I shrug. “True. I guess I don’t know, but I wish I did. If I understood the issue, I wouldn’t feel so unappreciated.”
She takes a drag, her eyes never leaving mine. “Stop beating yourself up over it. You’ve done what you could by making sure his body got home safely. Beyond that, there’s nothing more you can do.”
I nod. “I know.”
“Then stop beating yourself up over it. She can’t come after you, and no amount of money will replace her husband, and no amount of money will make her any more grateful, and you’ll be that much poorer. Besides, she may never stop blaming you.” She turns from me, placing her hands on the railing, looking out over the water. “Look at those bitches from the sinking. Twenty years, a few thousand dollars, and they’re still blaming me and bitching me out. Though, they’ve never had a problem taking my money, they’ve never expressed even an ounce of gratitude for it.” She takes another drag and exhales. “As much as I want to fight them, argue with them about their hatred for me, it’s absolutely pointless because they will never hear anything I have to say. Let alone care. They’ve managed to drill it into themselves that I am guilty, that I’m to blame. There’s nothing I can do to change that opinion they have of me. No matter what I do, I will always be their enemy.” She sighs, “I’m okay with that.”
“But are you really?” I ask her.
She shrugs. “Do I have much choice?” She takes another drag and blows it out before continuing, “I looked it up, after I got home two years ago. I figured out, based on what you told me, who they are. Turns out that two of them have college degrees because of me and my foundation. The third one’s brother has a job because of Bearded Bean and her children are attending private schools here in Seattle because of my scholarships. All in all, more than 300 thousand dollars, and it’s still not enough for any of them.” She takes a deep breath. “No amount of money you offer her will make her grateful. She’ll simply take it and continue being pissed off at her station. Some people are just that way, and there is nothing either one of us can do about it.”
I nod, understanding what she’s saying and letting her words sink in deeper. She’s right, of course. If I throw money at Manny’s wife, or continue to feel guilty about what’s happened, then it will eat me up inside. This way, she can quietly stew in her own misery without bringing me down with her. Though, I suspect in some form or another, she will try and gain something from all of this, but that’s a bridge my lawyers can cross when the time comes. It’s what I pay them for.
“I’m sorry they treat you that way,” I say rather absently. “I guess I understand a little better what it feels like to be on the other side of someone’s ire.”
She gives me a sad smile. “I honestly can’t say that I think about it. I can’t in good conscious let it bother me because I know their focus is because they need something to direct their anger at. I’m an easy target because they don’t know me. They don’t like me. Until their anger truly comes to a boil and they come after me, I have no need to be bothered by it. It’s realistically the same for you. She has no grounds for lawsuit, and she’ll find that out soon enough. She will either come out guns blazing or, she’ll slink quietly back to where she came from. Until she makes her intentions known, Xavier, there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know you are.” She smiles at me.
“How are you doing?” I ask, changing the subject.
She shrugs. “I’m all right. I’m glad Danny and Anna are here. Sometimes, I think he’s still in shock.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it. Reality hasn’t set in. He hasn’t had enough time alone to really let it all set in.”
“He’s been alone at night,” she murmurs.
“True, but not enough to really let it set in. He’s had people here to comfort and distract him. He’s especially had you and Jax. I’m worried about when everyone leaves.” Including you, but I don’t say that. The reality is, we’ve yet to resolve anything. We’ve yet to truly come to any decision about how we’re going to handle us, and us with Jax going forward. We haven’t had a chance to really discuss it, and I know, in my heart, she will soon be leaving Seattle to go back to New York.
“I think Danny is planning on staying for a while. I think that will help.”
“Will it?” I turn to her. “Because it likely won’t help him grieve properly. It will just allow him to keep burying it. Ignoring it. He needs to grieve in order to heal,” I tell her.
“Yes but hanging onto something that gives him a little hope, a little happiness, even if only for a little while longer, isn’t always a bad thing, Xavier.”
“Maybe not, but I worry about the long run.” I put my hand in my pocket and pull out my pack and light a smoke.
“I don’t know. I put it off for 20 years.”
I glare at her. “What are you talking about?”
She takes one final drag before snuffing out her cigarette in the ashtray between us. Her green eyes meet mine, and they’re sad, pained. “I cried briefly, when Kathy told me about my father. It lasted all of about two minutes. Until two years ago. On the boat.”
“What about it?” I narrow my eyes in question.
“When I broke down?”
“Yeah…”
“That was the first time I really let myself grieve the loss of my father. Of Jack. Of everyone lost that day.”
“That’s not possible,” I say in disbelief.
She shrugs. “It’s possible because it’s exactly what happened. It was the first time I really let myself feel the loss of him. In the months that followed, I found my grief. I found the ability to finally come to accept his loss and be able to finally process it. I went through all five stages inside of about six months. But I cannot honestly I would have gotten through it in that amount of time if it wasn’t for being pregnant with Jax.”
“I had no idea,” I whisper.
“I never really thought about it. I didn’t think I could delay my grief for that long but I was young and I was removed from the situation by Randy and Kathy. They took me to Portland. They took me away from the fishery and shielded me from anything that really had to do with my father. It wasn’t until I turned 18 that I even knew BB One still existed. It wasn’t until then that I learned Randy had kept the boat up and running, let alone that he’d started to grow it into an actual business and not just a boat.” She takes a drag off her smoke and looks out absently over the lawn and the water as she continues to tell me her story. “I think a part of him did what he did because he didn’t want to see me get rid of the boat. He wanted to keep it in the family, if not for me, then maybe even for Kathy.”
She keeps talking, but unbeknownst to her, Randy has stepped outside. He quietly hangs in the shadows watching and listening to her.
“I never knew. Or if they ever talked to me about it, or told me, I didn’t pay any attention. I didn’t want to hear about anything pertaining to Erron, the boat, Sarah”—she gives me a sad smile—“crabbing. Hell, I wouldn’t even eat seafood until I was in college. It was the only thing I could do to help myself forget about him. About you,” she whispers.
I don’t say anything, I just let her find her voice, get out what she needs to say. I get the impression this is her way of coping with Kathy.
“It was easier for me that way. It allowed me to bury my feelings.” She takes a long drag and blows it out before continuing. “It started with my mother and her passing. I was too young to really understand the gravity of what happened when she died. Erron didn’t help that any. He was emotionally closed off from that day forward. We never talked about her. We never discussed what had happened or why it had happened. It wasn’t until I started going to your house when he was out to sea. Talking to your mom helped me understand what had happened with my own.” She takes another drag. “It was after that second season, opies, I think it was, that Erron realized what she’d told me. I heard him and Jack getting into it one night after t
hey’d come home. Sarah never spoke of her again, and I never asked. I never wanted Erron and Jack to fight, and I was afraid I would never get to go back to your house. So, I kept my mouth shut. I was too young to understand that my mother was gone. I was even too little to understand what suicide meant, all I knew is that my mother was no longer there—Erron, Jack, Sarah, and you were.”
“Did you ever grieve for your mother?” I ask, curious.
“Nope,” she deadpans. “I don’t remember much before kindergarten, or at least I didn’t at the time. I just remembered going to school and kids making fun of me because my clothes were dirty, or my hair was undone because she didn’t care enough about me to make sure I had clean clothes, or took baths regularly, or learned how to do my hair.” She takes one last drag before putting out her smoke and folding her arms across her chest. Her expression is one of a million miles or thirty years away. She leans against the pillar before continuing. “I knew something wasn’t right with her, but I was too young to really understand that it was alcohol and sadness that kept her in bed or kept her from doing the things she needed to do. I vaguely remember the last season Erron went out before she died. He came home early. Earlier than she expected because she always managed to pull her shit together before he got home. My guess is the ride back from Dutch gave her the warning she needed to pull herself together. He lost his shit. They fought for days when he came home. It was bad. I hid in my room through most of it. Then I remember him getting ready to leave again, that was when she did it. She killed herself.
“Now though, I can’t help wondering if she didn’t actually mean to do it. If there was something inside of her that thought if she attempted suicide, it would be enough to keep him home, to keep him from going again. But she was successful the first time.” Her eyes find mine. “He didn’t stay. I remember burying her, then I remember being at your house and saying farewell to him as he disappeared on his boat.” She wipes away a stray tear from her eye. The emotion evident in her voice the longer she talks about her mother. “My life changed then,” she mutters. “Life became different for me. I spent weeks, months even, with you and your mother. Then I would get a couple weeks with Erron, he’d see that I was satisfied, well fed, well taken care of. He’d get me whatever I needed either for summer or for school and then I’d be dropped back off at your house, and he’d be gone again. I learned quickly to cherish and enjoy what time I had with him, but the reality of it was that I enjoyed him buying me things. Clothes, toys, lavishing money on me. His patience never wavered when we would do something I enjoyed, like clothes shopping or even toy shopping. Unlike my mother who had no patience or tolerance for those things, at least not when it came to me. But it never lasted. He never stayed, and I quit asking him to. It never worked.”
She shifts slightly, adjusting her feet and her stance so she can look out over the lawn. It’s getting dark outside the longer we stand out here talking.
“When he died…I didn’t feel like I was really missing anything because he was never there. He was never around anyway. At least, that’s what I told myself.” She swallows hard. “It wasn’t until Randy and Kathy that I truly learned what it meant to have parents. Your mom did an amazing job, but she was always temporary, and I knew that. She took care of me in ways that my mother never could, at least not that I could remember, but it was short lived. Soon, Erron would return, and even sooner, he’d be gone again. Randy and Kathy were always there for me. Sure, Randy went on trips, ran an occasional crab season, but as much as I know Kathy missed him, she never gave up, she never just sat back and did nothing. She took care of me, made sure I got to school on time and in clean clothes. Made sure I always had lunch to eat, and on the weekends, we did things like go to the movies, the library, roller skating, you name it. We never stayed idle. Sometimes, looking back on it now, I think she did those things because she didn’t want to think about the fact that Randy was gone. She knew if she stopped, reality would set in, and she was doing everything she could to avoid that.”
“Or she did it because she felt you deserved so much more than what you’d been given,” Randy speaks up, making his presence known.
“How long have you been standing there?” Rebel asks without turning toward him.
“Since you were talking about Bearded Bean.”
She lowers her head, shaking it slowly back and forth. “I’m sorry, you didn’t need to hear all this.”
“On the contrary, sweetheart.” He wraps his arm around her shoulders. “I think I did. It’s nice to know we had an impact on you.”
“Did I ever give you any indication to think otherwise?” Skylar asks him.
Randy smiles sweetly at her. “No, darling, you did not. It’s just nice to have it validated.”
“I meant what I said. You and Kathy were more my parents than they were. You were there for me, no matter what I needed.”
“Not always,” he smiles sadly at her. “I seem to remember certain personal struggles that put distance between us.”
She frowns at him. “I didn’t even know what I was going through then, Uncle. It was never my intention to put a wedge between us, I just…I didn’t understand what it meant.”
He grins and nods at her. “I know, and I’m glad you were able to figure it out, and I’m even happier that you were finally able to explain it to us.”
“What are you two talking about?” I ask, confused.
Her eyes meet mine and a smirk tugs at her lips. “You already know. You found out with my speech at the gala.” She raises her eyebrows at me.
“Oh, the fact that you’re a lesbian?” I tease her.
She scoffs playfully. “If I were a lesbian, we wouldn’t…”
“Ay, I don’t want to hear this.” Randy plugs his ears playfully with a laugh.
She giggles and shrugs. “Um, hello, Jax?”
“Yeah, darling, I know, but still, it doesn’t mean I want to hear it.” He sighs. “Kathy and I promised each other that night I got to Seattle, after we learned of Erron’s passing, that we would take you in and we would treat you as if you were our own. We both believed you deserved better than what you’d be given.” Randy moves to stand between the two of us, his hands resting on the railing as he tells us his side of the story. “It killed Kathy every time Erron went out to sea after your mother passed away. She hated that you couldn’t spend that time with us, with family.” He looks apologetically at me. “That he handed you off to a friend’s wife.” He puts his hands up in defense of his statement. “Sarah and Jack were closer to you than Kathy and I were. So, she understood. Plus, we lived in Portland, and neither one of us wanted to take you away from your regular routine. Sarah was the best person for the job, and she took very good care of you. But she wasn’t your mother, and she wasn’t family, and that bothered Kathy. So, it wasn’t a difficult choice for us to bring you back with us after he passed away. Kathy was determined to give you anything and everything you needed and more.
“I held onto the boat because it wasn’t mine to give away or sell. It was yours to decide what to do with it when the time came. I could have just run it as a crab boat. Made sure it had a captain and a crew. Quota to fill and everything it needed to stay running, but I realized there was so much more potential in it. So much more that it could become and I owed it to you, Kathy, and Erron to see that it lived up to its full potential.” He chuckles. “I had fun doing it. I realized that I could run a company from a desk rather than behind the helm. I understood that I could keep it going and never have to leave your side.” He looks at Skylar. “I didn’t like leaving. I didn’t like feeling like I was leaving you vulnerable to another loss.”
“I never felt that way,” Rebel says.
He smiles at her. “I know that now. It was how I felt. I thought you deserved happiness and family and not having to witness someone else collapse.”
Ryleigh joins us then, coming to stand with the three of us. Randy turns around and sits on the railing, facing her.
He continues, “When Sarah died, I couldn’t bear the idea of telling you.” He lowers his head but keeps talking. “I was afraid of how you’d handle it. Maybe that was wrong, but I felt you’d endured enough loss for your lifetime.”
I’d always guessed that was why I never saw her at the funeral. I remember Kathy being there because she and Sarah were very good friends, at least up until Jack’s passing. But I blamed my mother for that, not Kathy. My mother alienated everyone after that day, including me.
“I don’t know how I would have handled that,” Rebel admits.
“That’s precisely why we didn’t tell you. I worried about you so much because you never grieved Erron’s loss. You took the move and ran with it. You took to everything with more courage and finesse than most mature adults do, and I was so afraid that one more thing would tip you over the edge. By that point, I was afraid that coming to terms with everything you’d lost would destroy you in ways neither Kathy nor I were prepared for. I fretted for months leading up to your eighteenth birthday about how to explain to you that you still owned your father’s boat.”
She cocks her head at him. “You didn’t tell me, Kathy did.”
He snorts. “I know. She knew I couldn’t do it. I was petrified of your reaction.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” she scoffs.
“Oh yes, it was.” Randy busts out laughing, a full-on belly laugh.
The sound is infectious, and we all join him. It’s the first truly happy sound I’ve heard from him in days, and I can’t stop myself from laughing with him.
The conversation shifts after that, lightening up and discussing less invasive topics.
Until Ryleigh excuses herself when Scott comes out. They’re headed to the airport to pick up Ryleigh’s boyfriend, Kavanaugh. I asked Rebel if she wanted to go along, but she just wrapped her arms around me and stayed. Ryleigh and Kavanaugh will be going back to the hotel, which is likely where we will end up.
Always Love Me: A Standalone Second Chance Romance Page 31