“I’m so sad for you,” she murmured, her words muffled by his shirt. “You must miss them so much.”
He nodded and tightened his arms around her, clinging to the warmth and innocence in her embrace, craving what he’d lost that day and finding a glimmer of it in this beautiful young girl. How was it that her pure offer of sympathy hit so much harder than all the expressions of grief and condolences he’d endured? His eyes stung, and he pinched them closed.
“I miss them terribly.”
After a moment, she loosened her hold and he released her, but it was almost a minute before he could unclench his jaw. He squatted in front of her gripping her shoulders, and when he met her gaze, the smile that curved his lips and lightened his heart was genuine.
“But you know what?” he asked.
“What?”
“You and your mom are helping.”
“We are?”
He nodded. “So much more than I can say.” He glanced up at her mother and smiled. “I have hope again.”
“Hey! That’s my mom’s name!”
Laughing softly and with his eyes still locked with Hope’s, he replied, “I know it is, sweet pea. Rather fitting, if you ask me.”
Suddenly, she noticed the shell on the table, and awe washed across her face. “Oh… wow. Is this one of the shells you found?”
“It is. The first one.”
“Where’s the other one?”
“I don’t display it.” Before the insatiably curious little girl could ask why and open the lid on memories he preferred stayed locked away, he offered an explanation. “It’s not as pretty, and it doesn’t have a fun story like this one.”
“Oh. Okay.”
He let out a breath, thankful she was content with that answer.
Later, after dinner while Hope helped him with the dishes and Daphne finished her movie, he caught his date frowning on several occasions. At first, he ignored it but after the fifth time, he dropped the plate he was washing back into the soapy water and tilted his head to study her expression.
“What’s on your mind?”
Again, her brows furrowed as she slipped deeper into thought. “Are you serious about a relationship with me? Even knowing the baggage that comes with it?”
“If you’re talking about Daphne, she’s hardly baggage. She’s an amazingly sweet little girl, Hope, and she’s an incredible bonus to dating you.”
“Well, that’s wonderful to hear,” she said, ducking her gaze with a shy smile, “but I was referring to my ex-husband.”
“What about him?”
“At some point, if we stay together long enough, you’ll have to deal with him.”
“So?”
“That’s a lot of baggage.”
“Do I look put off?”
She narrowed her eyes, and after a moment, she laughed. “No, you look rather full of yourself, like you think it’ll be all sunshine and rainbows.”
“Believe me, I’ve been alive long enough and lived through enough to know that life has plenty of storms and dark nights.” He contemplated the uncertainty shadowing her smile. “It’s been three years for me, and that’s plenty long enough. But maybe it hasn’t been long enough for you.”
She inhaled deeply, held it, and then let it out slowly. “Not really. I have to be honest with you. I didn’t expect to start dating so soon.”
“That’s not much of an answer.” He reached for her and tenderly touched her cheek, but she didn’t look at him. “Hope.”
Meeting his gaze, she sighed.
“I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for,” he said. “If you aren’t ready for this, that’s fine. Just say so. I’ll understand.”
“That’s not it. It’s just….” Suddenly, she smiled. “Unexpected.”
He laughed and took her by the chin. When she didn’t resist, he pressed his lips lightly to hers. “So, does that mean we’re moving in a direction and a speed you’re comfortable with?”
“Considering the fact that I initiated the first gesture of intimacy, it’d be a tad hypocritical of me to say no, don’t you think?”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
She laughed again, softer. God, he loved that sound. He loved it even more when she threaded her arms around his neck and angled her body into his, leaning back in his arms to gaze adoringly at him.
“The answer to your question is yes. Maybe it’s sooner than I expected, but it feels right, and I want to run with it.”
Seven
“I can’t believe how many people came out for this,” Hope remarked as she strolled along the paved path through the dunes. One hand rested in the crook of Owen’s elbow and the other gripped her daughter’s hand. “This is amazing. It looks like the entire town is out here.”
“Pretty close,” Owen replied. “It’s one of the biggest fundraisers for the schools.”
The first leg of the Fun Run started at the northern beach access and traveled along the highway, which was currently lined on one side with cars and on the other with booths selling various refreshments. The second leg returned via the dunes walking path. Most people walked at a leisurely pace and a few jogged, but even with the varied paces and the large crowd, the foot traffic was all headed the same direction today, and there was little in the way of congestion or collisions.
Hope, Daphne, and Owen had jogged a bit early—it was the Fun Run, after all—but he was still recovering from his whirlwind trip to Mendocino, and the day was so exquisitely clear that they wanted to slow down and savor it.
The fine weather wasn’t the only thing Hope was savoring. Memories of last night swirled deliciously through her mind, and she could still feel Owen’s lips pressed to hers, the warmth and strength of his arms around her, and later, the weight of his head on her shoulder when he’d drifted off in the middle of watching the rest of Finding Nemo with Daphne. She’d forgotten how nice it was to watch a man sleep, to enjoy that quiet, uncomplicated closeness with him.
“Feeling a little more rested?” she asked, smiling up at him.
“Yeah. Sorry I fell asleep on you guys last night.”
“You won’t hear me complain.” Grinning wider, she added, “You’re pretty cute when you’re asleep.”
“Thanks,” he replied with a chuckle. He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
“You seem to be laboring under the impression that there’s something to make up for, and I guess as long as you are, I should ask how you plan to make up for whatever it is you think you need to—”
The shock as much as the kiss itself cut off her words. Lord almighty, the man was fast, and he could kiss. She’d never been much of a kisser herself, but the way he did it—clasping her face and drawing her body against his in the middle of a stream of people like he couldn’t get close enough to her and didn’t care who was watching—took her breath away.
Then he pulled away and started walking again like nothing had happened. Well, not totally like nothing had happened. A smug grin lit up his entire countenance.
Blushing, Hope glanced down at her daughter. Daphne watched her with a strange light in her eyes—part curiosity, part surprise, and part something that looked a lot like joy.
“What?” Hope asked her.
“You’re happy. Like… really happy.”
“Of course I am.” Hope grabbed her daughter around the waist and picked her up, settling her on her hip even though Daphne was now so big it was a struggle to do it. “It’s a beautiful day, and I get to spend it with my most favorite girl in the whole wide world.”
Daphne opened her mouth to contradict that, but instead she only frowned. Then she threw her arms around Hope’s neck and squeezed. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Hope murmured, wondering what thought her daughter wrestled with but didn’t have the words to articulate.
Suddenly, she realized Owen had stopped walking. Turning back to him, she sa
w him staring ahead with his mouth pressed into a flat line, so she followed his gaze, pondering his sour expression as she immediately recognized the waitress from the Salty Dog Chowder House—his sister, Erin. She stood with another, exquisitely beautiful woman with long, wavy silver hair. The older woman’s facial features and build were so similar to Erin’s that she had to be the siblings’ mother. After a moment, Owen sighed and started forward again. Hope set Daphne on her feet, took her daughter’s hand, and reached for Owen’s. He twined his fingers with hers and flashed a smile at her.
“What was that?” Erin asked when they reached her and the other woman.
“What was what?” Owen replied evasively.
“That back there. That kiss!”
He raised his brows. “You know what it was, and yet you’re asking me?”
Sensing his unease, Hope extended her hand to his sister. “I know we’ve met, but perhaps a more proper introduction is warranted. I’m Hope St. Cloud, and this is my daughter, Daphne.”
“Erin McKinney,” the younger woman replied. Glancing at her brother, she scowled. “And I’m this brute’s sister, in case he neglected to mention it.”
“He didn’t.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hope and Daphne. I’m Andra,” the older woman said, shaking Hope’s hand as she offered it. “I am Owen and Erin’s mother.”
“It’s wonderful to meet you, too,” Hope remarked. “Beautiful name.”
“Short for Alexandra,” Owen said, still holding his sister’s glare with one of his own. “But Alex or Lexi or anything along those lines are far too mainstream for the unique powerhouse that is my mother.”
“So, are you going to explain yourself or what?” Erin demanded of him.
“I’m going to go with ‘or what’.”
“And I’m not going to let you. Three years, Owen, without so much as a single date. I’m sure you can imagine our shock at seeing you kiss a woman in the middle of the Fun Run with the whole town as an audience. When were you planning to tell us?”
“When I was ready.”
“And when, exactly, were you going to be ready?”
Several seconds passed in silence between them. Erin stared down her brother with unyielding determination, and when Hope’s gaze slid from her to Owen, she stepped back. His eyes were bright with pain, and though she’d seen it in his eyes before, it had never been so bare or so close to the surface. Andra reached over and gripped her son’s shoulder, but the reassuring smile he offered her convinced no one that he was all right. It didn’t reach his eyes, and it took him too much effort to force it.
“Please don’t push it, Erin,” he murmured, lowering his gaze at last.
“But I just want—”
“Erin,” Andra interrupted. “Enough. When he’s ready to let us in on the details, he will.”
“We were planning to play on the beach after the fun run,” Hope said. “Why don’t you join us?”
“If it’s all right with Owen,” Andra said, waiting a beat to gauge her son’s response, “that sounds like fun.”
They finished the Fun Run and slipped away to a quiet section of beach. With so many people out and about today, it wasn’t easy, but they claimed a stretch of soft, dry sand just below the line of driftwood that the tides and storms had pushed up against the dunes. Erin didn’t seem entirely appeased and shot frequent hooded glances at her brother. Andra was far more cheerful than her daughter and plucked blades from the grasses that blanketed the sand dunes while Owen and Daphne went in search of shells. When they’d found enough for whatever Owen had in mind, mother and son showed Daphne how to make necklaces from the grass and shells.
Erin sat beside Hope on a log that had long ago been worn smooth by the sand and waves and silvered by the sun and storms. For a long while, they sat in silence, observing the impromptu art lesson.
“If you’re in the market for the last piece to complete your picture-perfect family, you won’t find many better than my brother,” Erin remarked at last. She wasn’t smiling—not quite—but fondness for her sibling radiated from her like the warmth of the late spring sun overhead. “The man was made to be a dad.”
“I don’t know what I’m in the market for,” Hope replied. “Or if I’m even in the market.”
She didn’t say it out loud, but watching Owen play with Daphne made it impossible to keep her promise not to compare him to her ex-husband. Dan had never paid Daphne the kind of attention Owen did, and when he’d tried, it wasn’t ever as natural. Dan just wasn’t cut out to be a parent, and considering his childhood and his parents, she even understood why. Owen came from a broken home, too, but at least he’d had a strong mother to make sure he knew what it was to love and be loved. Dan had been bounced from one parent back to the other and treated like the burden he was to them. How could he possibly be expected to have the same paternal drive and instincts Owen did?
Before the seed of guilt could take root, she ripped it out. Maybe he didn’t have the instinct, but Dan was an adult and fully capable of making the kinds of choices to make up for his lack of innate knowledge. If he couldn’t look to his parents as examples of what to do, he could’ve looked to them as examples of what not to do. Instead, he’d done neither and chosen to not be a parent, leaving Hope to do everything for Daphne.
“You’re definitely right about your brother,” she remarked. “He’s such a natural with kids, and to be honest, I think we’re both happy right now to let things happen as they will. There’s no pressure, and after my divorce, that’s incredibly refreshing.”
Erin dropped her gaze to the sand, and she traced patterns in it with a stick for almost a minute before she replied. “I know he told me not to push it, but I can’t help it. I lost my brother when Sam and Sean died, and he’s been getting better and better, but he’s still not the same Owen he used to be.”
“I’m not sure a person can ever be who they were before a loss like that. That doesn’t mean they can’t be an even better person than they were before. Wiser. More appreciative.”
“You’re right, of course. It was just so hard to watch him hurt like that, and every time I see that look in his eyes again… it makes my heart break for him all over again.”
“I’m sure it does.”
“I just want to see him happy again.”
“Of course you do. He’s your brother.”
Hope watched Owen tie the grass-and-shell necklace around Daphne’s neck right below the one he’d given her that she only took off when she was in the bath. Perhaps she should be concerned that her daughter was already so attached to a man who might be in her life for only a moment, but she couldn’t bring herself to worry about it. She couldn’t see how a little more love could be a bad thing. If this didn’t work out, then yes, that would break Daphne’s heart, but even heartbreak had a purpose; it was a valuable lesson on self-reliance.
And anyhow, Hope trusted Owen.
No matter what happened, she believed with a powerful certainty that Owen would do everything he could to spare her daughter from the worst of the pain.
“Hey, Erin!” Owen called. “You wanna come help Mom show Daph how to weave a mat? You’re better at it than I am.”
“Sure.” Erin pushed to her feet and stood on her toes to kiss her brother’s cheek as they passed each other. “All I’m gonna say is bring her around again, okay?”
Owen only nodded and sat where his sister had on the log. “Sorry to leave you alone with the wolf like that, but I couldn’t sit and let her needle me. I know she means well, but sometimes, I just can’t deal with it.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Hope narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “She loves you, you know.”
“I know she does.” Sighing, he leaned back, bracing his hands on the log behind them. “But I have a lot of guilt where she’s concerned.”
“Guilt? Over what?”
“She broke up with her boyfriend—the most serious relationship she’s ever had—right before
the accident, and I wasn’t there for her. All our lives, I’ve made sure she could count on me to be there for her, but when it really mattered—when she most needed me—I wasn’t.”
“Owen, you lost your wife and your son. What’s a breakup compared to that? Even a divorce?” She rested her head on his shoulder and tucked her arm around his waist, offering whatever comfort she could. “I’m sure she understands.”
He shook his head. “On a logical level, I’m sure she does, but the heart is rarely logical. And me not telling her about us probably feels like another betrayal.”
Hope started to tell him that his sister was plenty old enough to get over it, but her mind snagged on a single word he’d said. He could’ve said “not telling her about you”, but he hadn’t. He’d said us.
Her marriage had ended officially just six short months ago, but it felt like it had been years since she’d been part of an us, and her heart did a funny little flip-flop—not the kind of flip-flop that brought a surge of panic like it had done so often over the last few years but rather the kind that kindled a warm glow deep in her chest.
“If that’s the case,” she said slowly, “maybe you should just tell her about us. What there is to tell.”
He tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed the top of her head. “You’re right. I wanted to keep you to myself a little while longer, but Erin is more important to me than my selfishness. So… would you be all right if I invite her and Mom to our summer solstice bonfire next Sunday?”
“Our what?” Then a memory popped into focus of the mile-long beach lit up by dozens and dozens of bonfires. “Oh!”
She remembered her father telling her the townsfolk of Sea Glass Cove gathered on the beach every solstice and equinox to celebrate the changing of the seasons and to reaffirm their sense of community, but she hadn’t been to one of them since high school.
The Abalone Shell Page 5