William stared at his father while his view of the man as a horrible monster made a shift.
Yes, his father had been abusive, mean and hurtful. He’d done indefensible things. But maybe he hadn’t caused the death of a child after all.
Something nudged at William then. Was his view of himself as a guilty monster just as wrong?
“What about Bisky Castleman?” his dad asked.
That startled William. “She’s safe,” he said. “She left with her daughter. Nobody hurt her.”
“No,” his father said, “that’s not what I meant. I meant, what about her and you?”
William tilted his head to one side. “What do you mean?”
“Always thought you’d end up marrying that girl, close as you two were,” he said.
“I very much doubt that,” William said, although the idea of marrying Bisky filled him with a longing that almost made him breathless.
The pair next to them stood. The mother cried openly, and the prisoner-son wiped tears from beneath his eyes. He walked away slowly, turning once to wave. The woman watched him go and then turned and trudged toward the exit.
“How come you doubt you’ll marry Bisky?” William’s father asked.
“Because I screwed up pretty bad with her.”
“And? We all screw up. I couldn’t fix my screwup, but you could fix yours.”
“I’m no good for her,” he said. “I pushed her away for her own sake.”
His father shook his head. “That makes no sense,” he said. “You’re a good man. Not perfect, but good. You sure you’re not just punishing yourself for not being perfect?”
“I wouldn’t—”
“Trust me, you would,” his father interrupted. “From the time you were small, you took the weight of the world on your shoulders. Took responsibility for way too much, and blamed yourself when things went wrong. Even when those things were my fault, not yours.” He shook his head. “Don’t mess up your life and your chance at happiness, son. Give yourself some grace. And give Bisky some grace, too, if you want to. She’s a good woman just like you’re a good man.”
“Time’s up,” called the guard from the side of the room.
William’s father put his hand to the glass. William didn’t follow suit, he couldn’t. After a minute his father nodded, and then the attendant was escorting him out.
William watched him go, saw the slump of his shoulders, and knew his father was an old man.
It was enough to make anyone think. What did he want his own life to look like going forward? Would he get to the age of his father and be as alone as he was?
How badly had he screwed up with Bisky, and could he fix it at all?
* * *
ON SATURDAY, THE GUSTY GULL opened its outdoor seating because it was such an unusually warm day. Seventy-one degrees in the early afternoon, and Bisky, Amber, Erica and Ria met for an afternoon cocktail and gabfest.
They were all a little shaken, or at least Bisky was, by the events of the previous week. She was glad to get together with her friends, because she was feeling a little melancholy and felt the need to get out of her house.
After they’d all hugged and ordered summery drinks, Bisky sat back and looked at the clear blue sky over the Chesapeake Bay. “Breeze feels good,” she said.
Erica gestured out at the bike path across Beach Street. “It’s great to see Sunny so happy again, with her friends,” she said.
Bisky looked over and saw her daughter with Kaitlyn, Venus and Avery. They were walking the path, talking a mile a minute, and giggling, all wearing too-short shorts and too-skimpy tops for the weather, but that was kids.
Bisky was so proud of Sunny for what she’d accomplished with the dogfighting, even while she was mad at her for taking such risks. Mostly, she just felt grateful that Sunny was safe.
Ria was watching them too. “The girls are growing up so quickly. I’m going to miss being so actively involved in their lives. I love being a mother. Although...”
Something in Ria’s voice made Amber and Erica tune in. “Although what?” Amber asked.
Ria hesitated and blushed. “Drew and I aren’t using protection, if you know what I mean.”
“Whoa now!” Amber clapped her hands, then pumped her fist. “Baby, baby, baby!”
Erica was laughing. “As fertile as the two of you are? We’re going to be having a baby shower right here at the Gusty Gull in nine months, if not sooner.”
Ria held up a hand, smiling. “Hey, I’m not twenty-five anymore. I bet that it won’t even happen, but we both love kids so much.”
Bisky felt an unusual surge of jealousy. She had always envied Ria, a little, for her loving husband. But she suddenly envied her this opportunity to start anew on motherhood. Not that Bisky would want to do that herself, but it would just be nice to have something big, the possibility of a baby, to look forward to.
Their drinks came then, and the conversation got more general, but Bisky kept coming back to the thought.
Sunny was getting more and more independent. She’d asked if she could spend Easter with Kaitlyn and Venus, who had a plan to help serve Easter dinner and do an egg hunt for some of the disadvantaged families in their community.
Of course, Bisky had said yes. She was proud that Sunny wanted to do something like that. She’d opened her mouth to offer to help, but had stopped herself in time. Sunny and her friends were plenty old enough to do the activity on their own. They didn’t need mothers interfering.
It meant Bisky would spend Easter by herself, and that was fine. Maybe she’d cook up an Easter dinner anyway, or take a book outside into the hammock and spend the afternoon reading.
“Hey, lady.” Amber nudged her. “How are things going with William?”
“Yeah,” Ria said. “I got the impression you and he were pretty close.” She waggled her eyebrows up and down.
The good mood Bisky had been grasping at slipped away. “Not happening,” she said.
“Why not?” Erica tilted her head to one side, looking concerned.
“Oh, he doesn’t want a woman like me,” she said.
Amber raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What kind of a woman is that?”
Bisky didn’t intend to tell these women all her business, but somehow, the words spilled out of her. “Someone big and tough and take-charge,” she said.
“What would make you think he doesn’t want those qualities in a woman?” Ria frowned. “I think most men these days appreciate having an equal partner. Even macho types, like Drew.”
“Not William,” Bisky said. “The other night, at the dogfight, he made it very clear he wasn’t interested.”
Amber’s eyebrows lifted. “Are you sure?”
Bisky recounted the multiple comments he’d made. “Plus,” she went on, “did you see his ex-wife?”
“No, and what does that matter?” Erica asked. “She’s an ex for a reason.”
Bisky shook her head. “The minute she called him for help, he took off. Even though Sunny and I actually needed him.”
“Did he know that, though?” Amber frowned. “You have a way of acting like you’re totally independent and fine, all the time. Which is great,” she added, raising a hand, “but it can maybe make a man feel superfluous.”
Bisky shrugged. “He might not have known I needed him, but...”
“But what?” Erica leaned forward, elbows on the table, studying her.
Bisky sucked in a breath and then the words just came. “I would scold Sunny if she said anything like this, but the woman was tiny. Tiny and delicate and blonde... The exact opposite of me. That’s apparently what William likes.”
“Stop.” Ria jumped in. “That body image stuff can be deadly. Comparing yourself to other women. Believe me, I know.”
“True, of course,” Bisky said, and took a long draw on
her drink. “I know that.”
But she didn’t believe it in her heart. Didn’t believe William could want a woman like her, and she had the evidence to prove it.
“Self-image,” Amber proclaimed, and waved a hand for the waiter. “It trips us all up. Makes us limit what we can have in the future.”
“Well, sure, but if it’s accurate...”
“It’s not! That’s the problem. We get stuck in particular views of ourselves and it’s hard to change. Like, I thought I was nothing but a party girl. You can imagine that a guy like Paul seemed out of reach.”
“But he wasn’t, because you’re so much more than a party girl,” Erica said, patting her sister’s arm.
They ordered appetizers and another round of drinks, and the conversation went on to other things, but Bisky thought about it. Of course, Amber was more than a party girl even if she’d thought she was not. And of course, Ria had a lovely body and spirit, and her husband’s love for her was apparent every time Bisky saw them together.
Those women, smart and worthy of respect, had had mistaken views of themselves. Their men—and their friends—had helped them realize that they were more than their shrunken and negative self-images.
Bisky would have considered that could be true of her as well, but she had direct evidence from William. His words at the dogfight rang in her ears, blocking out any chance of a future together.
* * *
SUNNY WAVED AT her mother, sitting with her friends on the outdoor deck of the Gusty Gull.
“Our moms are having a little too much fun.” Kaitlyn waved up at her mom, too, who was doubled over laughing at something Amber or Erica had said.
Sunny noticed her mom wasn’t laughing. She didn’t even seem to be paying attention; instead, she was looking out over the bay, her expression thoughtful.
Mom had seemed a little sad lately, and Sunny wondered what it was about. Was it William, or something Sunny had done? She definitely had broken some rules lately, made some mistakes. She probably shouldn’t have asked to spend Easter away from Mom. When you were a family of two, you had to look out for each other.
But maybe it wasn’t about her at all. Who knew, with a mother? She rubbed Muffin’s sides, and her dog looked up at her with adoration.
“Make her do her tricks,” Kaitlyn said, and Sunny obliged, putting Muffin through her paces: give paw, roll over, sit pretty.
“You love bossing that dog around,” Venus said. “I think you figured out the right line of work.”
Sunny laughed. She was just glad Venus wasn’t mad at her anymore, that they were all friends again.
“Hey,” Kaitlyn said, pointing across the street, “isn’t that the new trainer lady?”
Sunny looked in the direction Kaitlyn had indicated. Sure enough, the trainer that had been so hard on her and William and the dogs was walking along the other side of Beach Street, her border collie in lockstep beside her. Ugh. Mary approached the woman and started talking to her. Double ugh.
Sunny had wanted to be the person Mary chose to train the therapy dogs, had wanted it desperately, but it wasn’t going to happen.
She waited for depression to hit her as she watched the two women talk, but it didn’t come. She realized with surprise that she was okay with that. She’d still be able to work with dogs, and there were different ways that could happen, and it was okay.
Mary and the trainer continued talking, and from the looks of things, it wasn’t going well. They were shaking their heads and frowning. Sunny felt a little glad in a mean way, but then pushed aside her thoughts.
She talked with her friends for a while—about boys, of course—and then Mary crossed the street and approached them. “May I speak with you?” she asked Sunny.
“Sure.”
Mary pulled her off to the side. “Are you still interested in working with the therapy dog program?” she asked.
Sunny’s heart jumped. “Absolutely! But I thought you hired that woman.” She gestured in the direction the trainer had gone.
“It didn’t work out.” Mary frowned, then knelt to rub Muffin’s sides. “We’ve decided to part ways. So, I could start from the ground up looking for another candidate, or...” She bent down and gave Muffin’s ears a rub. “I admire what you’ve done with Muffin. You’ve turned her around. William’s dog too.”
“Thanks!” Sunny didn’t think she could smile any bigger. “But you said before that we need an adult to do the program?”
“That’s still the case, so we’ll need to have an adult supervisor,” she said. “I was thinking about William, actually.”
Sunny thought about that. She’d started out with mixed feelings about William. But he’d worked really hard to overcome his fears about dogs, and he’d been amazing in helping them break apart the dogfighting ring. He was kind of funny, in an old guy way.
The other thing was that she was pretty sure her mom liked William, but for whatever reason, the two of them couldn’t seem to get it together. Maybe she could help. “I’d be glad to work with William,” she said. “I’m sure I can talk him into it. At least, if he’s staying in town.”
Mary smiled a little. “If anyone can, you can,” she said. “His time at Victory Cottage is almost up, but I’m hoping he’ll decide to stay in Pleasant Shores permanently.”
Did Sunny want that? Even if it meant he might be around her mom permanently?
She looked over at Kaitlyn and Venus, talking and laughing. She was settled in with them, settled in for these next couple of years until they all went their ways to different colleges, the military or work. She hoped that even after graduation, she could stay friends with both of them, for the next few years and beyond.
She wanted Mom to be happy, too. And if being happy meant her mom had a boyfriend, even a husband, Sunny just might be okay with that. “I wouldn’t mind him sticking around,” she said.
“Good. Come to the shop Monday and we’ll pin down some details.” Mary shook her hand, all professional, and then crossed the street and headed up to the deck of the Gusty Gull where Mom and her friends still sat.
Of course, Kait and Venus wanted to know what the conversation with Mary had been about, and she ended up telling them about the therapy dog gig and also about how William might be involved. When she said she was going to talk him into doing it, Venus laughed. “Still bossy for a cause,” she said.
“I guess I am,” Sunny admitted. “So shoot me. I get things done.”
They continued to tease her. That was what friends did.
And friends also helped you when you couldn’t help yourself. That was why she was going to help William figure out a way to get back into Mom’s good graces.
* * *
WILLIAM WAS DOING something he should have done a while ago, and he didn’t know if he was going to be able to handle it.
But now that he’d worked things out, in some kind of way, with his father, it was time to make peace with Jenna.
That was why he was just outside of Baltimore, climbing through the hilly cemetery toward her grave.
He hadn’t visited often. Hadn’t been able to. He wasn’t one of those people who thought you should visit a loved one’s grave every week or even every month; he didn’t think Jenna would care. Still, when he saw that some weeds grew along the base of her gravestone, his stomach tightened and he knelt and pulled them out.
Then, carefully, he set a container with her favorite flowers, spring daffodils, alongside the grave. He noticed that some of the other plots had spring flowers coming up naturally, and he decided that he’d plant daffodils in the fall, so they’d come up next year.
He sat and traced the gravestone’s etching with his forefinger: Jenna Gross. Gone too soon.
He closed his eyes for a moment, because she most surely was gone too soon. Cut down when she was full to the brim with life.
; He lowered his head, letting it sink into his hands. He didn’t feel like he needed to make peace with his wife in order to try and move forward into a relationship with Bisky. But he did feel like he needed to make peace with Jenna before he could be any kind of a father figure to Sunny if, God willing, Bisky and Sunny accepted him in that capacity. He wanted Jenna to know he wasn’t replacing her, that Sunny wouldn’t be his daughter in quite the same way that Jenna had been. That he’d never forget Jenna, that her picture would always hold a place of honor in his home, that he’d remember her birthday, would watch her videos, would play her favorite songs even as time moved on and those songs weren’t on the radio anymore.
“I’m thinking about starting a scholarship in your name,” he said. The words sounded rusty. He wasn’t the type to talk to a dead person.
But this was Jenna. Jenna, who had been so bright, and so social. Jenna, who had already decided she wanted to attend a Big Ten university so she could join a sorority and go to the football games.
She’d never get to do that.
But William still had his half of Jenna’s college fund, still in the college fund account. He hadn’t been able to make himself withdraw it. Now, he would build on it, maybe even do a little fundraising, and start a scholarship to be given yearly to one of the dock kids, to help them get started as he had been helped.
He told her about it. He called up her favorite song on his phone and played it, and the memory of her singing along in her slightly off-key voice brought tears to his eyes.
He regretted every moment of impatience he’d shown her, every time he’d been too busy to play basketball or dolls with her, even though those moments had been few and far between. He hadn’t treasured her enough. But he had treasured her a lot, had shown her a lot of love.
And he’d always regret, terribly, that he had left her alone on that last day. But he had come to realize that it was more bad luck than his fault. Still, he told her he was sorry.
And then it was as if he could hear her voice, only it was a little mixed with Sunny’s. “Dad, you can’t be with me every minute. I’m fine staying home alone. Everyone does it.”
Home to the Harbor--A Novel Page 25
