by Tracy Brogan
Tag shifted in his seat and glanced around the restaurant. “There is another project I was interested in, but this isn’t the best place to discuss it. I can give you the specifics later, when we’re alone, but the bottom line is, if you like it, and I think you will, I think you should take the lead.”
“Why wouldn’t you take the lead? You’re the one who’s been here for a month already and gotten to know your way around. Shoot, according to walleye-vision Patty over there, you even have a favorite booth at this restaurant.”
Tag shifted again, and Ryan could swear his dad’s cheeks flushed red under that tan, and that made Ryan start to heat up, too. Something was off.
“I told you I’m working on some future plans of my own. Ryan, I guess there’s just no easy way to say this. I’m thinking about retiring.”
Ryan felt his jaw go slack. “Retiring? You can’t retire.”
Tag’s sudden smile was sympathetic. “Actually, I can. And I’m thinking of buying a house here, maybe moving to the island permanently.”
This time Ryan’s jaw nearly hit the pink laminate tabletop. “Move here? You can’t move here. Is this all because of the woman you met? Bryce said there was some woman.” It sounded more like an accusation than he had intended, but his dad was talking crazy, and the Taggert family didn’t waste time on hidden agendas. It was part of what made them so successful in the industry. Everyone always knew the plan and knew where they fit in, but obviously his father had been keeping some big-time secrets.
Tag glanced around again and then ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. This time the blush was obvious. He looked like a teenage boy coming home after curfew instead of the CEO of a multi-million-dollar company. He chuckled self-consciously. “Bryce is right. There is a woman. I like her. She likes me. Birds and the bees kind of stuff.”
Those pancakes stirred in Ryan’s gut, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the notion of his father having romantic feelings for some woman or the fact that he wanted to explain it with a birds and bees analogy.
“Okay. That’s okay. You’re entitled to that, I guess. I understand you wanting some female companionship, but why would you retire and move just because of some woman?” There was that tone again, but he couldn’t seem to help it.
“She’s not just some woman, Ryan. She’s very special. And very beautiful. You’ll think so too when you meet her. Trust me.”
Ryan had nothing against older women, but he doubted he and his father used the same scale. Plus, there was the whole potentially a gold-digging bimbo aspect to all of this. “I’m sure she is, Dad, but the pieces still don’t fit. Why retire? Let’s start with that.”
“I want to retire because, first of all, I just want to. I’ve earned the break. And second, she’s lived here all her life and wants to travel, but I can’t travel and still be an active CEO of the company. You and your brothers are more than capable of running the company without me.”
Without him? “Dad, if she wants to travel, then take her on a vacation. Shoot, take the rest of the summer off if you want to, but don’t retire. You’re not thinking this through. It’s all very sudden.”
“I’m sure it seems that way to you because I haven’t talked to you boys about things much lately, but it’s been hard, you know? I didn’t want to burden anyone, but I’ve been having a tough time adjusting to your mother being gone.”
Ryan’s chest tightened. “That’s no secret, Dad. We knew that, and we know it now, so what do you need from us support-wise? Because you know we’ll give it.”
“Then support me in this. I’m going to retire and buy a place on this island.” Tag sat up a little straighter in his seat, almost defiantly, as if he, too, was just coming to grips with the reality of what he wanted.
Where did support end and enabling begin? The line here seemed razor-thin. “Yeah, okay, anything but that, Dad. It’s too extreme. Like I said, take a vacation. Buy a little place here and come back anytime you want. Go buy yourself a damn airplane if that will make you happy, but you’re too young to retire. The company does need you, plus you’ll go stir-crazy inside of a month. I know you will.” Ryan was already getting twitchy, and he’d only been here an hour. Maybe it was all the pink. Or the fact that his father had completely lost his marbles.
His father’s smile was somehow both patient and patronizing. “I won’t go stir-crazy. I’ve been here for a full month, and I’m not the least bit bored. When I’m not working, I’m busy all the time. Do you know what I do? I hike. I swim. I kayak. I watch birds. Not sissy birds like chickadees and shit like that. The big ones, like hawks and eagles. The majestic ones.”
Bird-watching? His father was bird-watching? “You can’t watch birds full time, Dad. That’s something you do for an afternoon when there is literally nothing else to do and someone is holding a gun to your head. It’s not an occupation.”
His father chuckled, as if he enjoyed the process of convincing Ryan of all the reasons he should throw away his career for some island floozy. “Of course it’s not an occupation. That’s sort of the point. It’s a hobby, and they are beautiful creatures. What I’m trying to say is that I’ve been getting regular exercise since I came here, and I feel better physically than I have in years. I sleep great. Up with the sun. I’m regular.” Tag patted his chest with pride, as if predictable bowel movements were a real victory.
The more his dad smiled, the more frustrated Ryan became. Was this a joke? Was Bryce behind it? Because that’s the kind of thing his brother would do. Let’s send Ryan on some wild-goose chase to some Podunk island and tell him crazy shit until he figures out it’s a hoax. Being the youngest of three brothers, Ryan was a constant target of their pranks, but as near as he could tell, his dad’s story was . . . legit.
“I’m glad you’re feeling good, Dad. Really, and I’m sure there are some great bird sanctuaries in California for you to check out and some awesome places to do that other stuff, too. You don’t need to move here for that.”
His dad went on blithely as if Ryan hadn’t even spoken.
“Did I mention I even go biking? Can you picture it? Me on a bike?”
“No, I cannot.”
“Me neither, until I tried it. Turns out it really is just like riding a bike.” He chuckled at his own joke. Ryan did not.
“Guess what else I do.”
Those pancakes were flipping themselves in Ryan’s stomach as he recognized the dare in his father’s voice. His father was challenging him to ask. Ryan gave in with one big sigh. “What else do you do, Dad?”
Tag leaned back in his seat and stretched one long arm across the back of it. His chin lifted defiantly. “I square-dance.”
Ryan sat motionless, waiting for the punch line. Surely there was a punch line. None arrived. “Square-dance?” he finally choked out.
“Yep. That’s where I met her. Every Wednesday evening down at Saint Bartholomew’s Catholic Church they have square dancing. She was there the first night when I arrived on the island, and we’ve gone back a couple of times since.” He leaned forward and put his elbow on the table, as if to fully capture Ryan’s attention. As if he hadn’t already. “The truth is, son . . . I like to do-si-do. I like to promenade. Sometimes I allemande left. Sometimes I allemande right. What are you gonna do about that? Huh?”
Ryan fell back in his seat. “What the fuck has happened to you?”
Tag burst out laughing. “Call me crazy if you want to, but it’s true. I’m having fun. I’m relaxed. I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen in love, and I’m not interested in apologizing for it, or trying to analyze it, or even worrying if people think I’m a silly old man.”
His father was in love? After a month? That stirred up a ruckus in Ryan’s gut for sure, but he wasn’t certain if it was due to the speed at which this relationship seemed to be traveling, or because it felt like a betrayal of his mother. He’d have to figure that out later. “No one wants you to apologize, Dad. We’re not going to judge you.” None of that was a
ctually true. He and his brothers would totally judge him because he was talking like a lunatic, but it wouldn’t be prudent for Ryan to pick a fight with his dad in the middle of this little pink, pig-filled diner. His best bet was to handle this like he would handle a dense client. Slow and steady breaths. Voice calm. “But put yourself in my shoes, Dad, and tell me how you think it looks. I’ve never known you to take a vacation or even a sick day, and all of a sudden you’re ready to give up your job as president and CEO of the company you founded for some woman you just met. Just so you can travel and . . . and square-dance? Don’t you see how that’s a little drastic?”
Tag knew the ploy and responded in kind, with the same calm, slow manner. It was irritating. “You’re answering your own question, Ryan, and you’re exactly right. I never took a vacation. I never took a sick day. I worked my ass off and pulled you boys in to work with me just so I’d have time to see you. God bless your mother for putting up with my schedule. I wish I’d figured this out when she was still alive. I would have taken her on that trip to Europe that she always wanted.”
“She went without you.”
“I know, and she spent a shitload of money to show me just how mad she was about that, too.” Tag chuckled softly, then sobered a bit. “Life is short, Ryan, and I’m starting to realize that I wasn’t that great of a husband. I guess I wasn’t that great of a father, either.”
More crazy talk. Crazy, crazy talk. “Of course you were a great father. Do you think we’d all be working with you now if we felt otherwise? Would I be sitting here arguing with you about retiring if I wanted to stop working together?” Seriously, what the hell was his dad talking about?
“I’m glad to hear you say that, son, but I sort of dragged you into the business. I don’t remember ever really asking any of you boys what you wanted. I just assumed if I was having fun, you must be having fun.”
“We were having fun. We’re still having fun. I love my job.”
“But if you gave it up tomorrow, what would you have?” Tag’s face was earnest, and his question stumped Ryan into a momentary silence.
After a pause, Ryan said, “Give it up? Why would I do that?”
“Just try to imagine it. What else have you got in your life besides your job? When’s the last time you had a really good, meaningful conversation with someone that didn’t revolve around the job? Or more importantly, when’s the last time you had a truly healthy, satisfying relationship with a woman?”
More gut churning. “Are we back on that birds and the bees stuff, Dad? Because I think that bell’s been rung.”
Tag shook his head. “I’m not talking about great sex. Although great sex is, well, you know. Great sex.”
Ryan took a moment to wonder what those bucket cakes were going to look like when he upchucked them back onto the table. Meanwhile, his dad kept on talking.
“I’m talking about something meaningful to your soul. Something . . . spiritual.”
“Spiritual? Dad, what the hell did they do to you down at that Catholic church?”
Tag laughed again. “Not that kind of spiritual. I just mean, you know, deep. I don’t know how to explain it if you haven’t felt it yourself. I did have that with your mother for nearly all of our marriage. There were a few times when it got rough, but we always worked through it, mostly thanks to her. We understood each other. We were a team. Have you ever had that with a woman, where you look at something and you see exactly the same thing?”
“I don’t know, Dad. You’re talking in circles here. I think all that hiking has given you altitude sickness. You didn’t ever fall down on one of those nature walks, did you? Maybe lose consciousness for a few minutes?”
His father smiled broadly. “You think I had a stroke out there in the woods?”
“Maybe. All I know is you’ve gone completely off the reservation here, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Nothing. Just enjoy your breakfast. Enjoy your time here. Let yourself relax, and you’ll start to see why I like it here so much. Trust me.”
Nothing good ever happened after someone said trust me. Ryan took a deep breath and wondered if this place served alcohol because he could use a shot of Jack Daniel’s right about now. “Dad, Bryce and Jack expect me to talk some sense into you and to convince you to finish up your project on this island and come back home to Sacramento. What the hell am I supposed to tell them?”
Tag took a slow sip of coffee, staring at Ryan for a moment. “Tell you what, son. You brought some vacation clothes, right? Some shorts and some T-shirts? Some comfortable shoes?”
Ryan had brought a couple pairs of basketball shorts to wear in case he found time to go for a run and a handful of white T-shirts to go under his dress shirts. He’d been planning on working for most of his stay. “Technically, sort of. I have running shoes.”
“Okay, we’re going to go to the store right now and get you some good hiking boots. Then we’ll head out and hike to the top of Bent Rock. It’s a good workout, and it’s the best view of Petoskey Bridge on the entire island. You’re going to enjoy it, I promise. The Lilac Festival starts this weekend. They tell me that’s a big deal around here, so we’ll go to that, and the next day, we’ll go for a bike ride around the entire island. It only takes a couple of hours. Or we could go see Fort Beaumont. We’ll do all the stuff I should have done with you when you were a kid, and I’m confident that if you let yourself relax, you’ll come to understand what I like about this place.”
“You’re not going to make me square-dance, are you? I think I really have to draw the line here someplace.” If his dad tried to make him wear a cowboy hat or cowboy boots, well, that just wasn’t going to happen. No amount of concern over his father’s welfare was going to prompt Ryan to promenade.
“I will not force you to square-dance, but I might strongly encourage you to give it a try.”
Holy shit. His dad really had cracked under the pressure if square dancing and something called a Lilac Festival could get him so excited. Ryan needed to think. He needed to strategize, but his only hope for the moment was to go through the motions. If necessary, he’d go hiking and biking and humor Tag until he came to his senses of his own accord. It couldn’t take that much longer. Maybe his father hadn’t gotten bored in the month he’d been here, but eventually he’d miss the thrill and the satisfaction of work. He’d miss negotiating the deal and the sense of accomplishment that accompanies a job well done. He’d miss the corner office looking out over his city.
And hopefully that shiny new woman would lose her luster, too, because she seemed to be the thing that really had him confused. But what could they possibly have in common? She’d grown up on this tiny island. Realistically, how long could you talk about how majestic a bird was? This was all just a phase, some sort of grief-triggered existential crisis. His dad would get over it, and life would go back to normal. Ryan needed to make sure of it.
Chapter 5
Like nearly every house on Ojibwa Boulevard, Brooke Callaghan’s was surrounded by a white picket fence. Purple lilac bushes bloomed nearby, and the front stone path was lined with pink and white petunias. The whole place had a sweet, welcoming quality. Emily’s older sister? Slightly less so.
It’s not that Brooke was unfriendly. She was just frugal with her displays of affection. At thirty-five, she was only four years older than Emily, but somehow the age gap had always felt wider. Probably because it was Brooke who stepped up and took care of the house after their mother died. No one had asked her to or expected her to. She just did it because it needed to be done. She’d often been the cushion between Emily and Harlan, too. She still was. In fact, if it weren’t for Brooke, they probably wouldn’t be speaking at all.
It was a mixed blessing, really.
Chloe trailed her fingers along the tips of the fence as Emily and Gigi walked behind her on their way to dinner. The screen door of the homey little house opened onto the front porch as they got closer, and Brooke stepped out. “Take
your time, people. I’ve only been waiting all day to see my niece.”
Chloe giggled and skipped forward, on up the steps to hug her. “Hey, Aunt Brooke. Thanks for the book you sent me on my birthday. I really liked it.”
Brooke hugged her tightly, then leaned back from their embrace. “Who are you? You can’t be Chloe. You’re much too tall.”
“It’s the vegetables. Mom always makes sure I eat the vegetables.”
Emily tried to think of a time she’d had to tell Chloe to eat her vegetables, but none came to mind. Still, she was glad to know Chloe thought that was the rule.
Emily climbed the steps next, feeling a flood of sweet emotions. Brooke had done a lot for her, and she’d never really said thanks. Not that Brooke would even let her. They didn’t have a mushy-gushy, let’s braid each other’s hair kind of relationship, but maybe this summer Emily could display a little subtle gratitude. She definitely owed her sister that.
“Brooke! I’m so glad to see you.” She flung her arms wide with enthusiasm, deciding there was no time like the present to start being a kinder, gentler version of herself.
Brooke, pragmatic as ever, offered back a tight but perfunctory hug that left Emily wishing for a little more. Just a little bit more. Her sister quickly took a step back to observe her, head to toe, just as she had done with Chloe. Then nodded. “Yep, I figured. You look as great as always.”
Though Trillium Bay attire in the summer was almost exclusively sundresses and shorts, Emily was wearing a pair of pale gray dress pants and a white shirt with a floaty chiffon ruffle on the front. It wouldn’t have been considered dressy in San Antonio, but Emily suddenly wondered if it was a little much for a family reunion dinner. She’d wanted to look nice. And professional. And not broke. She most especially wanted to look not broke, but her sister was wearing denim shorts and a red T-shirt that said Geology Rocks on the front, so Emily probably could have toned it down a bit.
