by T. I. Lowe
“I’ve never been good enough for my father . . . I didn’t just let my country down, but I became a disgrace to him. It was so bad that my momma put August up to trying to talk me into moving here. My own parents didn’t want me anymore.”
Opal’s hand stilled in his hair. “Oh, Linc. Surely that’s not true.”
“It is.” He swallowed as the stinging hit his eyes again. “The pain and shame after that first surgery was too much. And each surgery and recovery following, it got worse, so I started taking heavy pain meds to combat it.”
“That’s understandable—”
“No, it’s not. I started using them to get away from my dad and not the pain. . . . I was staying with my parents, and he made it his job to make each day a living hell. Pointing out what I did wrong, what I should have done differently, and how I needed to suck it up and get my act back together.” Lincoln scoffed and shook his head. “All this from him before I was even allowed to walk yet. And once physical therapy started, he was there for every session to bark orders at me and constantly degrading me in front of my therapists, doctors, and anyone else he could.”
“I’m sorry he treated you like that.”
Lincoln’s head snapped up and met her watery gaze. Their conversation had started out docile enough, but the look she was giving him that matched her words was enough to have it careening into hostile territory. His lip snarled back as he spat out, “Don’t you dare pity me!”
“I don’t! But I do find it to be a pity that you’re letting your father’s actions tear you and your family apart.”
“Not his actions. Mine!” Lincoln slapped himself hard in the chest. “It’s on me.”
“I don’t understand.” Opal finally dropped her hands away and took a few steps back down to stand in the sand, putting some space between her and his anger.
“Before coming here I was at my lowest. For months I stayed high on pills to stay numb to the world and didn’t much leave my bed. Momma begged me to go to this family reunion. She finally guilted me into going, but I was too weak to do it sober. Took so many pills I barely knew I was in the world.” Lincoln used the collar of his shirt to wipe his face as he took several jagged breaths.
“So you stumbled around and embarrassed your family?” Opal guessed.
Lincoln dropped his shirt and shook his head. “No. Pills . . . they didn’t really have that kind of effect on me. I wasn’t sloppy and falling down. More so, I was a zombie, but it also brought out a beast of anger in me. When I was high on them, I couldn’t contain all the hurt and would lash out. That day at the reunion my father took it upon himself to shame and ridicule me each chance he got.”
Opal took a step forward but remained in the sand with her arms crossed. “How?”
Lincoln looked away from her and trained his eyes on the ocean waves. “All that day different kinfolk kept coming up to me. They thanked me for serving our country, wished me to get well, most feeling sorry for me. And all the while my old man was quick to shoot it all down. He gave me a dressing-down about my wrinkled clothes, my long hair, my beard . . . I was unacceptable. And then in the midst of my grandfather retelling about my first tour where I saved a few civilians from a roadside bomb, Dad interrupted it to berate me for botching my last mission. Said it served me right to have my leg ruined . . .”
Opal’s arms uncrossed and reached for him, but Lincoln jerked out of her reach. She gasped but didn’t make another move to touch him.
“Dad kept slinging the insults about me until I lashed out . . . one punch . . . right in front of our entire family. Broke his jaw in a few places . . . All that anger exploded out of me in just one punch . . .” Lincoln shook his head and held up his index finger, still not believing he struck his father with so much malicious force that it sent the strongest man he’d ever known to the ground. “I somehow made it home, packed a bag, and ended up here . . . The guilt’s been eating me alive ever since.”
“Well, I think it’s time for you to soldier up and go make things right with your father.”
When Lincoln said nothing one way or the other, Opal surprised him by simply leaving with no theatrics. He could hardly believe that she had nothing more to say after his confession. One sentence and she was done. Maybe seeing the truth of him and his failures was finally enough to have her hightailing it. It was for the best. He knew she deserved a better man. Didn’t make the sting of her rejection any less painful, though.
After a fitful night’s rest, Lincoln knew there was no other choice but to do as Opal had suggested. The sun had barely begun its rise by the time he had the Jeep loaded up. He took a minute to sit on the bench by the door one last time before leaving it behind.
Pulling up to Growler’s Bait and Grocery to grab a soda and a pack of Nabs for the road, Lincoln’s mind was on the journey ahead and didn’t notice one of the last people he’d want to run into. He had one foot already out of the Jeep before spotting Josie and wondered if he could load back up without her spotting him. Giving it a go, he eased his leg back inside and was about to close the door when the tall blonde turned and caught sight of him. She had that little lady Miss Dalma with her and both were dressed in fishing attire. Well, Josie wore a T-shirt and baggy jeans, but the lady was wearing a bright-yellow fishing bib and a hat filled with fishing hooks. She started pulling Josie in his direction in a flash, seeming rather nimble for a senior citizen.
“You beat the chickens this morning, young man. You going fishing too?” Dalma smiled pleasant enough, but he wasn’t feeling it.
With a quick getaway not being an option, Lincoln let out a weary sigh and climbed out. “No, ma’am. I’m heading out of town.”
“What?” Josie asked, somehow managing to stutter the one word.
“I’ve made a mistake back home and I need to go sort it out,” Lincoln muttered while rubbing the back of his neck.
“This sounds like a conversation over a cup of coffee and a donut.” The old lady climbed into his Jeep before he could figure out how to deter her.
“Whoa, Miss Dalma.” Josie beckoned her to get out, but Dalma buckled her seat belt in response.
“It’s early enough, the donuts will still be warm at Sunset Sweets. Don’t that sound good, honey?” Dalma asked Lincoln as if Josie wasn’t trying to pry her out of the seat.
Nothing sounded good, but he had no idea how to get the lady out of his Jeep that didn’t require force. If anything, he could ditch them as soon as she climbed out at the donut place.
Josie gave him a rueful smile and quietly said, “Sorry.”
“Follow us,” Lincoln ordered in a resigned tone. There wasn’t enough energy or fight left in him for it at that point. His plan was to drive over and barely slow down enough to let Dalma out before hightailing it out of town.
“What have you been running from?” Dalma asked as she fiddled with his radio, settling on some Southern rock station.
Lincoln opened his mouth to refute her question, but a confession fell out before he could catch it. He poured his heart out about what had gone down in Beaufort, emphasizing his nasty habit with the pain pills and how it escalated into the fight with his father. He could hardly believe he’d just spilled all that to a stranger, but she kept nodding her head like she understood and patted his arm every so often when he’d choke up.
Lincoln parked beside the donut shop and shut off the engine. “I’m supposed to be a Cole. A good Christian soldier. Not a pill-popping lowlife who can’t control his fists.” Instead of exiting or kicking Dalma out, he leaned his head back and let out a shaky sigh.
“You’re certainly not the first Christian to flub up, and you won’t be the last. . . . David was a scoundrel. You know that, right?”
He rolled his head in her direction and squinted. “Ma’am?”
Dalma waved a hand, trying to shoo away his confusion. “Moses was a murderer, King David committed adultery with a lot of pretty awful following that choice, and Peter flat out denied his Maker. God allo
wed them a second, third, and fourth chance. And eventually those thickheaded fellers got it right.”
“I’m not sure my father will be open to giving me another chance.”
“I don’t know your father, but I had a daughter, God rest her soul, and any time she made a mistake or defied me, the most hurtful part was when she would shut me out. I’d imagine your father is probably more disappointed about you shutting him out.”
“I broke his jaw!” Lincoln threw his hands up.
“Does he love you?”
Lincoln scrubbed his palms down his face. “I think so.”
“Then he’ll forgive you, but you have to go show him you’re sorry. Don’t be too prideful.”
“That’s why I’m heading home to make things right with him.”
“That’s a great idea.” Dalma opened her door. “I don’t know why you’re wanting to lollygag with getting donuts when you have more pressing matters to get to, young man.”
“Wait. Do you . . . ?” He pushed a hand through his hair and tucked it behind his ear. When she turned to look at him, he asked hesitantly, “Do you have any advice for me before I go?”
Dalma tapped her chin with her index finger with a gaudy ruby ring on it, which was the last thing Lincoln thought went with fishing gear. “If you can’t tie a knot, tie a lot.”
Lincoln blinked at her retreating form. “Come again?”
“Don’t pay that last part any mind,” Josie spoke close to Lincoln’s ear, startling him.
He angled around and found her standing by his open window. “I need to hit the road.”
Josie made no move to step away from his door when he cranked the Jeep. “Please tell me Opal knows you’re leaving.” She looked over her shoulder to make sure Dalma made it safely inside the shop. “Have the decency to let Opal know.”
Lincoln gripped the steering wheel. “It’s the only way. A clean break, or I won’t be able to handle walking away.”
Josie redirected her attention to him and clucked her tongue. “You? What about her?”
“Opal’s so much stronger than me. She was the one who set this into motion. She had to have known this would be the outcome.”
Josie waved off his excuse. “I need to get in there to Miss Dalma before she orders who-knows-what. Just go fix your family and your leg. Then come back here ready to fix things with Opal.”
“I can’t make any promises, but I’m going to do my best.”
“That’s all I ask.” Josie took a step back. “Now go on so you can hurry back. No hem-hawing around.” She motioned for Lincoln to get on with it.
“Will do.” Lincoln settled in the seat and tried settling into the path he was about to take.
Three hours later, Lincoln saw the sign for Beaufort. It welcomed folks and let them know it was a historic location that had been established in 1711. As he passed it, a sermon he’d heard several times growing up came to mind. Sure, his and his father’s situation was a good bit different from the Prodigal Son and his father, but the basis was eerily similar. Both sons had left behind a ruined relationship with their fathers, and after time passed and they digressed lower and lower, they’d both had to humble themselves and come home to ask for forgiveness.
Lincoln turned off the main highway and onto a narrow two-lane road, lined with ancient oak trees dripping with silver moss. It would lead him home within six short minutes. He could only hope his father would be as forgiving as the one in the Bible.
16
Opal knew before even stepping foot inside the beach cottage that it had been deserted right along with her. After Lincoln’s confession the day before, she sensed it. He’d reached his limit. The problem was not knowing which direction he’d run. She hoped his path would lead him home to his father and then back to her, but that was probably hoping for too much.
She got no further than the tiny foyer before stopping, her gaze catching on the bench wedged beside the right of the door. A small dusting of sand in two distinct piles underneath it drew her attention, evidence that a few pairs of shoes had been kept there. The vision of Lincoln sitting on the bench to put on his shoes had a sad little smile pulling at her lips. It was hard to decide whether she was disappointed or relieved that he’d left it behind. Was it because he didn’t want it, or was he planning to return to it?
Opal reached over and lifted the lid. It was empty except for the powdery-white sand dollar she’d given him the night of their first back-road cruising. The wish she shared with him over the shell whispered to her.
“I wish that wherever you end up finding yourself, you’ll remain intact. You’re one rare find, Lincoln Cole, just the way you are.”
Opal brushed her fingertip over the smooth surface of the shell and decided to leave it there, hoping it was a clue that Lincoln would eventually return for it. And her.
She glanced at the wall clock that hung behind his recliner and sighed. She loved her Sand Queens meetings but just wasn’t feeling it at the moment. Pulling her phone out, the thought of texting a cop-out was mighty tempting. With another sigh, she shoved it back into her pocket and headed out.
Today’s meeting was going to be held on the back deck at Driftwood Diner with a few more joining the girls. Glancing at the lonely-looking cottage one last time, Opal got into the old car she’d inherited from her great-grandmother and made the five-minute drive over to the diner. She found Josie and Dalma at the deck table with Sophia, Collin, and Ty.
“Sorry I’m late,” Opal said, a little out of breath. She made her way around the table, offering quick hugs to everyone except Collin. She picked the little guy up and dotted kisses all over his sticky face. “Yum! You taste like a pancake!” She smacked her lips, sending the toddler into a fit of giggles.
“Ofal!” Before she could protest, Collin reached down and came back with a fork full of dripping pancake. She had no choice but to accept the bite and the syrup dribbling down the front of her peasant blouse.
“So good,” she garbled out before sitting him back in his high chair. “You’re a special little man to have Mr. Jasper make you pancakes for lunch!”
Everyone at the table laughed. Everyone, that was, but Ty. Mr. Star Athlete was too busy studying his phone. In designer sunglasses, a hat pulled low on his head, and wearing workout gear, he was still larger than life sitting out there on that deck. And from the second glances of everyone passing by, there was no doubting people knew it was none other than the Ty Prescott.
Collin reached over with another mushy forkful and said in toddler gibberish, “Dada. Eat.”
Ty didn’t even bother to look up. Just leaned out of reach and mumbled, “No can do, buddy. Wasted carbs.”
The little guy took it in stride and moved the offering to his momma. She started to accept it as Ty spoke in a distracted tone. “Mommy doesn’t need the wasted carbs either.”
Sophia’s smile wobbled as she kissed the back of Collin’s pudgy hand. “You eat it, baby. Jasper made them just for you.”
Opal felt they needed a conversation change before she told Ty exactly what she thought of him, so she brought her attention to the little fisherwoman in her bright-yellow fishing bib and a floppy hat covered in shiny lures. “Miss Dalma, have you been fishing today?”
Josie swatted the air. “No. Miss Dalma decided to ride her bike to Growler’s this morning. They gave me a call to fetch her after she started rearranging the drink and bait coolers.”
“Why were you doing that?” Sophia asked, her perfectly sculpted eyebrows pinching together.
“I figured it would be easier to have your soda pop right beside the bait. You know, one-stop shop and be on your way. But looks like I’m the only one to think so.” Dalma clucked her tongue while swiping an onion ring through a mound of tartar sauce.
As Opal unwrapped the covered plate waiting for her, Josie leaned close and whispered, “I’m here if you want to talk about it.”
Opal picked up a wedge of lemon and focused on squirting it in her
glass of iced tea while trying to figure out how Josie already knew. “I appreciate that, but not now.”
“What was that?” Sophia asked as she handed Collin his sippy cup. Even in yoga pants and a formfitting tank top with her hair tied back in a neat ponytail, the brunette was the epitome of poised and polished.
“Nothing,” Opal said and immediately took a bite of her shrimp salad sandwich.
Josie and Sophia both watched her suspiciously and seemed to be ready to pounce on her, but Dalma let out a hiccup of a burp and sent the women snickering instead. Even Collin giggled.
But not Ty. He was too enamored with his phone to notice anything else. “I need to get in a workout.” He stood while tapping out a text.
Opal jumped to attention. “Sophia, why don’t you go with Ty and get a workout in with him. You know . . . have some alone time with your hubby.” She winked at Sophia. “I’ll take Collin down to the beach and see if the ocean can get the sticky off of him.”
Collin bounced in his high chair and clapped his pudgy hands.
Sophia shook her head. “Not today, baby.” She looked over at Opal. “I had him at Doc Nelson’s office before coming here. Poor baby has an ear infection, so we have to get his medicine filled and then we’re heading over to my parents’ house.”
“Oh no . . .” Opal reached over and combed through his baby-soft curls. “I’m sorry you feel bad. We’ll go another time soon.”
“What did that old geezer mean when he told me, ‘Ain’t nobody studyin’ you’?” Ty inquired in a lame attempt at a mocking Doc Nelson, showing he was at least half-listening to the conversation going on around him.
Dalma cackled, sending her glittery lures to dancing along her hat. “He was telling you—”
“Doc just meant we needed to focus on Collin. That’s all,” Sophia answered over Dalma.
Opal smiled to herself, loving the way Doc Nelson had chided big ole Ty Prescott about thinking he was all that and a bag of chips, and he didn’t even know it.