DELAINEY WALKED INTO her father’s home and found Thad trying to repair a fishing line. Country music played faintly from the old radio and the house was otherwise empty. She figured Brenda was at the hospital with Harlan, and although she probably should’ve stopped by, after her spat with Trace she didn’t have the emotional strength to tack on a visit to her father’s deathbed, too.
Thad looked up briefly when she walked in, and the first thing she noticed was his cast was gone. She frowned and took a seat at the table opposite her brother. “What happened to your cast?”
“Took it off. Can’t do no work with it on.”
“But you need another week or so, don’t you?”
He stopped and flexed his arm, wincing only a little as he shrugged. “Feels fine to me. Besides, with Pops in the hospital, I figure I need to pick up the slack for the business.”
Delainey remained quiet for a moment and then moved her chair closer to Thad and started helping. She and Thad had been repairing fishing line since they were little, and although it’d been close to ten years since she’d picked up a line, her fingers remembered what to do.
“Why didn’t you call me and tell me that Dad was sick?” she asked.
“He didn’t want no one to know. His pride and all. I wanted to tell you, but you were so far away and it didn’t seem as if you were in an all-fire hurry to visit anytime soon. So why put worries on your shoulders that weren’t going to change nothing? Plus, I know how you and Pops never got along. Figured, well, you might not care.”
Shame crawled over her. Thad was right. She didn’t know if she would’ve cared. Her life in L.A. was all-consuming and she didn’t know if she would’ve made time for the drama of family life back in Alaska. But she should’ve. “Why are you so forgiving?” she asked. “You remember how our childhood was. When he wasn’t beating the hell out of us, he was ignoring that we existed. That’s hard to forget.”
Thad stopped and said, “He can’t change the past. He knows he was a terrible father, and maybe he changed because he wants to make amends or because he’s afraid of what’s waiting for him at the end of his life. But who am I to say that I shouldn’t give him that chance to be a better dad? He’s trying, Laney. Don’t that count for something?”
“If he had changed so much, he would’ve called. He never called me. Not once.”
“Neither did you.”
Delainey dropped her fishing line and glared at her brother. “What do you want me to say? I’m not capable of being the bigger person? Fine. I’m not. I’m selfish and self-centered and shallow. All I care about is myself, and if that’s who I am, then he helped to make me that way.”
She rose and moved away from the table, needing to get some space. She was in a lose-lose situation, and she hated those kinds of battles. She shook out her hands when she realized she was clenching them. “How is it that I’m the bad guy in this situation? I don’t understand. Trace blames me for leaving to focus on my dreams, and my father blames me for remembering that he was a terrible dad. Blame the victim, I guess.”
Thad snorted and she whirled to face him. “What’s that for?” she demanded.
“You. Being the victim. Laney, you’ve never allowed anyone to make you a victim. Ever. Yeah, maybe you’re selfish and self-centered, but you’re also ambitious and determined. I don’t fault you for it and never have. Hell, I wish I had an ounce of your drive. Maybe I’d have my own fishing outfit instead of fishing on someone’s else’s boat. But don’t ever say you’re a victim, because you’re not. Whatever you’re going through, you created for yourself. And that includes Trace.”
She bit her lip, her eyes smarting from the tears that were building. When had her younger brother become so insightful? Seemed somewhere along the way, he’d grown up and she’d totally missed it happening. He wasn’t a kid anymore and he saw way more than most young adults his age. He saw more than she ever had. She wiped at her eyes. “So, what am I supposed to do?” she asked, her words choked by the sudden squeezing of her throat. “I don’t know how to be different even if I wanted to.”
“I don’t know. Maybe you’re not supposed to change,” he offered with a shrug. “The world will keep spinning. I guess it’s up to you to find your place in it and then make peace with yourself wherever you end up.”
Make peace with herself? She wasn’t even sure if that was possible. Part of her was so locked up with anger and resentment and fear that she wasn’t sure if that would ever change. She hated that about herself, and she knew that she used the excuse of work to cover up the dark places that she didn’t want anyone to see. The fact that she hadn’t done a very good job of covering up those ugly spots was a painful revelation. “I want to forgive him. I want to be able to walk into that hospital room without any hang-ups and simply hold his hand as a daughter with a dying father should. But each time I try, my feet won’t move and my fists ball and I’m pissed off all over again.”
“Why?”
“Because he was the only parent we had and I needed him to be better.”
“But he wasn’t. He was who he was and it’s up to you to decide what you’re going to do with that. In the eight years that you’ve been gone, he’s changed. But he’ll never be that guy who gives out hugs and tells funny jokes and who is that warm-and-cuddly person who everyone loves to be around. That’s just not who he is. I came to that realization a long time ago, and when I did it made accepting who he truly is a lot easier.”
“And who is that? Who is he?”
“Pops is the kind of man who is loyal, hardworking, quiet, but he’s not afraid of saying what needs to be said. He doesn’t care if he’s the unpopular opinion, and he’s taught me a thing or two about integrity. He doesn’t make excuses. He just gets the job done. Doesn’t matter if it’s raining, it doesn’t matter if he’s sick—if he says something’s going to get done, you can take it to the bank that it’ll get done. In this day and age, I think that’s pretty rare.”
Delainey stared at her brother. How had she missed so much?
“There were times when Pops went over the line. But it wasn’t all bad. I think you’ve blocked out the times that were good.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, stiffening. “Are you implying that my memory is faulty? Because I remember quite clearly the bruises and the fear.”
“No,” Thad said, shaking his head. “But there were good times.”
“Maybe before Mom died but not after.”
“If that’s how you remember it, nothing I can say is going to change how you feel. All I can say is I disagree. So if you’re going to be mad at our dad for a past he can’t change, at least be sure that you’re remembering it right.”
“I can’t believe you would even suggest that I’m not,” she said, fighting back the urge to cry. “I spent half my childhood trying to protect you from his temper. I took the brunt of his anger so that you wouldn’t go to bed with bruises. It hurts that you would turn this around on me. I don’t regret protecting you, because it was the right thing to do, but to have you sit there and judge me for the aftermath of that protection really stings.”
“I know you protected me. That’s what big sisters do. But I’m not a baby anymore and I’m not a child. I’ve grown up a lot in the last eight years, and I see things a little more clearly than you do right now. I have no doubt that you’ll come to it on your own, but right now your vision is all messed up. Pops used to take us fishing. I remember the both of us taking turns unlacing his boots when he came home after a long stretch on the water. I remember him playing the harmonica for us and dancing. Can you tell me that you don’t remember any of that?”
Delainey opened her mouth to deny it, but snippets of memory surfaced and the echo of childish laughter followed. She remembered unlacing her father’s boots and pulling them off his sodden feet. She remembered how white his toes were after being stuffed inside the boots for more than nineteen hours at a stretch, and she recalled how her father used to smile at her enthusiasm when she tried to rub the wrinkles from his saturated skin. “I remember those things,” she admitted. “But those times did not outnumber the bad.”
“Well, I choose to remember the good stuff. The man is dying. He ain’t gonna get a second chance to make things right. The way you decide to handle your goodbyes is your business.”
Delainey felt chastised, even though her brother hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true. She wiped the tears tracking down her cheeks. “I don’t know what to say,” she admitted. “Maybe there isn’t anything to say.”
Thad nodded and returned to the fishing line. She supposed everything had been said that needed to be said. Her soul felt shredded. She was forcing Trace to do something that went against his nature, and she was looking like the bad guy in her family’s personal drama. Nothing about this trip seemed right. Nothing about her life seemed right. “Do you hate me?” she asked.
“I could never hate you, Laney. You’re my big sister and I love you, but I think your priorities are really screwed up.”
She winced. Yeah, she was beginning to realize that. “If I agreed with you, how do you think I should go about changing that?”
Thad grinned and he looked every bit her younger brother with his boyishly handsome face and his beautiful eyes. “I guess I’d just start changing what you don’t like. But then I’m a simple guy.”
She laughed and wiped the remaining moisture from her eyes. “That’s some pretty good advice. I guess life doesn’t always have to be so complicated.”
“Nope. I always say if your socks are wet, don’t spend time complaining. Just change them and go on with your day.”
Delainey’s smile widened. That’s what she’d been doing. Spending too much time complaining about wet socks. “Since you’re so full of good advice, tell me what I should do about Trace.”
“Can’t help you there. Besides, I think you already know what you need to do about Trace. You don’t need me to tell you.”
“How is it that you’re still single?” she asked, cocking her head at him. “The girls here have got to be dumb not to snatch you up, Thad Clarke. You’re a good guy.”
“Can I put that on my online-dating profile?” he teased, and she rolled her eyes. He chuckled as he returned to the fishing line, checking hooks and reknotting frayed line. “Are you going to help me finish this line, or are you going to take off?” he asked.
But before she could answer, someone else answered for her.
“Sorry, kid, but she’s going home with me.”
Delainey startled, her heart jumping into her throat as Trace appeared from the darkened hallway. “Good God, you scared me.” She hadn’t heard him come in, and she didn’t know how much of the conversation he’d heard, either. But just seeing him standing there, his eyes blazing and brooking no argument, the possession in his voice obvious, she shivered and a smile trembled on her lips. She still hadn’t answered, but when he grabbed her hand and began leading her out of the house, she didn’t fight him.
“Bye, Thad!” she called out and followed Trace out the door.