Leave it to her dad to put the color back in her face. It irked her to no end that he’d assume that she had no memories of her mother or that her leaving so abruptly hadn’t left a scar. How many times had she, as a little girl, wondered if she’d caused her mother to leave, even if Nana had assured her that wasn’t the case? Besides, Nana had been like both a mother and grandmother to her. More of a parent than John Rivers had been, for sure. He had always put his work first, whether it was when he was town mayor or, now, as a real estate investor. For him, life was about money and success. All he had ever cared about were Mandi’s grades and future career.
Sure, he had given her a roof and had read her bedtime stories when she was younger, but when it really came to parenting, it was Nana who had stepped in and picked up the pieces after her mother left. Nana had been the one to offer emotional support through all her growing pains and the pitfalls of dating. She was the one who instilled confidence in Mandi, assuring her she was pretty during the awkward teen years, taking her clothes shopping or even just holding and comforting her when she had missed her mom and felt confused. Her dad had always been too preoccupied with work to realize that parenting involved so much more than providing food and shelter.
It’s different when you’ve been around someone day in and day out your entire life and then, suddenly, they’re gone.
Was he also trying to point out that she hadn’t been around Nana on a daily basis the past few years? As if that would make her miss her grandmother any less? She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from lashing out. It wasn’t the time, or place. Nana wouldn’t want them fighting. She cleared her throat and fidgeted with her keys.
“I miss her, too. I, um, was planning to drive myself to the funeral home. In fact, I was just about to leave. We can park near each other and walk into the service together. I’d really like to have my car there, so that I can go for a drive afterward.”
What she really meant was that she needed a getaway car if things got overwhelming. Nana used to lovingly call her “my little hermit crab” because, for all her talk about making it big in the world, Mandi always needed downtime. She had the soul of a hermit, Nana would say. Sometimes she’d find her solace by reading upstairs in her nook and sometimes it was a sandy spot, hidden by tall grasses, overlooking the sound side of Turtleback. Her mind flipped back to the lighthouse and the time Gray whisked her up the spiral stairs to the top and they sat for hours watching the sunset. He had been quiet enough for her to find peace, yet comforting, with his hand wrapped around hers and his special scent enveloping her. It had been the day after she had finished her online degree and her dad had not shown up to the “graduation” dinner Nana had made for her and a few friends. His only reaction to Mandi’s telling him she’d finished her bachelor’s was, “Good for you. Now figure out what to do with it.” He had always dismissed her so easily, especially when she accomplished something that had not stemmed from his advice.
“Nonsense,” he said, running his hand along an old, chipped bowl that was the color of the wet sand along the surf.
The piece of pottery had been passed down for generations. It had belonged to Nana’s great-grandmother, who in turn had claimed it had made its way to her from a line of ancestors in the Algonquin tribe. Something about the way John Rivers touched it sent a streak of cold down Mandi’s neck...as if Nana herself was protesting. No doubt that bowl was worth a lot, assuming it really was antique, but it needed to continue its journey through generations of family. Mandi’s father wouldn’t see the value in that. He glanced over at Mandi. He did look tired. She knew he loved them both. It was just that his love seemed so misguided at times.
“I really want you to come with me, Mandi. You drove all yesterday. Besides, didn’t you used to hound me about the environment? Car fumes and fuel, etcetera...? Come on. Grab your purse or we’ll be late.”
He put his hand on her shoulder to ease her toward the door. She was too tired to fight him on this, as much as she wanted to.
“Fine. After you.”
She followed him out, pausing only to close up behind her. A breeze tousled her hair over her eyes as she waited for him to unlock the car doors with his fob. She pushed the hair out of her face and stilled. There was Gray on his motorcycle, helmet turned so that he was undoubtedly staring right at her from the crossroad near the house. He turned away, revved his engine and disappeared down the road.
“Are you getting in?” her father asked, glancing back toward the road. He made no effort to mask his irritation. Mandi tipped her chin up and gave a quick shrug, as if the sight of Gray or the sound of his Triumph engine failed to stir anything in her.
“Yeah, sorry. The wind was blowing my hair and I was just thinking of getting a scarf, but never mind. Let’s go before it’s too late.”
Go before it’s too late.
That’s what she needed to do. She’d stay for the funeral and then get out of town as fast as she could. Being this close to Gray was dangerous. She couldn’t risk everything she’d worked so hard for—her independence, career...and finally getting over him. Being near Gray would only reawaken old feelings. Emotions had a way of confusing a person. She needed to stay on track. Grayson’s life rested in Turtleback...and she simply didn’t belong here anymore.
Copyright © 2019 by Rula Sinara
ISBN-13: 9781488039768
Snowed in with the Single Dad
Copyright © 2019 by Melinda Wooten
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