Salt Water Wounds (Oyster Cove #1)

by Jennifer Foor

  Thinking about it is bittersweet. I’d love to have our family grow, but I know the moment I see that first newborn it’s going to kill me, because it’s not fair that my late wife never be able to hold the child in her arms and promise to be there to watch them grow. For every first I’m going to have to hold in my emotions to keep my children from thinking I’m not happy. I’ll have to be resilient, holding my pain and anguish in like I’ve done so many times in the past seven years, eight years if you count the illness and her being on her deathbed.

  Not a single day goes by where I don’t think about that woman and how much we all miss her. This talk is going to piss some of the kids off, especially Bristol. That girl will probably never get over not having a mother around. She needs her. There are things I have no business teaching her, and because of that she’s had to turn to the boys girlfriends, or friend’s mothers. It kills me inside knowing I’m incapable. She resents me. Out of all my kids, she’s the one I’m missing a connection to. My little girl, my most precious creation, and she wants nothing to do with me. It’s enough to make a man wish he didn’t wake up in the morning.

  The first time she said she hated me was on her thirteenth birthday. She wanted to invite boys over, but her brothers and I weren’t having it. Instead of making the best of a sleepover with ten screaming and overdramatic teen girls, she ended up sneaking in the boys after we’d all gone to sleep. They all piled in her room, and proceeded to sneak cigarettes and sip on warm beer they’d each managed to steal from their parents. I’m sure half of them walked or rode their bikes, so I can only imagine their pockets being filled with aluminum cans until they were bursting at the seams.

  At any rate, Brant Jr. woke me out of a dead sleep and told me he heard male voices, at the same time Weston started yelling waking the rest of the house up. By the time I made it to Bristol’s room, boys were jumping out of her second story bedroom window to keep from being caught. Her room was full of smoke, and the empty cans were stacked on her dresser.

  Irate and unable to calm down, I let my sons handle making sure all the boys left the property, and then made Bristol call every single parent to come pick up their daughters well after midnight.

  I’ll never forget the way it felt when she got up in my face and said those words. “I hate you. You ruined my life!”

  She never asked for another birthday party, not that I would agree to one. I swear she’s been distant since that day, but with her hormones going crazy with puberty, and those mood swings I don’t know the first things about being able to understand, I made myself scarce. I stayed out of her way, hoping one day she’d learn to appreciate all I do for her.

  It’s yet to happen. Now she’s a bitter little bitch, who will stop at nothing to give me a full head of grays and high blood pressure.

  Weston and Brantley are the first two I see walking down the pier. They’ve got their specialty fishing rods over their shoulders and seem to be cutting up about something as they approach. “Morning.” I greet them.

  “Family meeting on a Sunday. What’s up, Dad? Everything okay?” Brant asks.

  I shrug and take the rods so they’re able to step on board. “We’ll talk when everyone gets here.”

  “Come on,” Weston whines. “We’re the oldest. Give it to us straight.”

  I smirk. “You’re right. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to tell you two what’s been going on. I’ve decided to start seeing someone.”

  Weston interrupts. “We all know about Alice Perry, Dad. Small town. People talk.”

  “Well, we’ve called it off and agree to be friends, but in the couple days I spent with her I’m finally been able to feel like it’s time I made some major changes in my life that will affect all of us as a family.”

  “You’re selling the business and moving to Florida aren’t you?” Brant assumes.

  “Hell no. Have you seen that state during hurricane season? I’m not moving or selling the business, but I’m thinking about branching out into something else. What would you say if I gave the two of you the reigns of the company?”

  “We do all the work now,” Weston teases.

  “Yeah, right. I’d still do the office work, the billing, the taxes, but you’d run all the boats and the employees.”

  “So you’d collect a paycheck for doing less?” Brant questions.

  “I’d collect a paycheck for running the business, yes, but make less since it would be an equally family run company.”

  Weston seems confused. “Why now? We’ve been busting our asses for years.”

  “Because I’m thinking of starting a new business for myself, something I can manage as I get older.”

  “Male stripping. I knew it,” Brant jokes.

  “Yeah, right. I don’t think women tend to appreciate wrinkles and sagging balls,” I admit. “I’m interested in learning a new trade. I’m going to speak with Newton about buying the Rusty Clam.”

  They both seem shocked. “Perry’s place? Does she know?” Weston asks while Brant scopes me out for being serious or not.

  “I’ve mentioned it. It’s not set in stone. Her father doesn’t want her selling it, but I think if he knew it was me he’d change his mind. I won’t know until we talk.”

  “What does Perry say? Does she know you’re doing this? Is that why you broke it off?” Brant wants to know.

  “She knows. Perry has some personal affairs she’s dealing with. She could be moving soon, so the opportunity is right if her father allows it. He put some hefty stipulations in the contract when he gifted it to his daughter that we don’t need to get into. I just wanted you to know what could be happening in the near future.”

  “That’s why you asked us here?” Brant wonders.

  “No. When everyone shows up I’ll explain the rest. Go ahead and start the engine. We’ll wait another twenty minutes for everyone to show up and then head out.”

  “The twins had a crew over last night,” Weston explains. “They may not have gotten your message.”

  “Then they’ll miss out.” I’m not going to keep expecting all my children follow my directions. They’re adults now, and I need to accept that they don’t always have to change their plans because their father wants to have a chat. However, fishing with the kids is the only time I feel like we’re still a normal family. It’s the only place we can laugh and joke while together. I’m surprised Bristol seems to enjoy being a part of the mix, even though her brothers love to give her a hard time whenever they get the chance.

  Bristol appears first, followed by the twins. Dane is the last to arrive, and in Wallace fashion he looks hung-over. “Nice of you to join us,” I say as he boards.

  “Yeah. I’m here. That’s about all you’re going to get until this coffee enters my blood stream.” He holds the cup in the air, displaying its large size. If I had to guess, I’d say it was probably three servings in one container.

  We take the boat out to Tom’s Cove, a favorite location to catch flounder. It’s where the bay and ocean come together, so sometimes we’re lucky enough to snag small sharks. The tradition is that the person to catch the least amount, or smallest fish if there is a tie, has to filet the whole lot.

  We take our time putting out our lines, and for the most part no one seems curious why I’ve asked them to put their plans aside to spend the morning with me. It’s nice knowing I can at least share this with them. Their love of the water humbles me. I’m proud that they want to stick around on this tiny island with their dad, where the memories of their mom will always remain.

  We’ve been fishing for about an hour before I get the nerve to say what’s on my mind. I clear my throat and speak, hoping they all listen. “I think it’s time we started packing away your mother’s things.”

  Each of them have a different reaction.

  Brant stops reeling in his line. He sits down on the side of the boat and sighs heavily.

  Weston nods with a subtle smile. It doesn’t imply he’s happy, but more settled to agree
.

  Dane walks over and puts his equally strong arms around me. “I’m proud of you, Dad. I know how hard it is, and I’ll be there every step of the way.”

  The twins are passing money. Caleb looks annoyed. “Damn that was my last twenty.”

  “You shouldn’t have bet me. I told you that’s what this was about.”

  I shake my head and look to Bristol. She’s staring out at the water, pretending she’s not listening, even though I can tell from her body language that she has. When I approach I can see tears falling down her cheeks. I gently spin her around and force her to look into my eyes. “Don’t be upset, little darlin’, your mom lives with each and every one of us. It’s time we stopped living in the past.”

  “You just want to get rid of her things so you can move that slut in the house.” She shoves away from me and heads to the bow of the boat to pout.

  I turn and look around at my boys.

  “Did you expect any less?” Weston asks.

  “No. No I didn’t. She’s just like her mother.”

  “She’ll come around, Dad. Give her time,” Dane offers.

  Cooper walks over and offers a half hug. “Even if you move that chick in, we’ll still love ya.”

  There’s a guffaw and then a sigh. “Thanks.”

  “You do your best, Dad. Mom would be pissed that you haven’t done shit with that bedroom. If I were you I’d do a full makeover. You know she hated dated things. She was always rearranging the furniture.” Caleb laughs as he says it. “We’d come home from school and not be able to recognize the place.”

  “I remember,” I affirm.

  “I’ll go talk to Bristol,” Dane offers. “She’ll be fine, Dad.”

  I doubt it will happen on this day, but eventually maybe.

  We spend the rest of the afternoon talking about doing a cost efficient makeover to the house. The boys offer to pitch in some of their hard earned money to fix the kitchen cabinets, while Dane boasts that one of his friends, who happens to own a flooring company, owes him a favor. He thinks we can get both bathrooms redone at a minimal expense. Bristol doesn’t contribute to the conversation. In fact, she ignores us for the rest of the trip. When it’s time to head to shore, she stays at the bow and refuses to look anywhere but forward.

  After gathering our catch, we all head home to tally up the fish and start cooking. Out back there’s a large steaming pot hooked up to a propane tank. Next to that sits a deep fryer. I’ve spent years experimenting with spices to make my own batter and breading for these particular family get togethers.

  For the most part we enjoy the beautiful afternoon. Bristol retreats to her room and refuses to come out even to eat. The rest of us sit out back drinking beer and talking shop.

  After a case of beer, and more food than any of us should have consumed in one sitting, the six of us guys retreat to my bedroom and start rummaging. Each of my grown sons have moments where they get emotional. Cooper and Caleb take out some boxes from the top of the closet and find pictures from when their mother played sports in high school. Then they manage to retrieve their individual baby albums and that’s when we all get a bit ridiculous.

  We spend hours sitting and going through old photographs, some of which we put to the side to have enlarged and add to the walls. Dane wants a few for his apartment, so he creates a pile. I offer them each their own baby book to keep. Their mother’s words fill all the pages as she documented every single first, mostly to make sure I could at least read about it when I was away working.

  It’s tough, and but the time they begin to vacate the room I’m left with a mess, and a heavy heart.

  We’ve made progress, though it seems like it’s going to be a bit harder than tossing everything in the attic and being done.

  I try to sleep, but it doesn’t find me. Midnight comes and goes, and just as I’m about to get up and look for something to watch on the television, I hear a knock on my door.

  “Dad, it’s me. Can I come in for a minute?” It’s Bristol.

  I sit up in the bed before addressing her. “Yeah. Come on.”

  She’s got her arms crossed, her face sad and looking around at the piles of her mother’s belongings. I can tell she’s contemplating turning around and forgetting what she’s come to say.

  “What is it?”

  “Do you still love her?”

  I pat the spot beside me. “Of course I do. What would make you think that’s changed?”

  Bristol shrugs. She refuses to look at me. “All of a sudden you’re dating and getting rid of Mom’s things like you’re kicking her out. It’s not fair.”

  “Bristol, I’ll always love your mother. She was everything to me. I wish she was here every damn day. Losing her devastated this family. Don’t think for one second that I could ever replace her.”

  “I don’t want you to love someone else, Dad.”

  I sigh. “I don’t, but I can’t promise that will never happen. It’s taken me a long time to be able to look at another woman and not feel guilty about it. The truth is, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to love anyone the way I loved your mother, but I’d like to think I deserve to be happy again.”

  She’s sniffling. I reach over and rub her shoulder. “Please understand that your mother can’t be replaced.”

  “I want to. It’s just hard, especially when I saw you with that woman the other day.”

  “The other day? When?”

  “You took her on the Layla, Dad. I saw you. You held hands. You were kissing.”

  “I wasn’t aware anyone was around.” Now I feel like an asshole. Of all the people to spot us. “Alice Perry and I are friends. Right now we’ve decided to keep it that way. She’s having some personal issues and doesn’t want to involve me in them, but if something changes I’d be interested in seeing her again. She’s kind to me. She cleaned our whole house and helped me see that I could smile again. You may not understand that, but it’s true. Sometimes I need to know I’m not going to be alone forever. You kids are going to move out eventually. Where will that leave me?”

  “It hurts so much. I know you have every right to date again, but I can’t stand it.”

  “I’m sorry. I wish there was an easy resolution, but I’m afraid it’s not fair for either of us to ask the other for something like this. I promise I’ll tell you next time, if you promise to understand that I get lonely and sometimes appreciate spending time with friends.”

  “You’ve never had lady friends before.”

  “That’s not true. Perry’s been asking me out for years. I see her almost every day. She’s probably the only person who makes me smile aside from you kids. It’s different. She’s different.”

  “I hate her son. He’s a jerk. I hear he’s moving with his father. We have mutual friends that said he’s trying to get his parents back together. Did you know that?”

  “Yes. It’s part of the reason Perry called things off. She’s going through a lot. That woman has had a hard time. She’s not the enemy. She’s just trying to protect her son from a man she fears could ruin his life. He’s been in jail, and apparently beat her real bad when they were married. He went to jail for assaulting a police officer.”

  “Is he the person you got into the fight with?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why didn’t you just call the cops?”

  “Perry asked me not to. She doesn’t want to the police informed until she has enough to send him back to jail. She even said she’d put herself in harm’s way to make it happen. I wish there was some way I could protect her from that, but she’s made it clear I’m not to get involved.”

  “You must really like her.”

  “I do.” I’m not going to lie about it. “She’s helped me. I wish I could do the same for her, but she’s stubborn like your mother was. She thinks she can handle everything on her own.”

  “I’m sorry about earlier, Dad. I don’t want to lose you.”

  “You’ll never lose me, baby. Never. I’ll drop
everything to come to your rescue, always. Ever since the moment you came into this world I knew you were the most important female in my life. I’d die before I let anyone hurt you. I hope you know that.”

  “Yeah. Sometimes I get mad though.”

  “That’s okay. We all get mad. I know I’m not exactly the best parent. I drink too much. I can’t relate to female issues. I know nothing about periods, and don’t get me started on boys wanting to get with you.”

  “Jody’s a nice guy, Dad. You’d like him if you gave him a chance.” Of course she’d bring up the boyfriend.

  “Don’t push it.”

  “Seriously. He’s nice to me. He doesn’t treat me like the boys in high school.”

  “How old is he?” I’m almost afraid to know the answer.

  “Twenty-one.”

  “That’s too old.”

  “Dad. It’s four years. When I’m thirty he’ll be thirty-four. It’s not a big deal. You’re being overprotective.”

  “Of course I am. You’re my baby.”

  “I’m not a baby. I’m seventeen. Pretty soon I’ll be eighteen. I’m not going to stop seeing Jody, because in a couple months it won’t matter.”

  This pisses me off, but not because I want to be an asshole. She’s right. If I want to move forward and start over new, I have to let my children become adults. “Does he treat you right?”

  “He does. He brings me flowers and draws me pictures. He takes me places and never asks for a penny.”

  I stop her before she can talk about what else he does for her. “Fine. Bring him to dinner. Let me have a chance to get to know him.” I’m cringing inside just imagining how it’s going to go, but I have to do this for Bristol. In order to repair our severed relationship I need to find common ground with her. “If you agree to be nice to whoever I want to spend time with.”

  She sighs. “It’s a deal.”

  She throws her arms around me. “You’re going to love him, Dad. You’ll see. Thank you for this.”

  I’m taken back by her reaction, elated to feel her appreciate me. At the same time, I’m freaking out.