If for Any Reason

by Courtney Walsh

  Oh, my. How was Emily supposed to turn down Gladys’s offer now? “What did she say?”

  “She hasn’t responded yet. There’s a time difference. But if you don’t do the show, no one will, and then I’ll never know if I’m any good at acting.”

  Emily turned back toward the door. “That’s not exactly true, JoJo. You’ll have lots of chances to see if you’re a good actor.” She pulled open the front door expecting Jack but found Hollis there instead.

  “Oh,” Emily said. “Hollis.”

  “Hey, am I early?”

  “Early for what?”

  “The renovation.”

  Emily stared at him. “You’re really going to try and help with this?”

  “What else do I have to do?”

  She leaned closer. “Hang out with your daughter.”

  Hollis looked past her. “My daughter is already here.”

  “Fair point.”

  “Emily bought donuts,” Jolie called over her shoulder as she raced back toward the kitchen.

  Hollis’s face brightened. “Donuts?”

  Emily groaned. “You might as well come in since I have a feeling I’m not going to be able to get rid of you.”

  He stepped inside, and it occurred to her that he hadn’t been in the old house since she returned. But then, he rarely came into the house when they were kids either. Unlike the McGuires, who opened their home willingly, fed her whenever they could, and made her feel like a part of the family, Emily’s grandmother had strict rules about other kids coming into the house throughout the day.

  “I don’t want you bringing sand in from outside, Emily,” she’d say, “and those McGuire boys can come over, but only if they stay outside in the yard.”

  It shamed her now to think about how Hollis and his family had been treated when they were kids, and especially that they’d been treated that way by her own family. She wanted no part of that, and her mom hadn’t either. In fact, she’d rejected most of what her grandmother had taught her in favor of the lessons Mom had left behind in her letters. She’d purposed to become the kind of adult who would’ve made Isabelle Ackerman proud—even if that meant disappointing her grandmother.

  “Sorry about the musty smell,” she said as she closed the door behind Hollis. “It’s been over a week, but I still can’t seem to get rid of it.”

  “New paint will help,” he said.

  “New everything will help.” She started toward the kitchen but stopped short. “Your mom told Jolie I was directing a show at the arts center.”

  Hollis’s face went blank. “I know. Sorry. I tried to explain to them it wasn’t official, but you know the Nantucket rumor mill.”

  Emily did know it—well. Even as a child she’d been aware of the way rumors spread across the island, or at least across her grandmother’s circle of friends.

  “So what are you going to do now?” Hollis asked.

  “Jolie said she asked her mom if she could stay on the island longer so she could audition.”

  Hollis shifted.

  “Do you want her to stay longer?”

  He met her eyes. “Do you even have to ask?”

  Emily knew better than to pounce on the Jolie situation in that exact moment, especially after he’d been so open with her earlier that morning on the beach. So why did she hear herself doing exactly that, as if she weren’t the one in control of her mouth? “I don’t know anything about you and Jolie except what she’s told me.”

  Hollis sighed. “What did she tell you?”

  “Dad!” Jolie yelled from the other room. “Donuts!”

  “Be right there, JoJo,” he called out.

  “Forget it.” Emily turned to go back to the kitchen, but Hollis grabbed her arm and turned her around.

  The connection of his skin on hers sent a shaky shiver down her spine. She glanced at his hand, and he quickly released his grip.

  “Sorry,” he said. “What did she say?”

  Emily narrowed her gaze. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” Why is my mouth so big?

  “Well, you did.”

  She could feel the tension between them returning, and it wasn’t the kind that made the air sizzle; it was the kind that balled her stomach into a knot. “I know. I have a knack for sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  He pulled his baseball cap off and ran a hand through his dark hair. “You won’t get an argument from me.”

  She leveled her gaze at him. “Funny.”

  “Look, I know you have opinions, but you don’t have the whole story,” Hollis said.

  Emily took a step closer—too close, it turned out, because she could smell whatever man soap he’d used in the shower that morning. “You’re right. I do have opinions. And you’re also right that I don’t have the whole story. The only thing I know for sure is that you have a daughter, and she’s a pretty great kid, and she thinks you don’t want her here.”

  Hollis balked, and instantly Emily regretted the words.

  This is not your business. Stop talking.

  “She said that?” His face fell.

  Emily sighed. “I’m sorry, Hollis. I said I wouldn’t stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, but . . .”

  “But you just can’t help yourself.” He finished her sentence with a dull laugh. “It’s fine. I could’ve guessed.”

  Emily had already pushed it this far—why stop now? “I don’t get it,” she said.

  He met her eyes.

  “I never in a million years would’ve expected you to be the kind of dad who wasn’t a part of his daughter’s life.” He’d opened up that morning on the beach—why did she feel the need to continue to push?

  “Like I said, there’s a lot you don’t understand.”

  “Then tell me,” she said. “Tell me what could possibly have kept you from making sure that little girl knew her dad loved her—no matter what.”

  He inched back, but only slightly, and his thorough study of her face set something off inside.

  She’d not only gotten into his business, but she’d done it with so much gusto there was no denying her issue with him was a personal one. And why? He wasn’t her father—she had no right.

  And yet, how could she respect a man who treated his daughter the way her father had treated her—with complete indifference?

  Ugh, Emily, you were doing so well. Why did you have to go and ruin it?

  “I told you what happened to me after the accident,” he said quietly.

  “But even before that,” Emily said. “She said you weren’t around much at all.”

  “You don’t know the whole story, Em,” he said quietly.

  “I know enough.”

  “Is this about Jolie . . . ?” He paused as if deciding whether or not to continue. “Or you?” His pointed question smacked her in the face.

  So this was how it felt to be on the receiving end of bluntness.

  The knock on the door did nothing to rattle her. She squared off in front of him, knowing she deserved the discomfort, the turning of the tables—aware that her words had hurt him, though she hadn’t intended them to.

  “This is about Jolie,” she finally said.

  His eyebrow hitched—barely noticeable—and she spun around and walked toward the door, her heart racing in her chest with all the pounding of a Nantucket thunderstorm.

  “I think it’s about you,” he said. “Don’t put your daddy issues on my daughter, Emily.”

  She stopped, her hand on the doorknob, her mouth agape, but when she turned around to get the last word in, she found nothing but an empty hallway.

  Hollis might’ve been a sweet kid once upon a time, but he’d grown up to be an obstinate, stubborn man.

  She pulled the door open and found Jack standing on the porch, cup of coffee in one hand and a stack of papers in the other.

  His sunny smile didn’t match her cloudy mood.

  “You ready to get started?” he asked.

  Yes, I am ready. Let’s get this o
ver with so I can hurry up and sell this place and get off this island.

  “Let’s do it.”

  CHAPTER 22

  THE AIR IN THE COTTAGE was decidedly tense, so Hollis took the long way around the house and out to the backyard. He didn’t need Jack Walker to tell him the patio needed to be torn up, and breaking up the old concrete seemed like a good way to expend some unwanted energy.

  It had been a long time since anyone had talked to him the way Emily did—even Jimmy hadn’t taken those kinds of liberties. Instead, the man had gently led Hollis to the realization that he needed to make things right with Jolie. Emily had all the gentleness of a Mack truck.

  And where did she get off? She didn’t know a thing about his relationship with his daughter.

  Or maybe he was mad because she’d spoken aloud every fear he’d been trying to bury.

  He stuck earbuds in his ears and turned his music up—loud—then picked up a sledgehammer and started to break apart the old concrete slab. He’d make this his project so he could stay away from everyone else and stop thinking about his failures as a father.

  Of course he wanted Jolie to stay longer. It had been over a week, and he’d made no progress. The girl had such a sweetness about her—with everyone but him. How did he break through that?

  His mind spun back to the day Jana called with the news she was pregnant. If he could rewind the clock, he’d return to that moment. He couldn’t imagine going back any further because even though he regretted his short-lived nonrelationship with Jana, he didn’t regret having Jolie—not for a second.

  Had he miscommunicated that? Had his other regrets—the accident, the way he handled his recovery, the loss of his career—somehow told his daughter that she was the reason for his pain?

  The music blared in his ears, and he swung the hammer furiously. His biceps and shoulders ached, but he kept going, determined to rid the yard of the ugly slab by sheer force. Who needed a jackhammer when he had angst and fury?

  Jana had been one of those girls—the kind who appeared as if out of thin air—at the same bar as the team after a game. Hollis had been in a slump, and his mood was sour. In hindsight, he should’ve headed back to the hotel and gone to bed, but the guys had convinced him to go out.

  Enter Jana. Long-legged, curvy, beautiful Jana—who wore too much makeup and had very few ambitions. That night, her only goal had been to land herself in the bed of a pro baseball player, and Hollis was just drunk enough to oblige.

  Immediately he regretted sleeping with her. He didn’t even know her. The guys called it a “perk” of being a pro athlete, but even at his lowest, Hollis still knew what was right—and spending a night with a complete stranger was the exact opposite of that.

  He vowed to do better. It wasn’t like Jana had been his first mistake—but weeks later when he found out she was pregnant, he decided to make sure she was his last.

  The phone call had come after a game that proved his slump was over. A home run, two doubles, and a game-winning RBI had Hollis walking on air. The team went out to celebrate and Hollis actually had the thought that life couldn’t get much better than it was at that moment.

  That’s when his phone rang. A number he didn’t recognize, so he didn’t answer. A beep signaled a new voice mail, which he decided to ignore.

  The next morning, he woke up with a headache, slightly hungover. The night had gotten away from him as so many of them did. It wasn’t until he’d been up for an hour that he remembered the voice mail.

  “Hollis, it’s Jana—the, uh, girl from the bar in Denver.” She sighed. “Do you even remember me? We, uh . . . I mean, I . . .” A pause. “I need you to call me back.”

  Hollis groaned. He’d heard about girls becoming obsessed with pro athletes—one of his buddies had to file a restraining order on a girl who actually thought they were married—but it had been over a month, almost two, and Jana hadn’t done anything to make him think their one-night stand was anything more than that—one night.

  She didn’t seem like a stalker, and while he’d said he’d call her (and hadn’t), she didn’t even sound angry in her message.

  Maybe she had a disease. Had they used protection? He was usually so careful—and one-night stands weren’t his thing—but wouldn’t that just be his luck?

  He dialed her number and listened as the phone rang, his insides turning over.

  “Hey, Hollis,” she answered.

  “Hey.”

  “Bet you never thought you’d hear from me again.”

  He hadn’t, but he didn’t say so. “What’s up?”

  “I’m just going to come right out and say it, and I want you to know I don’t expect you to do anything.”

  His stomach lurched, guessing what she was about to say. Oh no.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  He rubbed a hand over his messy hair, then covered his face. “You’re kidding.”

  “I wish I was.”

  He sighed. “And you’re sure it’s mine?”

  The sound she made in response was so slight he almost didn’t hear it.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

  “It’s yours,” she said coldly.

  He stood and walked toward the window.

  “You probably want me to get rid of it, but I—”

  “No,” he said. “I don’t want that at all.”

  “You don’t?”

  He closed his eyes. This changed everything. And while you’d never know it by the way he was living, he still had a moral compass. “Of course I don’t.”

  “Most guys . . .” She stopped. “I’m just surprised, I guess.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “No,” she said. “I was calling to tell you because you have a right to know, but I’m keeping it. That’s not up for debate.”

  “Good.”

  “Good.”

  The pause was every bit as pregnant as Jana, but probably more uncomfortable—at least at this stage.

  “So we should maybe . . .” He looked around the stark hotel room, wishing for some flashing sign to tell him exactly what to do next. “Maybe we should get married?”

  She laughed. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  He could just hear the guys now—they’d say she’d trapped him, that he should send her some money and call it done. But those guys didn’t grow up with Jeffrey and Nan McGuire for parents. Hollis believed in taking responsibility for his actions, and whether this child could be called a “mistake” or not, sleeping with Jana was, in fact, a mistake.

  “I’m not going to marry you, Hollis,” Jana said. “I don’t even know you. And you don’t want to marry me.”

  He was ashamed to admit the relief he felt at her words.

  “I’m just trying to do the right thing here,” he said.

  “Well, I’m not one of those girls who tries to trap a rich guy into marrying me by getting myself pregnant. The truth is, I’ve never done anything like that before.”

  “It’s not something I make a habit of either,” Hollis said.

  “I thought my boyfriend was going to propose to me, but instead he broke up with me. Said he was in love with someone else. We were long distance, so there’s no way this baby is his,” Jana said. “But I was in a bad place that night.”

  She wasn’t the only one. He’d let that slump rob him of his common sense. Of course this would happen to him now, when he was back on top of his game.

  “So what do you need from me?”

  “Nothing, Hollis. I know from everything I’ve read about you that you’re a stand-up guy, but you don’t owe me anything. You’re going to have a kid out here in the world, and I didn’t think it was fair to keep that from you. That’s the only reason I called.”

  She was letting him off the hook.

  And while there were plenty of guys who would’ve been perfectly fine with that, Hollis wasn’t one of them. A week later, he called Jana back and told her that t
hough they might not be a couple, he still wanted to be a part of his child’s life.

  And he had been—sort of.

  But he should’ve done better. He should’ve made JoJo a priority instead of an afterthought once everything else was taken care of.

  He’d been so excited when she was born, but it was hard to be there the way he should’ve been when she didn’t live with him. Or maybe that was just another excuse.

  Then the accident happened and the only thing that mattered after that was making a comeback. And the only thing that mattered after the comeback was maintaining his career. And keeping his method of doing so hidden from everyone in his life.

  It didn’t matter that he was moody and distant or even unreachable. It didn’t matter that his daughter was growing up without him. His parents would take Jolie for long weekends, but Hollis spent those weekends in the gym. Jana would send him notes about her school events, but he was always too busy.

  And sometimes, as much as he hated to admit it, he was even mean.

  Those days were what carved the divide between himself and Jolie. Those days were what made his only child think she was unwanted, unloved.

  And that was his fault.

  He’d been swinging the sledgehammer with such force, lost in the mire of years gone by, that he didn’t see his daughter standing in front of him, waving at him with one hand and holding a tall glass of lemonade in the other.

  He tugged the earbuds out and dragged the back of his arm across his forehead, wiping the sweat from one body part to another. “Sorry.”

  He was breathless, anxious, irritated.

  “Emily said I should bring you this,” his daughter said. “I guess you’ve been working like a maniac or something?”

  “Is that what she said?”

  “Yep.” She held the tall glass out toward him, giving it a slight shake, the ice cubes clinking along its side.

  “What else did she say?”

  “Something about you being as stubborn as you ever were.” Jolie shrugged. “Are you two fighting?”

  Hollis took the glass and downed half of its contents in one gulp. “No, we’re not fighting.”