’d spent the last decade of his life on the President’s Council of National Reconciliation as the Homeland Ambassador of Peace after the country descended into civil unrest because of some constitutional crisis I’d been too busy working to pay any attention to. It wasn’t my problem—we have our own problems, as Jade would say—and I focused on my life and nothing else beyond Seattle as the country around me went up in flames and protests. But not Eric’s family. Christ, the forty-eighth president credits his grandfather for helping to bridge the divide, bringing people together, and preventing a civil war. I didn’t know any of the things I’ve learned in the last week about his grandfather.

  The size of my world and my scope is so small. Even after trolling facts about Eric’s family on the internet it didn’t register in my head with this scale and significance.

  This week has brought home how much I don’t know about Eric. It’s one thing to have an idea of who his family is and what they’re about; it’s quite another to see it on live TV.

  Gee, whenever he talked about Jack, he sounded like a sweet old man, nothing more. I can’t even fathom having had such a person in my life or having to say goodbye to him in this public way.

  I hop from news channel to news channel. It’s all the same, live continuous coverage for the funeral today.

  I study the screen. Nothing much has happened in the last thirty minutes. The family still is in the house. They haven’t left for the service. But even their cars parked in a line in the driveway is news today.

  I’m aware of the voices of the CNN anchors pouring from the surround-sound speakers. But they’re only a distant buzz. I don’t hear the words. All I can focus on is watching the black cars on the screen, waiting to carry Eric to the funeral of his grandfather as I sit in Seattle waiting for a glimpse of the man I love.

  My insides churn with an array of emotions. It’s so unreal. Inconceivable to imagine living this way. No wonder full English breakfasts as takeout from five-star restaurants a
nd romantic dinners on yachts seemed like normal getting-to-know you dates for Eric. Exclusive hotels where you don’t worry you’re going to get busted if you break the rules, and keys tossed to you by a friend to borrow a car worth more than most people will make in lifetime are things hardly noted that happen in his life, no biggie.

  It’s a wonder we ever managed to connect seeing all this, that we should be in a single spot ever, let alone twice, to somehow find each other.

  My thoughts turn to happier times. Eric in Seattle. His days playing on the sidewalk in front of Mel’s. Us making love in Dad’s apartment and laughing about the paparazzi waiting on the street to pounce on him. Painting my bedroom and hanging blinds in the living room. The morning at Volunteer Park.

  Fresh tears burn my eyes and reality bleeds into my consciousness. My world falls away from me. It’s like I’ve woken up from a dream, us no longer real in the face of what I’m watching, and as if I’ve been dropped into a dark abyss where nothing seems possible anymore.

  This is his reality.

  Eric’s reality.

  I don’t belong in Eric’s world. It hurts not being with him, but it’s right I didn’t go to Santa Barbara. I won’t ever belong in this…

  The gnawing emptiness I’ve felt since he left Seattle expands some more inside me.

  “Has the funeral started?” Jade asks gently, her voice bringing me back into the room. She gives me a glass of wine and settles on the couch beside me, tugging over her part of the blanket I’ve wrapped around myself.

  “No,” I whisper, my voice faint from the large lump in my throat.

  She gives me a sympathetic look, the corners of her mouth turned downward. “It’s almost over. Then things will be back to normal. They always go back to normal, Willow.”

  Normal? Will we ever be that again? Eric’s home and I’m here. He’s him again and I’m me. A hopeless situation I’ve lived before.

 

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