An Unexpected Father

by Lisa Ruff

  AFTER HIS RUN to the grocery store, Ian found his brother, handed him the keys to his truck and bid him farewell.

  Patrick hugged him tightly. “Call me when you get to St. Martin. I’ll join you for the jump to the ditch.”

  Ian packed his groceries into Minerva’s icebox, then stopped in the office to say goodbye to his mother. She hung up the phone as soon as she saw him.

  “Patrick says you’re leaving today,” she said. “Were you going to bother to tell your parents?”

  “Of course. I’m leaving, Ma. Bye.” Ian waved and turned around.

  “Stop right there, young man!”

  Ian froze, then smiled at himself ruefully. Thirty-three and still powerless against his mother’s voice. He turned to face her as she came around the counter. Elaine wore a fierce frown and he expected a severe reprimand. Instead, when she reached him, she put her arms around him in a strong embrace. His arms encircled her just as tightly and he rested his chin on her red curls. They stood like that for a long moment, wordless.

  She pulled away, gripping his arms above the elbow as he kept his hands at her waist. “I know you’ve waited for this a long time. Be safe. Have an adventure, but be safe. I’m so glad you’re following your dreams.”

  She was still frowning and Ian could see she was trying to hide tears. “Ma—”

  “We’ll come see you after Christmas. Let us know where you’re going to be.”

  Ian smiled and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Ma. I will.”

  The door opened and Antonio walked inside. “Here you are. I was just down at Minerva. You’re set to go?”

  “Everything’s ready.”

  “You have charts for Maine?” Antonio asked with a frown. “It was not on your original itinerary. And I don’t mean those electronic ones. Never trust those things.”

  “I’m good to go, Pop. I’ve got charts, paper and electronic ones both.”

  “Good.” Antonio nodded, then reached out and hugged Ian, as well, pounding him on the back several times. When he drew away, he held Ian’s shoulders, shaking him a little. “Be careful. We will miss you.”

  “Thanks, Pop. I’ll miss you, too.”

  “We’ll come help you with the lines,” Elaine said.

  “I’d rather you didn’t.” Ian touched her on the arm. “Let’s not make a big deal about this, okay?”

  Elaine nodded. “Call us when you can. Write when you can’t.”

  “I won’t be that far away yet. I’ll call when I get to Block Island.”

  Ian kissed her cheek again and gripped his father’s hand. Then he turned and left them. Glancing back over his shoulder, he saw Antonio take Elaine into his arms. They would miss him, Elaine especially, but neither of them would ever think of stopping him. In the past, every time he changed his plans—even when his father was ill—they had argued. Go, they had said. Take hold of your dreams. Ian swallowed down a lump of pride. He couldn’t ask for better parents.

  When he reached Minerva, Ian climbed aboard. He scanned the deck and the rig, mentally checking that each piece of gear was ready. Down below, everything was shipshape and quiet. There was nothing left to do but start the motor. He sat down at the nav desk, strangely hesitant to put the key into the ignition. He thought about his parents again. They always wanted the best for their children, regardless of what it cost them personally. His leaving pained them, but they wouldn’t let him see their tears. They only gave encouragement and support.

  Ian rubbed a hand across his face. In the same way, his leaving Jack and Mimi hurt him. He would miss them immensely. But he had to believe his departure would be better for them. Jack would discover his father. Maybe Mimi and Johnny could find a way to raise their son together. In both cases, the odds were better if Ian Berzani disappeared for a while.

  A pounding of footsteps broke his contemplation. As if conjured from Ian’s thoughts, Jack appeared in the companionway. He stood in the sunlight, glaring at Ian. Slowly, Ian stood. “Hey, runt. What’s up?”

  “You made my mom cry. You’re a jerk. A…an asshole.” The boy spit out the slur defiantly, wielding it as a weapon.

  Ian blinked, bewildered. Was he dreaming this? Everything seemed so real. “Hey, wait a minute here. What are you talking about?”

  “She cried all night. I heard her. It’s your fault!” His eyes dared Ian to deny the accusation.

  Ian began to understand. Of course Mimi had cried last night. So had he. Apparently Jack had overheard it and blown it out of proportion. “I didn’t mean to. I like your mom.”

  “You do not. You hate her! You’re mean. You made her cry just like you made me cry. I hate you!” With the spill of words, Jack launched himself at Ian from the companionway steps, fists flailing. The attack so surprised Ian that the boy got in two or three blows before Ian caught his wrists and subdued him into a twisting writhe of indignation. “Lemme go!”

  “I will. After you calm down,” Ian said, keeping Jack tucked close to him. “I hate you,” Jack said again, but there were tears in his voice.

  “Please, Jack. Don’t say that.”

  But the words spilled out of him, “I hate you, I hate you,” again and again, like a volcano of feelings that had no end. He tried to kick and punch. He tried to bite. Anything but listen to reason.

  Ian held him tight, whispering, “Calm down, Jack. It’s okay,” like a soothing mantra. Slowly the boy went limp. Weary and exhausted, he sagged against Ian’s grip. As he did, the child began to weep in huge gusts of air. His mouth opened, his eyes scrunched shut in agony.

  Ian let go of the thin wrists and picked him up in his arms. Cradling him, Ian sat and rocked the boy back and forth in his lap, instinctively trying to ease the pain. Jack buried his face in Ian’s neck as the tears continued to fall, clutching a hand into Ian’s shirt. Ian rested his face against Jack’s and found himself humming a tuneless reassurance to him.

  It occurred to Ian that his father had done the same for him when he was young. More than once, probably, when some unknowable, unfixable feeling had overwhelmed his small soul. Gradually, the tense body relaxed in Ian’s arms. The sobs eased; the tremors diminished. After a while, Ian realized Jack had gone to sleep, worn-out from the force of his emotions.

  Sitting still, Ian held the boy, unwilling to move. Jack was a warm weight in his arms that felt right. With a shift of position, Ian leaned back into the corner of the settee, stretching his legs out and resting his feet on the opposite seat. His heart ached for Jack’s sorrow, but what could he do for him? What would Antonio have done for him? Ian smiled at the comparison. What did a father do, really? Protect, discipline, comfort, provide, guide, cherish. He had done all those things for Jack. It didn’t matter that there was no blood between them. It didn’t matter that Jack had a father. He and Jack had forged a bond that had proved just as valuable and durable as that between any father and son.

  Ian gazed down at Jack, asleep, tear-streaked and flushed and very innocent-looking. Brushing the hair away from Jack’s eyes, Ian felt a knot inside himself loosen. “I love you, Jack,” he said aloud. It seemed like those words were far too long overdue.

  Resting his head against the back of the cushions, Ian closed his eyes. Now that he’d admitted his love for this boy—and for his mother—he pondered the next step. Though Mimi hadn’t said the words, Ian knew her passion of the day before—and her tears last night—meant that she loved him. In fact, she loved him enough to let him go and follow his dreams. Imagining her in bed alone with her tears, he swallowed. He couldn’t allow that any more than he could stand aside and let Jack suffer. Johnny Sinclair be damned! He could not let the man trump his own love for Jack and Mimi.

  Jack stirred and Ian opened his eyes. The boy’s eyelashes fluttered once, then lifted slowly. He looked up at Ian, bewildered. As memory slowly returned, he struggled to rise and Ian let him slip away. Taking the handkerchief that Ian offered, Jack blew his nose while Ian poured him a glass of water. He handed it to the boy and s
at beside him on the settee. Silence stretched between them as Jack drank.

  “I’m sorry I made your mom cry,” Ian said finally. Pausing a beat, he added, “I’m sorry I made you cry, too.”

  Jack shrugged, keeping his eyes on the glass in his hands. He took another sip of water. Ian sighed, unsure of how to go forward. He knew what he wanted, but what Jack wanted had yet to be discovered. The boy was giving him no help, either. He tried again. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Then how come you didn’t come over?” Jack shot a glance at Ian.

  “I thought you didn’t want to see me. After Sunday.” Ian raised a brow and Jack shrugged again. He continued, “And you’ve had a visitor these past few days, too.”

  “Johnny Sinclair,” Jack said, his eyes lighting up a bit. “He’s great.”

  “Yeah. Pretty cool to have him visit you.”

  “He’s my dad,” Jack said matter-of-factly. He set his empty glass on the table while Ian simply stared.

  “He told you that?”

  “No. No one did.”

  “You figured that out yourself?”

  Jack snorted. “Just because I’m nine doesn’t mean I don’t know nothing.” The boy had an all-too-knowing smirk on his face.

  Ian laughed. So much for keeping secrets from the kid. He sobered and looked over at Jack again. “How do you feel about that?”

  “I don’t know,” Jack said, squirming a little. “I mean, he’s my dad and all, but he’s not my dad, y’know?”

  “I know.” Ian nodded. He put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Sometimes, you have more than one dad.”

  Jack nodded as if this was common knowledge. “You’re kinda my dad.” He glanced at Ian, flushed a little and turned away. But in that second, Ian saw eyes that were very blue and earnest. And hopeful.

  Ian’s heart swelled. “That’s just what I was thinking. So what are we going to do about it?”

  Jack thought for a while. “You could marry my mom.”

  “I’ve thought about that, too. You wouldn’t mind?”

  “Uh-uh.” He was silent, picking at the welting on the edge of the cushion. “But would you have to go away?” he asked.

  “No. I couldn’t go away. I’d be the kind of father that stayed right here.” Ian squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “Unless you and your mom came with me.”

  The possibility seemed to stun Jack, then he raised his eyes to Ian’s again. This time they shone with excitement. “We could do that? Yeah!”

  “Maybe someday, but you have to get through school.”

  Jack frowned, then his face cleared. “I can learn at home, like Stephanie in sailing class. She doesn’t go to school. Her mom teaches her and she has homework and everything.”

  Ian laughed and shook his head. The kid was miles ahead of him. “We’ll have to see about that. I don’t even know if your mom would want to marry me.”

  “She would. She likes you a lot.”

  “You think so?” Jack made it sound so simple. So easy. “I suppose I’d have to ask her.”

  “I’ll go ask her,” Jack said, bouncing up.

  “Wait a minute, there,” Ian said, but Jack was already up the companionway steps.

  “Come on!” Jack’s voice floated back down into the boat. Ian heard the smack of feet on the dock as the boy jumped off.

  Ian scrambled after Jack with a laugh. He had to catch him before he arranged the wedding, honeymoon and the rest of his life. Moments like this could not be rushed.

  He caught up with Jack in the parking lot and together they walked toward the Laughing Gull. Ian’s long strides just barely kept up with Jack’s eager bounds. When Jack’s hand found his, Ian felt light and happy.

  WHEN ANTONIO AND Elaine Berzani walked into the bar, Mimi was surprised. She had never seen them outside the marina. Then she felt a sharp pain in her heart. Just the sight of them was enough to remind her of Ian. George stepped out from behind the bar to greet them, pulling out a chair for Elaine, kissing her cheek and slapping Antonio on the back.

  While they talked, Mimi turned her attention to a glass of cabernet she was pouring. She set it down in front of a woman at the end of the bar and pulled a pint of Guinness for the man sitting next to her. The Gull was busy for this early in the afternoon, regulars already starting to drift in for an end-of-the-week celebration.

  George came to the bar, filled a glass with chardonnay and another with ice and a healthy dose of scotch. His face was grim. Mimi came over and touched him on the arm. He picked up two cocktail napkins, not looking at her.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “He left,” George said abruptly. “Today. About an hour ago, Elaine said.”

  Mimi uttered the only thing that came to mind, her voice thin and far away. “But he said he was leaving next week.”

  “Antonio said the boat was ready, so he left.” George stopped, his jaw working. “No fanfare. He didn’t even want his parents to see him off.”

  Mimi just stared at him. Her brain refused to accept what she had heard.

  Her father’s eyes met hers. “I’m sorry, Mim.”

  Closing her eyes tightly, Mimi tried to dam the tears that had been falling off and on since yesterday. One slipped down her cheek before she wiped it away. George hugged her tightly and she clung to him for a long minute. Drawing back, she swallowed and took the napkins he held out to her, pressing them to her eyes.

  “I need a minute, Dad.” Her voice was clogged with the sorrow she was trying not to let loose.

  “Take all the time you need.” He stroked a hand over her face. “I wish it had worked out differently.”

  Mimi pressed her lips together and nodded. Slipping past him, she went out the side door and stood on the patio, staring sightlessly in front of her. A sob fought its way out of her throat. She tried to force it back, but it wrenched from her in a hoarse cry as tears began falling hard and fast. Mimi cursed herself for letting Ian go and at the same time wondered how she could have asked him to stay. She loved him and wanted him to pursue his dreams, just as she had done. She wrapped her arms around herself, offering what comfort she could. It wasn’t enough.

  “Oh, there you are!” Claire’s voice startled Mimi and she jumped. Her mother had come down the path from the house. “Have you seen—Oh, my dear! What’s wrong?” Claire drew her daughter into an embrace.

  Mimi fell into her arms unhesitatingly. Shaking with sobs, she clung to her mother tightly. “He’s gone,” she managed to say.

  “Who? Jack?”

  “No. Ian.” Mimi choked and gasped for breath. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with him.”

  “I know, dear. Sometimes love just happens.”

  The embrace that had soothed her so often as a child was warm and comforting again. Mimi lifted her head from her mother’s shoulder and wiped her wet cheeks. Claire gave her a lace-edged handkerchief.

  As Mimi tidied herself, Claire gently stroked a hand over her daughter’s hair, smoothing it from her brow. “When did you hear about this?”

  “Just now. Ian’s parents are inside,” Mimi said, her voice trembling.

  “Oh, you poor dear.” She was silent as she studied Mimi’s face. Then she glanced around worriedly. “I was looking for Jack. I don’t suppose you’ve seen him?”

  Mimi frowned. “Not since I brought him back from school. He went to his room and refused lunch.”

  “Yes, and when I went upstairs a while ago, he wasn’t there. I thought he might have sneaked over here. I’m sorry to bother you with this now.”

  “No. I’m fine.” Mimi steadied herself to face this new problem. “Well, he’s not with Ian. We know that much.”

  “Maybe Elaine or Antonio saw Jack.”

  Mimi turned and pulled open the door to the bar without another word. Claire followed her inside and they went to the table where the Berzanis sat. There was a round of greetings. Antonio gave Mimi an especially consoling pat on the back. Elaine offered her a comforting hug, too.
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  Mimi wasn’t surprised that Ian’s parents knew something had happened between her and their son. The yard—and Crab Creek—was a small place. She simply appreciated their compassion. Tears welled up again, but her concern for Jack trumped her sadness. She began to ask if they had seen her son on their way to the Gull. Before she could finish, the door to the bar burst open and Jack raced inside.

  In that instant, Mimi felt equal parts relief that her son was safe and amazement that he appeared to be so happy. Something had changed him. Two seconds later, she—and everyone else around the table—was stunned to see Ian walk through the door.

  “Mom! Mom!” Jack rushed up to her and threw his arms around her waist. “Guess what?”

  Bewildered by the sight of both of them, Mimi felt faint. The force of Jack’s hug alone nearly knocked her over. Mimi knelt and wrapped her arms around Jack, as much to return his embrace, as to regain some equilibrium. “Where have you been?” She looked at his shining face, grinning at her. “Grandmom was worried.”

  “Mo-om! You’re not listening to me.” Jack wiggled impatiently. “Ian’s not leaving!”

  Mimi’s gaze flew to Ian’s, unable to believe what Jack had said. His dark eyes were sending her a message she didn’t dare trust, either.

  “Are you all right?” Antonio asked his son. “Did something happen?”

  Ian grinned. “Yeah. I suppose you could say that.”

  “He wants to get married to us,” Jack said, his hands on Mimi’s shoulders. “Can we?”

  Mimi felt the world stop, as if someone somewhere had pulled the emergency brake. Gazing up into Ian’s eyes, she saw love and longing shining out at her. “I—I…” Was this really happening? Her ears hummed and her heart pounded.

  Ian stepped closer to her and pulled her to her feet. “I love you,” he said softly, yet with a deep intensity that shook her soul. “And Jack, too. I want us to be a family.”