“I’m fairly certain you’re entitled to have a moment or two. What Grady said, those were hurtful words. I don’t think you’ll find one person out there who wouldn’t have done what you did.”
Brooklyn went to the window. More people had shown up, and she spotted Carly right in the mix of everything. She was thankful Jason was nearby because she would need someone to tend to her if she started coughing again. Who she didn’t see was Grady, Graham, and Bowie.
“I think he’s married.”
“And you care, why?”
She shrugged. “I shouldn’t care, but I feel like we’re dancing around each other, flirting. I almost kissed him, and if he’s married . . . I don’t play that game, Ren. You know that.”
“Ask him.”
She shook her head and sighed. “It’s just old feelings creeping back in.”
Rennie joined her at the window, and they leaned against each other. “The people down there, they mean well.”
“Carly hates that they do this every year, and she’s not a fan of the town having the street fair during this time either.”
“It started after he died, right?”
Brooklyn nodded.
“I’m sure whoever started the fair meant it to be a celebration and not so much a mourning. Which makes it hard for them to move on. Give the lost fisherman a statue, but leave it at that.”
Brooklyn laughed. Earlier, when they were downtown, she had come across a statue of a fisherman. She had stood there, looking at the bronze man, wondering if it was Austin. That would make the entire town of Cape Harbor officially certifiable, but thankfully it was the first man to be lost at sea from town. They were honoring him as well, along with many others; they had just chosen to do it all on the day Austin had set sail and never returned.
“I don’t get it,” Brooklyn said as she continued to watch the people gather. “They’ve done this every year, and not a one of them knocked on the door to see if Carly was okay. If it weren’t for Simone, she probably would’ve died.”
Rennie clasped her hand with Brooklyn’s. “I think you and Brystol saved her. Simone was just doing your job until you could return.”
She shook her head and let the tears she had been holding back fall. “I don’t want to stay here and give up my job, but I also don’t want to leave, because I see what stability is doing for Brystol. She’s happy here. She socializes with everyone. Normally when I’m on a job, she barely speaks to my crew, and now she’s on a first-name basis with everyone. Bowie’s crew dotes on her. And that damn dog.” She paused and sought her daughter out. She was sitting off to the side with Luke right next to her, almost as if he was guarding her. “She wants a home, and if I stay here, I can give that to her.”
“What are you afraid of?” Rennie asked.
“Giving up the life I’ve built. Being Brooklyn Hewett and not Austin Woods’s girlfriend. You know how long it took me to come out of my funk, to realize that for years I allowed him to push his identity on me. I worked hard to get where I am, to make a name for myself.”
“No one is saying you have to give that up, B. You can still be Brooklyn Hewett Designs; you’ll just have a home base. Maybe you don’t travel as much, or maybe you live with Carly, and she takes care of Brystol while you work.”
Rennie was sounding more and more like Carly every day, and Brooklyn hated it because they were right. Roots were the foundation for growth, and Brystol needed some.
“I think we should go outside.”
“I’m embarrassed,” Brooklyn told her friend.
“In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never known you to be embarrassed. Play it off, call it a teenage temper tantrum, spurred by Grady. Ha ha, he’s so funny. Don’t let his drunk ass ruin things for you.”
Brooklyn knew Rennie was right, even if she hadn’t wanted to admit it. In hindsight, Brooklyn should’ve given Grady a dose of his own medicine. Not that it would’ve done anyone any good.
Rennie pulled Brooklyn out of the house, down the wooden steps, and back into the fold. Graham was there first, hugging Brooklyn and telling her how sorry he was for Grady’s outburst. She thanked him, spoke to a few of the people who had showed, and finally made her way over to where Brystol sat with Luke. She knew the town was about to light off fireworks and would rather be with her daughter, honoring her father, than with her friends remembering the man she had lost.
“Get him the hell out of here,” Bowie yelled at Graham, who was desperately trying to push his drunken brother toward the stairs. Bowie turned, almost in circles, looking for Brystol. As much as he wanted to run to Brooklyn and apologize, his concern for Brystol was greater. He found her, standing on the outside of the group with Luke by her side. He was incredibly thankful for his dog and his affection for Brystol. He went to her, expecting to ask if she was okay, but she fell into his arms and buried her face in his chest. Bowie held her and placed a kiss on the top of her head, hoping to provide a bit of comfort until her mother came back.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said to her.
Brystol stepped back. “Who was that?”
He sighed. How could he explain Grady to her? Sure, he was still Bowie’s friend, but not like they had been when they were growing up. Since Austin’s accident, they had drifted apart, mostly due to what Grady had witnessed. The Chamberlains should’ve sought help for Grady after the disaster, but like most, had felt their son was okay. That couldn’t have been further from the truth.
“Grady . . .” He paused and thought about how he wanted to approach the conversation. He looked at Brystol and saw her mom in every aspect of her features. He remembered Brooklyn, young and full of wonderment when she had first moved to Cape Harbor, and he saw the same in Brystol now and felt like she would understand what he was about to say. “Grady was with your dad when the accident happened, and he just hasn’t recovered very well. He struggles with his demons sometimes.”
“Why’s he so angry with my mom?”
He shrugged because he was confused as well. “I’m not sure. His outburst caught me off guard. I’ve never seen him act like that. I think—”
“He has a drinking problem.” Brystol threw the issue right in Bowie’s face, leaving him no choice but to nod. “It’s okay. My grandpa says that sometimes people can’t help themselves.”
“He’s right.”
“Maybe your friend will get the help he needs before it’s too late.”
Maybe. Maybe if everyone around town stopped enabling him. “I think he would probably appreciate it. Come on—let’s go check on your grandma.”
They made their way over to where Carly sat, along with Jason. The two were chatting away as if nothing was amiss. Brystol sat next to her grandmother, who pulled her into an embrace.
“My sweet B,” Bowie heard the older woman say. Even though Brooklyn had left Cape Harbor, he was thankful she’d had the presence of mind to make sure Carly was a part of Brystol’s life. He could see the love and admiration they had for each other. Brystol kissed her grandmother on the cheek, then called for Luke and separated herself from the group. He kept an eye on her, waiting to see where she was going and whether he should follow her. She took a spot on the sand, far enough away that she wouldn’t have to listen to the adults talk. He wished she had a friend here to keep her company and mentally went through his employees, trying to remember who had children her age.
When Brooklyn and Rennie came down the wooden stairs to rejoin the group, Rennie came toward where he sat while he watched Brooklyn. She went right toward Brystol and sat beside her in the sand.
Without a second thought, he went to them. As he approached, Brooklyn smiled softly at him while he mouthed that he was sorry. They would have to speak about what happened later, when Brystol wasn’t around, and he hoped by then he’d have a few answers from Graham.
Bowie took the spot next to Brystol, looked at his watch, and pointed to the sky. “Your father loved fireworks,” he said to her. “Watch
.”
And as if on cue, the sky lit up with red and blue sparks. Everyone oohed and aahed. Bowie wasn’t interested in the fireworks, though; he was studying the women next to him as they watched the display. He knew that they were going to change his life; he just couldn’t figure out how.
When the fireworks ended, Carly called for Brystol. She told her mom and Bowie good night, gave Luke one last pat on his head, and ran toward her grandma.
“I think we’re being set up,” Brooklyn said to Bowie as she watched Simone, Carly, and Brystol disappear into the darkness.
“Want to go for a walk?”
She did but didn’t want to come off as eager, so she pretended to think about it for a moment. Bowie, it seemed, had other ideas. He stood and reached for her hand. “What about Luke?” she asked.
He held up his other hand, showing her Luke’s red leash. “He’s hooked up. It’s too dark for him to run around without supervision.”
Brooklyn took his hand but let go as soon as she stood, then wiped the sand off the back of her shorts and fell in step next to him. They walked until the dry sand turned wet and then turned toward town.
“A setup, huh?”
She shrugged, but there was a good chance he couldn’t see her. The moon wasn’t overly bright, and there were very few bonfires on the beach at the moment. “I think this whole thing is a setup. She wants me to stay, mostly for Brystol, and I think Carly feels that if I’m back with all my friends, the decision will be a no-brainer.”
“Is it?”
“No, it’s not. I’m confused, especially when it comes to you.”
“Why is that?”
She stopped in front of him and searched for his eyes. “Are you married?”
She expected him to take a step back, to put some distance between them, because she was sure she’d called him out on this little tidbit. Not that he had to tell her, but she felt like it was something he should’ve said to her by now, but he surprised her by stepping forward and placing his hand on her hip, just above the waistband of her shorts. His fingertips pressed into her skin, causing her to shiver.
“I’m not married, but I was. Our divorce will be final in a few months. They day I saw you, my world spun on its axis. I met my ex at the diner only to find out she was giving up her claim to alimony because she was getting remarried. We haven’t been separated nine months, and she’s already engaged to another man. At first, I was pissed because she’s been taking my money, all while she’s with this other guy, and then I realized I was going to be a free man in three months, so all was okay. The day became gradually better when I got the call about the inn, and as much as I wanted to be angry that you came back, I couldn’t be.”
“Okay,” she said quietly. Divorced, she could handle.
“Okay, what?” His hand moved from her hip to her hair, where he gently pushed the loose strands behind her ear.
She shook her head, unable to come up with a proper response. She couldn’t make a commitment, not to him, and not to living in Cape Harbor, and she didn’t want to waste Bowie’s time with the back-and-forth going on in her head. However, denying her feelings for him was becoming harder and harder.
“You’ve been flirting with me.”
“And you have with me.”
She couldn’t argue with him there. “You’re easy to be around. Our relationship—the one we had before.” She paused and gathered her thoughts. “Sometimes it feels like we could have it again if we tried.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to rush into anything and then leave, and I don’t want the opportunity to pass by either.”
“You’re not staying?”
Brooklyn held her head high and said, “I don’t know yet.”
They stared at each other, both lost in the darkness with the waves pushing toward the surf. They were at a standstill, neither of them moving until Bowie cupped the back of her head and pulled her toward his lips. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away.
“Don’t. Don’t do that.”
“Why not? What the hell are you so afraid of?”
She sighed. “You. I’m afraid of what you represent.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The past. Austin. This place. What we did.”
“Get over it.”
She threw her hands up in the air and scoffed. “Easier said than done. You aren’t reminded of the damn past every time you look at your daughter. You aren’t living in a house that is a shrine to the man that died on the night we . . .” She paused and took a deep breath. “I live with this guilt.”
“And you think I don’t?”
“I don’t know what you live with, Bowie. I’m not here.”
“You’re right,” he said, stepping toward her. “You’re not here. You bailed when shit got bad. You left us all to pick up the pieces as if they were only ours to pick up.”
“And what? You think I should stay and live with everyone hating me? Like Grady?” She shook her head. “No thanks.” She turned away from him, but he wasn’t having it. “Stop,” she said when he stood in front of her.
“I’m not the enemy, Brooklyn. Your thoughts and memories of the past are, and yet you treat me like I’ve done something to hurt you when all I’ve ever done was be by your side and love you from afar. What happened between us had nothing to do with Austin’s decision to be reckless that night.”
“If we hadn’t fought—” She looked away.
“If you hadn’t fought that night, it would’ve been the next night or the one after that. The two of you were heading in different directions; you were from the start. Neither of you were willing to admit it because you were comfortable. Believe me—I get that. But to blame yourself, to blame me, it’s not right.”
“I know,” she said quietly.
“If you know, then give me a chance. Give us a chance.” He pulled her hand up to his chest, and she could feel his heart pounding for her. “As much as I hate to admit this, but seeing you, after all these years—my feelings are back. In fact, I’m certain they never went away, just dormant, held down by regret, guilt, and anger. Can you honestly tell me that you don’t feel anything for me?”
She shook her head, which confused him greatly.
“Help me out, B. I’m a simple guy and need words.”
Brooklyn laughed, although it sounded more like she tried to hold back a sob. “My feelings for you haven’t changed in all these years. I’ve thought about you every day since I left. There were so many times when I picked up the phone to call you but could never press the last number. I didn’t know what to say or how to apologize because telling you that I’m sorry didn’t seem like enough. I made a mistake the day I left you, and I’m sorry.”
His cheeks pulled so wide they started to hurt. “I’d like to take you out or at least have you over to my place for dinner. I’m not asking for much, B. Just a chance to see if what we were going to build together is still there.”
“It’s still there,” she told him. “At least for me.”
“Me too.”
“Okay.” She covered her face. “You must think I’m a moron. Yes, dinner at your place or wherever sounds great.”
He chuckled. “And I’d like to take Brystol fishing.”
“I think she’d like that.”
“What about you? Do you want to come?”
She had a feeling he already knew the answer, but she gave it to him anyway. “That’s a giant nope on my part.”
“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “I figured as much.”
They walked back toward the bonfire where everyone still sat. She excused herself and went back to the house. If she’d stayed, she would’ve had a beer or two, and she didn’t want to be responsible for what she did or what words came out of her mouth. It was better for everyone involved if she wasn’t there.
TWENTY-TWO
For the first time in years, Carly felt alive. She sat
in front of her vanity, brushing her hair as she listened to the laughter down below. Austin’s friends had come out to honor him once again, and she was thankful to have been a part of the celebration this time. Many people she didn’t know or couldn’t remember had come out, but his core group of friends was there, right along with his daughter. It hadn’t escaped her notice either that Bowie had chosen to sit with her girls. She had watched them through the night, and if she hadn’t known better, she would’ve called them a family. Every so often, Bowie would point at the sky, and Brystol would pay attention to whatever he was saying to her. When Carly wasn’t focused on them, she stared out over the ocean, trying to pinpoint the spot where her son had perished as the embers from the fireworks disappeared into the water. As much as she hated the continual merriment, she loved that everyone came together for her son.
She looked at her aging skin and felt sad. Since Brooklyn and Brystol had returned, she’d noticed how old she’d gotten over the years. Carly pulled her skin, trying to erase the wrinkles that had taken over her life in the last fifteen years and for a brief moment saw the woman she used to be.
And she missed her.
She missed the person she used to be. The one who took care of everyone, who opened her heart and welcomed strangers into her home, the one who loved fully and subsequently lost everything. She missed the old days when her days were filled with laughter and her nights occupied by the sound of the ocean crashing on the shore and the taste of a nice chardonnay. After her husband and son had passed, she couldn’t remember what it was like to feel arms wrapped around her, not until Brystol had understood what a hug was and could hold her grandmother in her tiny arms, and now she wanted one every day. From her granddaughter, the woman her son had loved, and his friends.
The inn was coming back alive, thanks to Brooklyn and Bowie, and Carly felt it was time to really give it her all. She would invite Austin’s friends for dinner. She wanted them gathered around her table again, and she would make it a weekly event. Maybe on Sunday, after church services. And yes, she would go back to church to reconnect with the people she had long shut out, with her friends from the community. Seeing a few of them downtown earlier had shown her just how much had passed her by. She would host a card game, maybe start a book club and invite the new winery in Skagit Valley to host a wine tasting in the ballroom.
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