by Kayla Perrin
As Hunter stood tall, he turned. Within an instant, his eyes connected with hers. She waved, then started toward him.
He walked to meet her. His lips pulled in a grin when he neared her, but it didn’t reach his eyes. She hadn’t known him all that long, but it was clear to her that he was stressed.
“Thanks for coming,” he said. “Sorry I had to go through your friend to get to you. I left yesterday without getting your number. And Joe’s out of the office.”
“Did you want to see me about the letter?” Lorraine asked.
“Among other things,” Hunter said.
“Did you want to find a place in the park? Though it seems fairly busy to—”
The jolt to her body came out of the blue. She cried out as she was flung forward. Hunter’s arms went around her instantly, catching her before she fell.
As Lorraine steadied herself in his arms, her brain registered what had happened to her. Someone had bumped into her. She followed Hunter’s line of sight to the back of a teenager who was riding on his skateboard like a speed demon.
Hunter looked down at her, concern in his eyes. “You okay?”
Lorraine drew in a shaky breath. She nodded. “Yeah. How did that kid not see me?”
Hunter grimaced. “Some of these kids. I swear, it’s like they’re in their own world.”
“Maybe we should sit outside of the park,” she suggested as yet another kid on a skateboard whipped through the crowd. She pointed to a vacant bench near the road’s edge, then started toward it.
Lorraine sat, and Hunter sat beside her. He looked out at the people passing by for several seconds before he spoke. “I used to come here with my dad. With my family. City Park was a favorite of ours.”
Glancing at him, Lorraine nodded. “It’s a beautiful spot.”
“My mom used to love to go to the koi fish pond. Is it still there?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s a favorite. Everyone loves going there to feed the fish.”
“I never realized how much I missed this place until I returned,” Hunter said softly.
“How long were you gone?”
“Sixteen years,” he said, then glanced away. “I needed to get away.”
“From your father?” Lorraine surmised.
Hunter nodded. Then he watched a young boy and his father stroll by hand in hand. His jaw flinched. “I hope you’ve thought more about what I said yesterday,” he said without facing her.
“Hunter...” Lorraine let out a soft sigh. “I really don’t know about keeping the store.”
Hunter faced her. “If I’d been some random guy you’d never met, would you be so ready to give up on your dream?”
She couldn’t answer him, because the answer was obvious. So she asked a question of her own. “Why do you care what I do with my life?”
“Because I owe it to my father.” Hunter lowered his head, his shoulders slumping. Lorraine could see the conflicting emotions in his body language. “I should have been there for my dad. I’m never going to get that time back. Even before I read his letter, that was eating at me.” He paused. “And then when he gave you that gift... What he did made it clear to me that he was compassionate and kind, qualities I forced myself to believe he lacked. I’ve been trying to process so much, but the one thing I’m certain about is that his dying wish was to help you. And that’s why I want you to keep his gift, Lorraine. Because of my father.”
An unexpected wave of emotion washed over her. She felt for this man, who was clearly hurting because he’d lost his dad. She wanted to not care, but she couldn’t.
The Hunter she’d met in the bar had stoked her desire. The one she’d met in the lawyer’s office had made her feel lower than dirt. Right now, this one was exposing his vulnerability. He was laying his heart bare for her, and Lorraine felt her defenses lowering.
“Just...think about it,” he said.
“All right,” Lorraine said softly. “I won’t make a decision yet. With Joe out of town, I can’t, anyway.”
She paused, and looked at him until he met her gaze. “Whatever your father said in the letter, and whatever happened in your relationship with him, please, stop beating yourself up. I can see that you’re hurting. What I said to you... The truth is, I was out of line. I don’t know what happened between you and your dad. I don’t know the dynamics of your relationship. It wasn’t right for me to get on your case for not being there for him.”
“But I should have been.”
“Your father loved you, Hunter. I could tell he was torn up about the distance between both of you, but he never once blamed you for it. I said what I did because...well, because I was hurt by what you thought about me. But I’m happy to put that behind me if you are. Please, let’s just wipe the slate clean.”
Hunter’s jaw tightened. He said nothing.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked gently.
Hunter turned away from her. He was in pain, that much was obvious. Why had he called her here if he didn’t want to talk?
She put a gentle hand on his back. He drew in a heavy breath, and after a few seconds he turned to face her.
“Thank you,” he said. “For what you said about my father. That means a lot.”
“For what it’s worth, I really liked him. He seemed genuinely like a good guy to me.”
Hunter’s eyes suddenly narrowed. “You were close. I’m surprised I didn’t see you at the funeral.”
“I got tired of reading obituaries a long time ago. I prefer to remember my patients as I knew them. I hate funerals.”
“Who doesn’t?”
“Plus I feel weird about going to the funerals of my patients. I don’t want to intrude on a family’s intimate grief.”
“I get it.” Hunter paused. “It was small, just at the funeral home. Me, a couple of my dad’s family from out of state.”
“So he had more family than the brother he was on bad terms with?” Lorraine asked.
“Yeah, there were more. He wasn’t close to them. I’m surprised they showed up.”
“They should have shown up while he was alive. Sorry—I should keep my opinion to myself. It’s just... Your dad had no one.”
“He had you.”
Lorraine’s eyes widened when she met Hunter’s gaze, and he offered her a small smile. “That’s sweet of you to say.”
“All any of us can do is try to learn from the past. I think my dad had a habit of keeping things inside. He’d rather be quiet than confrontational. The problem is, it made him seem aloof, uncaring.”
“And you don’t think that now?”
Hunter shook his head. “No. Not anymore.” He pursed his lips, deep in thought. Then he asked, “You want to see where he’s buried?”
The question came out of the blue. And yet, it was something that had crossed Lorraine’s mind before. That if she knew where Douglas was buried—if he’d been buried—she wouldn’t mind paying her respects.
“Unexpected question, I know. But I feel like going there right now. Would you like to go with me?”
“Wouldn’t you rather be alone?” Lorraine asked.
“I’d rather you come with me.” Hunter shrugged. “You’re the last one who spent any real time with my father. I mean, unless you don’t want to.”
“Actually, I’d very much like to know where he’s been laid to rest.”
“You want to go in my car, or follow me? It’s the cemetery across town.”
“I’ll follow you,” Lorraine said.
* * *
Half an hour later, Lorraine pulled into St. Joseph’s Cemetery behind Hunter. A couple of times during the drive, she thought she would lose him when a car or two slipped in front of her. But she’d still been able to see Hunter’s sleek BMW and catch up with him without in
cident.
St. Joseph’s Cemetery was large and vast and sloped up the hillside. It spanned at least a few acres, and for Lorraine to try to find Douglas’s grave in here would have been near impossible.
Hunter took his time driving along the narrow road that wound through the graveyard. Large oaks and other trees lined much of the roads and perimeter of the property, providing shade. Hunter slowed as he neared a number of cars parked along the edge of the gravel road and the grass. A funeral was in progress. Lorraine glanced to the right, taking in the sight of the mourners dressed in black, many of them with arms around each other for support.
Lorraine swallowed, thoughts of her own mother’s funeral three years earlier filling her mind. The familiar sense of sadness, coupled with the undeniable anger, came rushing back. Her mother, who’d been diabetic, had made huge gains healthwise years ago, only to return to her old ways in her later years when she’d lost her willpower. Her mother had started saying things like “You can’t live forever” and “May as well enjoy the one life you have.” But while she’d said those words, Lorraine was pretty certain that her mother hadn’t expected to die at fifty-six. And surely if she had known the void she would leave in the lives of those who’d loved her, she would have taken her health more seriously. She’d told a friend about the flu-like and nausea symptoms she was experiencing, but not Lorraine, probably because she knew that Lorraine would have lectured her mother about eating right. Unfortunately, those symptoms were precursors to the fact that her blood sugar was out of whack. Her mother had lapsed into a diabetic coma, and living alone after her divorce, no one had been able to help her.
Hunter slowed his car and stopped, and Lorraine pulled up behind him. She drew in a deep breath, trying to clear her mind of the memories of her mother’s senseless and preventable tragedy. Of course, that wasn’t easy to do when she was at the cemetery where her own mother was buried.
Hunter got out of his vehicle and started onto the grass. There was a fresh mound of dirt topped with a bouquet of white roses about ten feet away.
Lorraine exited her car, watching Hunter steadfastly. He didn’t even glance over his shoulder as he made his way over to the new grave.
He stood there looking down at the fresh dirt, as if he couldn’t believe that his father was in there. Lorraine knew the feeling. She stood beside him, saying nothing.
“There’s no headstone yet,” Hunter said. “Just a marker. I’m having something designed for my dad, but I’m not 100 percent sure yet what to put on it. I was thinking perhaps a verse that he liked.” He looked at Lorraine. “I thought that maybe you could give me an idea?”
“Me?” she asked, unable to hide her shock.
“Did my dad ever share any Bible passages that meant anything to him?”
“No,” Lorraine said. “Sorry.”
“You mentioned he liked you reading to him. Any particular books?”
As she looked down at the white roses and fresh dirt, something came to her. “Actually, there’s something your father said to me more than once. Now that I think about it, it must have meant something to him. He was reading the teachings of Buddha. He was dying, and I guess he was searching for some sort of spiritual enlightenment. Anyway, he quoted this more than once—‘No matter how hard the past, you can always begin again.’ I thought he was talking to me about my marriage, how it had fallen apart and I’d gone through hard times. But maybe those words meant something to him? Maybe the only thing standing between him and beginning again was the fact that his time was running out.”
Lorraine saw Hunter’s Adam’s apple rise and fall. His eyes closed for a moment too long. Then he said, “My dad had reached out to me. He left me a few messages. Didn’t say why, just asked me to call him. He never told me he was sick. Maybe he was trying to start again.” Hunter’s voice cracked slightly. “I denied him that.”
“More than once, you said that your father didn’t tell you he was sick. But you visited him at the hospice, didn’t you?”
Hunter’s expression was grim as he nodded. “I was called by staff at the hospice when his condition took a turn for the worse. It seems kind of crazy, because when I found out, I immediately quit my job and returned home. Suddenly, I was ready to be there for him, but what took me so long? That haunts me now.”
“At least you got to see him before he died. Be grateful for that.”
Hunter looked at her askance. “You’ve lost someone close to you?” he asked.
“Yeah. My mother.”
“How long ago?”
“Three years. Diabetes eventually claimed my mother’s life.”
Hunter looked at her in confusion. “I thought you said that she was cured of her diabetes.”
“She was. Until she wasn’t. And that’s what makes her death harder to accept.” Lorraine looked toward the members of the funeral party. They were beginning to disperse. “Maybe she was depressed. She didn’t want to live alone, so she let her health slide. I’ll never really know, because she didn’t speak to me about it.” Lorraine faced Hunter again. “Sometimes, even when you are on speaking terms with a loved one, they don’t tell you everything. My mom ultimately slipped into a diabetic coma, and no one was there to get her out of it. I only found out later from a neighbor that she complained about feeling flu-like off and on for a number of months. But she didn’t go to the doctor. Hell, if she wouldn’t go to a doctor, she could have at least come to me. I’m a nurse, for heaven’s sake. When I think about it, it infuriates me. She had complications with diabetes before. Why didn’t she consider the possibility again? But no matter how upset I get, it won’t change anything for her.”
“That’s why you want to help others so badly, isn’t it? Because of your mother?”
“Yeah,” Lorraine said softly.
Hunter slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her against his side. “I’m sorry,” he said.
Despite the seriousness of their conversation, her skin warmed where he was touching her. Hunter was incredibly sexy, and everything about him drew her to him.
“Thanks,” Lorraine said.
Hunter released her and looked down at his father’s grave once more. “I had a twin sister. She died in a fire.”
Lorraine’s eyes flew to his. “Oh, Hunter. I’m so sorry.”
“She was sleeping over at a friend’s place. And that night of all nights, the house burned down. No smoke detectors. They all died.”
“Oh, my God.”
“We had the perfect family until then. Then everything went to hell. My parents became distant, my dad was closed off emotionally. Then my mom died a few years later and my dad got involved with another woman almost immediately, some young woman he tried to bring into the house to be a surrogate mother to me. I hated her. Well, maybe hate is a strong word, but I truly resented her and wanted nothing to do with her. And I hated seeing my dad laugh with her and shut me out, as though all that mattered to him was his new life. It seemed to me he forgot about my mother and my sister, buried them, and that was that. Wiped his hands of them.”
“I’m sure he didn’t feel that way,” Lorraine said. “But that must have been hard for you to deal with as a kid.”
“It was. His relationship quickly ended. Lasted almost a year. I think that woman was just a gold digger who was looking for a house and a man to take care of her. She had no real interest in me—maybe because she could tell I didn’t like her. Anyway, I was glad when it ended, but my dad quickly found another woman, and that really solidified for me the fact that I wasn’t a priority in his life. It was like I didn’t matter to him anymore.”
“Or maybe when he looked at you he saw what he lost. His wife, your sister. Maybe he was doing everything in his power to escape that devastating reality.”
“Yeah. That’s pretty much what he told me in his letter.” Hunter droppe
d onto his haunches and felt the fresh dirt with the tips of his fingers. Then he glanced over his shoulder at Lorraine. “It was something I considered when I got older. One day it kind of hit me, maybe my dad behaved the way he did because he couldn’t cope. Or that was the only way he could cope. But he’d shut me out, pushed me away and had done nothing to try to make our relationship work. By the time I was eighteen, I was leaving Ocean City. He didn’t try to make me stay. In fact, when I told him I was leaving, he made plans to move in his current girlfriend. The way I saw it, he was happy for me to be gone.”
“He said he had a lot of regrets in his life. I’m sure he was talking about you, your mother and your sister, and how he handled everything.”
“Maybe he was.” Hunter stood. “It was hard for me. I was young, and I needed my father. And the bottom line is he wasn’t there.”
“Sadly, he paid the ultimate price for his actions. He died without you at his side. But I’m sure it meant the world to him that you saw him before he passed.”
“I just wish he’d told me he’d been sick when it would have made a difference. When we would have had more time.” He exhaled sharply. “But at least he wrote me this letter. It answered a lot of questions.”
“Then I’m glad you got the closure you needed.”
Lorraine’s stomach tightened as she felt a wave of emotion. She understood the pain Hunter was going through. Losing a parent was crushing, and in this situation she could just imagine it was even worse. She’d felt devastated—and angry, to be honest—when her mother had passed. Ultimately, she felt that she had failed her. That she hadn’t spent enough time with her. That her new marriage had caused her to neglect her mother in some way.
“I got married a year before my mother died,” Lorraine said, feeling the need to share this fact with Hunter. “I saw my mother less and less. Talked to her less and less. We were close, and yet I still wasn’t there for her when she was getting sicker. So I know exactly what it’s like to lose someone you love and have regrets.”
“I think we both need to forgive ourselves.” Hunter placed his hands on his hips. “Mind if I have a few minutes alone with my dad?”
