Beyond the Tide

by Noelle Marchand

  “Maybe I don’t want you to be strong. Maybe I want you to…” She bit her lip.

  “To what?”

  She shook her head. He was right where he was supposed to be. In his house. At his job. She was the one who had the flexibility to travel to him. “I just want to see you. Can we video chat this evening?”

  “I’d love that. I’ll see you this weekend. It will be here before you know it.”

  “Liar.” A smile tilted her lips as he laughed. Realizing her mother would arrive at any minute, she sighed. “I should go.”

  “Me too. Lunch break’s over. I’ll call you when I get off work, ok?”

  “Ok.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too. Bye.” She disconnected the call, then sat up and smoothed down her hair.

  Her mother’s cultured voice filled the room. “Who was that on the phone?”

  With a start, Ava turned to find her mother standing in the doorway. Clara Rossi Emerson looked flawless as usual. She was wearing a pale pink dress, flower print heels, and a structure sage green jacket. Her dark brown hair tumbled in effortless waves to her shoulders.

  Clara’s green eyes surveyed Ava with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. A perfectly arch brow lifted in a silent question. Ava forced the words past her lips in calm, pleasant tones. “That was Ian Sinclair.”

  A soft laugh filled air. A single, deft look communicated, “You must be joking.”

  Footsteps in the hall drew Clara’s attention before an unfamiliar voice asked, “Is this where you’d like us to set up the fitting room, Mrs. Emerson?”

  “Yes, right in here.” Her mother stepped inside the room and was followed by a small blonde woman. “Ava, I would like you to meet Cheyenne Brooks. You wore one her dress for the Southern Glamour cover shoot.”

  “Oh, yes, I loved that dress.” Ava stood to shake the woman’s hand. “You do such wonderful work.”

  The woman blue eyes lit up with joy. “Thank you so much!”

  Her mother smiled at them both. “I’ve commissioned two gowns for you, Ava. One will be worn at an upcoming benefit for your father. The other is for the Hollywood Remembers Award Show. Cheyenne, you may go ahead and set up everything in here. Ava will be with you in a few minutes.”

  Ava took that as her cue to follow her mother out of the room. Another woman looked to be setting up an office in the dining room. It turned out to be her new manager, Melanie Kirkpatrick. While her mother’s personal assistant prepared lunch for them in the breakfast room, Clara and Ava sat across from each other in the living room.

  Clara smiled at Ava. “You have had quite the adventure.”

  “Yes, everything about it was… rather unexpected.”

  “I would imagine so.”

  Ava smiled into the silence, then offered. “I haven’t had a chance to watch the show.”

  “You came across well.”

  “Oh, good.”

  More silence, then finally, her mother asked, “What would you credit as the most unexpected aspect of your experience?”

  She felt as though she was sixteen again and being coached for her pageant interviews. She might as well get this over with. Offering a guileless mien, she admitted rather breathlessly, “I fell in love.”

  Clara’s breath caught softly. She stilled. Her eyebrows lifted. “With Ian Sinclair?”

  “Yes.”

  “On national television?”

  No. In St. John. Those were the words she should have said, but they caught in her chest. Now might not be the best time to admit to that little excursion. Instead, inexplicable boldness overtook her. “Does that shame you?”

  “Shame me? Oh, my word, child. Don’t be silly. I am not ashamed. Was it wise? Was it convenient or timely? Most certainly not.” She leaned forward slightly, concern written all over her face. “You do know that you can’t trust those emotions, don’t you? Situations like that, so far removed from the real world… Why, the chances of finding something lasting out of that kind of construct are slim to none.”

  “Slim to none?”

  Her mother waved a hand, done with that conversation. “I am here to apologize.”

  Ava blinked. “For what?”

  “Your father and I have neglected you during this season of unceasing busyness. I realized that as soon as you left. We have been thinking of you, though, even if we haven’t expressed it as we should have.”

  “Oh. Thank you.”

  “Your father has been talking to some of his friends at the Smithsonian and the National Archives. They are very impressed with you. They’ve let us know that each institution will have a position opening up soon. Isn’t that wonderful? We could all be in DC together, eventually.”

  “I… What positions?”

  “Melanie will give you the details. I believe lunch is ready.” She checked her watch. “I’m afraid I have to leave in thirty minutes, but there is so much to catch you up on. I’ll talk fast.”

  Ava’s head was spinning by the time lunch was over. She’d hardly had a chance to get a word in edge-wise. “Yes” seemed to be the only word her mother could hear. By the time her mother finally gave her a hug and said a quick goodbye, Ava felt completely at sea. The door closed behind Clara, and Ava couldn’t help whispering, “What just happened?”

  Cheyenne popped out from around the corner. “Did you say something?”

  Ava shook her head and offer a weak smile. “My mom had to leave.”

  “Oh, that’s fine. She said she might. Are you ready for your fitting?”

  Ava gave a short nod. “What am I wearing?”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  He’d made it through a whole day without Ava. Someone give him an award. Of course, he wasn’t entirely sure it counted, since they’d talked at lunch and texted all morning. He’d still managed to make some headway into the work that had piled up on his desk during his leave of absence.

  The afternoon had been particularly productive. That’s when his phone had gone noticeably silent. It was also after Ava’s mother had arrived at Emerson House. He’d sent Ava a text to check on her after two-and-a-half hours.

  She’d responded that the conversation had gone as well as expected and promised to fill him in later. He’d figured it was best to give her some space. Also, he didn’t want to call too often and raise questions Ava might not be ready to answer.

  After stowing his phone in his pocket and his laptop in his bag, Ian locked the door of his research lab and headed down the hallways of the Texas Coastal History Museum. He turned the corner into the main lobby and stopped in his tracks as a cheer went up. The Holden family and the museum staff rushed forward to greet him, while the Treasure Hunter production crew filmed it all.

  A huge ‘Welcome back!’ banner hung over a refreshment table. Ian received hugs from the Holdens, who each reiterated how glad they were that he was back—except for Justin. Instead, he murmured, “Sorry. I couldn’t convince them you might not want a party.”

  Ian offered a shrug and a smile before doing his best to pretend this whole situation didn’t make him vastly uncomfortable. Twenty minutes into the party, Ian ducked out the back of the museum to where the bay lapped at the dock mere feet away. It was rude to desert his guests. He knew that. He just needed a minute to think, to breathe.

  The door opened behind him. He turned as Rick stepped outside with a lone cameraman at his heels. That likely meant there was another one nearby. Too tired to look for the other lens, Ian waited to see what Rick would do.

  The man joined him at the railing. “Justin told me a welcome back party might not be a good idea.”

  “I don’t get it.” The words flowed out without any planning or foresight. “Why are you welcoming me back? None of this makes any sense.”

  “You’ve been gone for more than a month. Why wouldn’t it make sense?”

  Glancing at the cameras, he couldn’t help wondering how muc
h of this was for the show. “Is this real? All of this? Any of it?”

  Rick frowned. “Kid, what in Sam Hill are you talking about? Of course, it’s real.”

  Ian shook his head. “How can y’all act like nothing happened before I left? It’s as if y’all hit the reset button while I was gone and everything is supposed to be ok now. Well, I don’t have the script. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say or how I’m supposed to take all of this.”

  “You’re confused.”

  “Yeah, I’m confused.”

  Rick shook his head. “No, I mean, you’re really confused about a lot of things. Look, no one’s denying that a lot of stuff went down before you went on Pirate’s Plunder, but there’s a lot that happened long before that too. Namely, you became a part of our family when you walked up to me in those little arm floaties at six-years-old and asked if I was the ‘swimming class teacher.’ You’re one of my kids.”

  “I’m not, though.” Ian took a step back. “Rick, maybe it’s best if I just—”

  Rick caught him by the shoulder and looked him in the eye. “I wanted you to be my son. For ten years, I asked your father if he would let me and Jane adopt you.”

  “What?” Ian stared at Rick in shock. “No one ever told me that.”

  “Didn’t seem right to since he wouldn’t allow it. I don’t blame him for not wanting to either. It’s a hard thing, giving up a child, even if you act like you don’t want him. Legally or not, it doesn’t matter to me. As far as I’m concerned, you’re my son.” Rick squeezed his shoulder. “You always have been. I’m sorry if I haven’t made that more clear.”

  “But Emily…”

  Rick smiled ruefully. “Now, that was… That was a hard thing to watch—an odd thing to watch. My daughter in love with the kid I had hoped would be her brother. Never did set right with me.”

  Taken aback, Ian stood in silence for a moment. “You never said that.”

  “How could I? You’re grown people. You can make your own decisions. It wasn’t as though I didn’t approve of your relationship. It just…” Rick shrugged. “It didn’t seem right. Of course, no father wants to see his daughter hurt. She was pretty low for a while after your break up. I was afraid for her, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you too.”

  Ian glanced toward the water, trying to put his world in proper perspective. “I wish I’d known that. All of it. A long time ago.”

  “I wish I’d told you.”

  He should be ecstatic right now. Or, at the very least, relieved. Instead, he merely felt confused. “Rick, I need some time to think. I’m going to head out.”

  Rick nodded, gave Ian’s shoulder one last squeeze, then released him. “I understand. Go on then.”

  After a quick round of goodbyes, Ian headed home. He couldn’t help checking his phone at each stop light, but nothing showed up from Ava. His concern grew. He pulled into his garage and called her. It went to voicemail.

  He stared at the steering wheel for a moment, then made a decision. Backing out of the garage, he drove fifteen minutes away. He parked in front of a modest ranch-style house painted in shades of pale blue. He shook his head. This was a bad idea.

  He put the car in drive and was just easing off the brake when his phone rang. He stopped, hoping it might be Ava. It was his dad.

  Ian put the car in park and glanced at the house as he answered. Before he could say anything, John Paul Sinclair’s gravelly voice filled the line. “Are you going to sit out there all day or are you going to come inside?”

  He sighed. “Honestly? I was about to drive away.”

  Silence filled the line. Finally, JP said, “Might as well come in, since you drove all this way.”

  Ian turned off the car. “You in the garage?”

  “As usual.”

  “Be there in a second.” Ian disconnected the call. He grabbed a Holden’s Marine Construction & Salvage baseball cap from his glove box and put it on. Pretty shabby armor, but at least it was something.

  Tugging the brim lower, Ian walked up the driveway. He stopped just inside the large, air conditioned garage where his dad made extra money on the weekend by working on cars. JP closed the hood of a 1950s era maroon pickup. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  Ian hesitated. JP stood, wiping the grease from his hands. Watching his father was like looking in a mirror twenty years from now. At forty-eight, JP was still in impressive shape. Years of hard drinking and womanizing somehow hadn’t left much of a mark. At least, not enough for women to mind. It was a tossup as to what JP was more skilled at—working on cars or romancing women.

  Ian shook his head. His father’s history with women was the last thing Ian wanted to think about. JP met Ian gaze. His father’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Out with it.”

  “Why didn’t you let the Holdens adopt me?”

  JP stared at Ian. A myriad of emotions passed over JP’s face before his expression completely closed off. Shaking his head, JP turned away. He opened the vintage, teal mini-fridge and pull out a glass bottle of cola. “I can’t believe you would even ask me that.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? It was obvious you didn’t want me. Why not let me live with someone who did?”

  “If I didn’t want you, I would have given you up.”

  Ian frowned. “So you’re saying you did want me?”

  “Obviously.” JP leveraged the cap off the bottle with far more force than necessary. He turned to face Ian with blazing eyes. “You’re my son. They had no right to even ask. Let alone hound me for years.”

  “That is the biggest load of… of nonsense I’ve ever heard. You barely knew I was alive. You cared more about paying for your next six-pack of beer than you did about buying school supplies. You rarely came to my swim meets. You weren’t there when I need you. Ever.” The words came out low and true, reverberating in the thick silence that followed them.

  “And Rick was, is that right?”

  Unable to deny it, Ian lifted his shoulder in a shrug. He waited for his dad to explode. He waited for hurtful words to pour forth. Instead, JP looked at the ground. “I can’t change the past. Even if I could, I wouldn’t have given you up. I may not have been the best father, but you’re still my son.” His father finally met his gaze. “No matter how much you might wish otherwise.”

  Ian stared right back at his father. “You should have wanted what was best for me. We both know that wasn’t you. You didn’t even try. You wouldn’t let anyone else try either. I don’t think I’ll ever understand you. I don’t think I want to.”

  With that, Ian turned on his heel, leaving before his father could order him out. He tried calling Ava again. She finally answered. Relief and longing filled him at the sound of her voice. He put the phone on speaker. “Hey! Do you have a few minutes to chat?”

  “Sure do, handsome. What’s up?”

  He told her about his conversation with Rick and the one he’d had with his father. “I don’t know what to make of this, how to think, what to feel.”

  “Hmm. Do you want to know what I think?”

  “Definitely.”

  “I think you have a lot of people who love you and want you in their lives. Far more than you originally thought or hoped. I’m not entirely convinced that’s a bad thing. Yes, your father should have wanted the best for you. I’m not excusing that. But, at the time, he wasn’t even capable of doing what was best for him.”

  “But I could have been a Holden.”

  “According to Rick, you are a Holden.”

  “All of this stuff with Emily might never have happened.”

  “Or it could have happened exactly the same way only more…”

  “Weirdly?” he asked with a reluctant laugh.

  “Yes. You don’t need to change the past, Ian. You’re doing great right here and right now.”

  “So am I supposed to act like nothing went wrong with any of them?”

  “No, but maybe it’s ok to exte
nd a little grace to them and to yourself. Maybe you can even build something new and healthy with the people who mattered in the past.”

  “Are you comfortable with that? With me being involved with the Holdens?”

  She was quiet for a moment. Finally, she said, “Ian, are they your family?”

  “I… Yes. I guess they are.”

  “Then they’re my family, too.”

  He finally turned onto his street. He clicked the remote to open the gate, then again to open the garage. He stared at the red mustang convertible tucked inside the garage. Heart pounding in his chest, he asked, “Ava, where are you right now?”

  “Me?” Her innocent voice filled his ear. “I’m sitting at the table on your patio. Why?”

  “You’re here? Are you serious? How are you here?” He pulled in beside her car, turned off his truck, and grabbed his work backpack. “Is everything ok?”

  “Everything is fine. I still need to keep a low profile until my press tour for Pirate’s Plunder next week, so my parents don’t have much use for me yet. There are a few things I need to do to prepare for some of the events I have coming up, but I figured I could do that from anywhere.”

  He set his backpack on the floor near the sofa and hurried toward the back door. “How long can you stay?”

  “I have to drive back to Austin on Thursday, so I can meet with my dad’s campaign manager on Friday. I can stay until then on one condition.”

  He ended the call and finally stepped onto the back patio. “What’s the condition?”

  Ava glanced up from her laptop. Her face lit up with a smile at the sight of him. She pushed away from the table and walked toward him. Her dark hair was caught up in a high, messy knot. She wore a blousy, pale green top and white skinny jeans. She somehow managing to look gorgeous, fresh, and casual despite what he knew must have been a very long day already.

  Tilting her head, she gave him a challenging look as she stopped an arm’s-length away. “You have to change the locks on your house as soon as possible.”

  “Our house,” he corrected.

  She glanced past him to survey the Spanish Colonial. A soft smile tilted her lips. “You have to change the locks on our house.”