by Carol Ross
Then there was Seth. She’d never met anyone quite like him. He was so...attractive. Like, as a person, not as a man. Well, of course, there was that part, too, but what really drew her in was how easy he was to be with. How comfortable he always seemed to be. Just completely pleased with who he was. And yet, he was pleased with others, too. Accepting and curious and genuinely interested.
At first, she’d been suspicious of his motives. Admittedly, that was changing. Because he was friendly with other resort guests, too. And today, everyone he met from the charter boat captain to the bait boy to the waitress at the café where they’d gotten take-out coffee and donuts, was treated with the same degree of kindness and respect. Including her. Even more so with her. Despite her initial treatment of him, he liked her. She could tell.
And she liked him. A niggle of regret churned inside of her thinking about the conversation they’d had that first night, the lecture she’d given him and how emphatic she’d been that they couldn’t be friends. Because the truth was, if the circumstances were different, she could see them as friends.
A new email landed in her inbox. A reservation request, which prompted her to check the bookings for the approaching weekend. Also, she needed to call Austin. Her ex had left several messages in the last few days asking her to get back to him.
“Mama!” Scarlett busted into the office while she was still scanning the reservation list.
“One second, Scarlett,” she replied holding up a finger. They were going to be busy. Busy was good. And lots of out-of-towners, which was even better because that meant most of them wouldn’t be showing up before noon the next day. Sac-a-lait were spawning, and she’d been promising Scarlett they could go fishing. If they headed out first thing in the morning, she could be back in time to check in the bulk of the campers. Mémé had a meeting in town, but Mama could handle any early birds.
“Hey!” she said, smiling at her daughter’s eager face. “What’s up?”
“Can I please go sac-a-lait fishing?”
“Yes, we sure can. How’s tomorrow morning sound?”
“No, I mean right now. Quinn and I will—”
“Scarlett, honey, I—”
“Mama,” Hands up, palms down, she interrupted. “It’s okay. I know you’re probably tired and busy catching up and all. Mr. James offered to take us.”
“Excuse me? Young lady, did you—”
“No! Mama, I did not ask him to take us, I swear.” She inhaled deeply and then delivered her pitch in one long, sprawling and enthusiastic breath, “Me and Quinn were talking on the porch while I was tying jigs, and Mr. James came up and asked what I was doing, and I told him they were for sac-a-lait, and he didn’t even know what a sac-a-lait was—he said ‘sack of what?’” Scarlett paused to laugh, and Vic chuckled because she could see him saying that. “And then we told him, and they don’t even have them in Alaska, and he said he’d like to learn how to fish for them, and then he offered to take us. Is that okay?”
Victoria took a second to let this all sink in, wrapping her mind, and her heart, too, around the fact that he’d offered to take her two favorite kids fishing. Why would he do this? Marissa and Gerard were long gone. Closing in on exhaustion herself, she knew how tired he had to be. There was absolutely nothing in it for him, other than perpetrating an act of unselfish generosity. Well, except for some incredible fishing. That thought left her with a grin, and the absolute confirmation that Seth James was good people.
She was opening her mouth to reply when a soft rapping sounded on the doorframe an instant before he appeared.
“Heyyy, Victoria,” he called in a sing-song voice. “How are you?” Then he looked eagerly at Scarlett and switched to a comically loud stage whisper, “What’d your mom say?” The whole thing was such a perfect dramatization of kids secretly conspiring that she had to laugh.
“Just a sec,” a grinning Scarlett loud-whispered her answer. “I don’t know yet.” Scarlett turned toward her again, eyes silently pleading, and she could feel Seth’s gaze on her, too. “Mama?”
Their enthusiasm was contagious and reminded Vic of everything she loved about fishing: the anticipation, the thrill of the catch and especially the camaraderie. The hopefulness on her daughter’s precious face nearly brought tears to her eyes. The handsome, funny sweetness that was Seth James smiling eagerly at her had her stomach flipping in a very nice way. Probably a way that she should ignore but really didn’t want to; she was having a blast.
“Who am I to resist this kind of united front?” Shaking her head, she answered, “Her mom says yes, on one condition.”
“What?” Scarlett said, barely hanging on to her patience. “I already finished all my homework and I even started on my book report. What’s the condition?”
“That I can go with you?”
* * *
VICTORIA FINISHED UP, closed the office, and then hurried into the house to let her mom know they were leaving. After stuffing a few things in her daypack, she was on her way back out the back door when she heard the front doorbell chime.
Not an unusual occurrence. The office and store were closed, but guests knew they lived onsite. Mostly, people were extremely considerate and didn’t bother them at home unless it was important. Unfortunately, they had the occasional entitled guest used to five-star treatment who assumed the “staff” would be available to fetch their emergency marshmallows or ketchup or beer 24/7.
“I’ll get it!” Victoria called into the kitchen where Corinne was busy baking something undoubtedly amazing that had the whole house smelling like vanilla. Mémé was out in her woodshop.
Cheerfully, she opened the door. Not a guest. Austin. Resentment flooded through her at the sight of her ex. A sensation even more unpleasant than usual since she’d been buzzing with the anticipation of a fun-filled evening. One that included Seth. Seth.
She did not want Austin anywhere near him. She could not bear the thought of Seth getting even a glimpse of the woman she’d once been. The idea of him learning her history made her blood go cold. Would she ever accept that her past was well and truly buried?
Quickly, she stepped out onto the porch and shut the door behind her. “What are you doing here, Austin?”
“I’ve left you four messages in the last week, and you have not returned my calls. I’m here to see my daughter.” He looked pointedly around her toward the house, asking without words if he could come inside.
Victoria ignored it. “Avery isn’t here.” Avery was the daughter he had with Amber, the woman he’d left her for. Austin, Amber, Avery; Team Triple A, as she secretly referred to them. With poor Scarlett serving as some sort of second-string player.
“You know very well that I am referring to Scarlett.”
“But...it’s Friday.”
“I am very well aware of what day it is, and the parenting plan states that I get her every other Friday at 4:00 p.m.”
“Seriously?” she shook her head as irritation and anxiety gave way to confusion. “Since when are you abiding by the parenting plan?”
“I always try to abide by the parenting plan, Victoria.”
“Do you know how many Fridays you’ve actually had her in the past year?”
“I know I’ve missed a few but most of them for sure.”
Victoria felt her blood begin to boil with anger and a host of other negative emotions. She reined in everything except for the amused contempt which seemed to annoy him the most. “If you mean you’ve missed all except for a few, then yes, you’re right. You’ve picked her up on exactly three Fridays in the last year.”
Vic could even tell him which weekends they were; Avery’s birthday, Amber’s birthday and Austin’s birthday. Each of those events had called for a “special getaway” trip; one to Florida’s grandest amusement park for Avery’s birthday, another to New Orleans for Amber’s, and then to the Gulf Coast for Austin�
��s. Scarlett had patiently waited for the phone call that would reveal where they’d all be going for her own special birthday trip.
That call never came. When the Friday before her birthday rolled around, Austin texted to say he couldn’t fit her in that weekend because he was going to Baton Rouge. Victoria had been livid while a devastated Scarlett cried in her arms. He’d dropped a gift off on his way out of town and promised to take her out for ice cream later. For about the ten-millionth time she wondered how such selfish, self-centered genes could have contributed to her child. It also served as continual validation for not giving Scarlett his name.
“You keep track?” he snapped, irritation flashing across his face.
Interesting, she thought, he was usually much better about keeping his emotions in check. A deliberately casual shrug of one shoulder conveyed her answer. He’d also missed more than half of his Wednesday visits.
His look felt probing. “Is that how far your records go back, a year?”
“No.” They went back much further than that. All the way to the beginning, in fact. She’d been keeping records of his visitation, and everything else, since the day he’d left. Initially, Mémé had insisted that she do it. She’d acquiesced. Later, it had become a source of justification for her animosity. An animosity she was careful not to let Scarlett see. Thankfully, those feelings had dissipated. Somewhat. Now, not only was it a habit, but it also felt prudent. Protection, if they ever ended up in court again, a real possibility if he kept neglecting his daughter. And yet another reason she loved her grandmother.
“Well, that’s something anyway. At least, you’re not keeping track of every misstep I make.”
No way was she going to fall for that trap. She let the seconds tick by waiting for him to get to the point.
Austin had this annoying, theatrical way of sighing where he opened his mouth, inhaled deeply, and then huffed out the breath through his nose. Which he did now, before haughtily inquiring, “When are you going to get over this, Victoria?”
Never, she replied silently. I will never get over your making me promises that you did not keep, including your and your father’s promise that if I took the blame for you so you could finish law school then I’d get my turn at college. Or the promise you made to forsake all others while you cheated with another woman and then tossed me and my daughter aside.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Austin. This isn’t about me. It’s about Scarlett. She has plans tonight. If you want to start adhering to the parenting plan, you’re going to have to provide me with some notice.”
“I tried to, Victoria. That’s what the phone calls were for.”
“Well, I’m sorry, Austin. You should have left a message. It’s not going to happen tonight. We’re in the middle of a special evening. You can have her tomorrow.”
“That’s not going to work.”
“Why? No one is having a birthday.”
“What?” he said with a flash of irritation.
“Never mind. Why can’t you just get her tomorrow like you usually do? When you do get her, I mean.”
Another dramatic Austin huff, and then he confessed, “We have a family portrait scheduled for tomorrow morning.”
“How sweet,” she gushed sarcastically.
“Can you just go get her? Please?”
Wow. A please from Austin Galbraith. The truth was that Scarlett would probably be thrilled to be included in their family portrait. She adored her little sister, Avery. And Scarlett hadn’t quite reached the point where she was ready to give up on her dad. That was a conclusion that Vic knew she couldn’t force; Scarlett had to make that decision on her own. Putting Scarlett first was always the right thing. Guilt immediately flooded in to temper her anger.
“What time is the photo shoot?”
“Ten.”
“I’ll drop her off in the morning.”
“Really?”
“When have you ever known me to say I’d do something and then not follow through?”
“Vic, I—”
“Do not call me that. You are not allowed.”
“I...know.” Raking a hand through his hair, he turned and squinted off into the distance as if gathering for a speech. That’s when Victoria noticed the lines of tension on his face. What was going on with him? After a second, he gave her a tight smile and said, “That would be great. Thank you. I truly appreciate it.”
“What is she supposed to wear? Are you doing like a color scheme? How does Amber want her hair done?”
“Uh...” He shrugged helplessly.
“Have Amber text me.”
“Thank you.”
“Yep.” Two thank-yous in less than a minute. Definitely something strange going on with him. Not her business, and definitely not her concern. Hefting one thumb, Victoria pointed over her shoulder. “I need to go.” Stepping backward with a final wave, she turned around and was almost to the door.
“Victoria?”
“Yeah?” she said, spinning to face him again.
“I, uh...” He slid a hand across his cheek to grip the back of his neck.
Victoria recognized the gesture. Stress. Regardless of their history, she felt this...something for him. Concern, she supposed, if she was being honest. After all, he was Scarlett’s father.
“Hey, are you okay?”
His eyes widened like he was surprised by the question. With good reason, she supposed, as she wasn’t prone to inquiring after his health.
“Oh, yeah, absolutely. Just tired.” He waved a breezy hand. “You know what, never mind. I can see you need to get going. We’ll talk about it later. Have a good evening, Victoria. Thank you again.” And with that, he descended the stairs of the porch and walked away.
Hmm. Very strange, indeed.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“SO, WHAT’S IT going to be, Scarlett?” an animated Victoria asked as she guided the boat across the lake. “Loser has to... Let me think. Clean the restrooms for a week?”
“Gross!” Scarlett shot back. “No one should have to do that all by themselves.”
“True enough,” Vic agreed. “Especially when it’s my sweet little daughter who will surely be the lone toilet cleaner.”
“Yeah, you wish. Everyone knows I’m just being kind to my feeble old mama.”
“Wow.” Quinn laughed. “There is some serious trash talking taking going down in this boat right now.”
“I’d say so.” Seth agreed. “A fishing wager?”
“Oh, yeah,” a chuckling Victoria answered. “You’ll have to forgive us, Seth. Sac-a-lait tends to bring out our competitive natures. And not always in the most attractive way. We always have a friendly bet. Most fish or biggest fish or both.”
She gifted him a warm smile, and Seth was struck by how genuinely relaxed and carefree she seemed. He liked this Victoria even better than the one he’d fished with this morning.
“Loser has to eat one of Gram’s hot peppers?” Scarlett suggested.
Victoria winced. “Please, don’t make me.”
Scarlett giggled. “I won’t. Okay, how about loser has to do all the garden chores next week?”
“Wait a second here.” Seth held out a hand. “I want in on this. So, it has to be something I can enjoy watching you guys do before I leave.”
Scarlett sputtered out a laugh and shook her head. “I don’t think you want to do that, Mr. James. You’re never going to—” She bit off the rest of the sentence as if suddenly realizing how that sounded. Bug-eyed, she attempted to change course, “I meant, I mean, uh...”
Trying not to laugh, Seth leveled her with a playful scowl. “Never going to do what, Scarlett? Catch as many sacks of lays as you? I do possess some general knowledge of fishing, you know?”
Quinn howled with laughter. To Scarlett, he joked, “You talked yourself into a tight little corner ri
ght there, didn’t you?”
“No, wait, I,” a red-cheeked Scarlett stammered, embarrassed by the idea that she may have offended him. “I just meant because you’ve never fished sac-a-lait.”
“She sure did,” Seth agreed with Quinn, pinching the pad of one finger against his thumb and holding it aloft. “Tiny little corner she can’t get out of without letting me in on this.”
“Fine,” Scarlett said, fighting her grin in a way that reminded him of her mother. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“It is on! I’m going to win, and then you ladies are going to...” He looked at Quinn. “What can I bet?”
“How about we team up?” Victoria suggested. “And the losing team fries up this mess when we get back? And does the dishes.”
“That works,” Seth agreed.
Scarlett nodded. “Sounds good. Me and Quinn versus you and Mr. James?”
Vic grinned conspiratorially at Scarlett; two ladies sharing a secret. “Nothing else would be fair. If we were on the same team, it wouldn’t even be a contest.”
“Wow,” Seth said dryly and then gaped exaggeratedly at Quinn. “I wonder where Scarlett gets it from?”
“You know it,” Quinn replied in a similarly dry tone. “They are both insufferable. I don’t see how we can accept this insult and still hold on to our collective manhood.”
“I agree. That settles it,” Seth said.
“Ladies versus gentlemen!” Quinn declared.
“Quinn,” Scarlett returned flatly. “Have you lost your ever-loving mind? We will smoke you, and you know it.”
“Now, Scarlett,” Vic said in an overtly conciliatory tone. “Be nice. There is no doubt in my mind that these boys are a force to be reckoned with.” Countering the statement with a sad shake of her head, she made a show of cupping her hand to her mouth and whispering loudly, “This is going to be pathetic.” Clearing her throat, she then announced, “It is on! But please remember that Scarlett and I do not care for our sac-a-lait either overbattered or overcooked.”