The next night, Sam and Caden ate supper alone. Landon had left after helping paint the living room’s wicker furniture in the backyard while Sam sorted through drawers and closets.
“Why can’t we eat at Landon’s? It’s more fun over there.”
Sam spooned a heap of macaroni and cheese onto her plate. “There’s no more to do over there than there is here.”
“He has games.”
“We have games at home, and you never play.”
“I can’t play them alone.” Caden stabbed the hot dog with her fork and dipped it in mustard.
“Caden, you know I have a lot of work to do. It’s not easy being a single parent.” She hated justifying herself to her child. How could her daughter understand all her responsibilities?
“You should get married. Then I’d have a dad, and you wouldn’t be gone all the time.”
Sam breathed a laugh. “It’s not that simple.”
“Bridget’s mom just got remarried, and now she has a new brother.”
Sam stabbed a piece of macaroni and aimed her fork at her daughter. Why did Caden think she had all the answers at the ripe old age of eleven? “Hey. It’s not like I’m not trying. I have dated, you know.”
Caden harrumphed. “Yeah. Jeremy.”
“There was nothing wrong with Jeremy.” Other than the way he called constantly and showed up at their door every day, invited or not. It occurred to Sam that Landon did the same thing, yet it didn’t leave her feeling smothered.
“He only talked to me when you were in the room.”
Sam had noticed that, but she wasn’t going to admit it.
“I went on a date yesterday, remember?”
“Amber said he owns a bar and has dated everyone except her mom. Sounds like a real winner.”
Sam clamped her mouth shut. Why did it seem like Caden got along with everyone but her?
“Why can’t you date someone nice like Landon?”
Sam wasn’t sure why it surprised her that Caden had thought of it. “He’s just a friend. Besides, I’ll find my own dates, thank you.”
They finished eating in silence, then she sent Caden to take a bath and decided to tackle the few remaining boxes in the attic. The sooner they finished, the sooner they could leave this place. Somehow, the thought left Sam disquieted.
She was surrounded by a pile of junk when Caden came in from her bath, smelling like a fresh and clean baby. Her daughter settled on the floor somewhere behind Sam. She wondered how long their silence would last.
The box in front of her held items unfit for a secondhand store. Sam shoved it to the door, then opened a bag of Christmas lights and decorations. They smelled musty. When was the last time anyone had put up a tree in this house?
“Mom, look!”
She hadn’t heard so much excitement in Caden’s voice in months. Caden was looking at a picture. Sam scooted beside her to see.
Sam’s mouth went dry. It was a photo taken right before they’d left for the prom.
“It’s my dad, isn’t it?” Caden asked.
Sam had given Caden a picture of her father when she was old enough to ask about him. It was cut from the yearbook Sam had taken from the island, and Caden kept it in a silver frame on her nightstand.
Caden’s lips curved into a wide smile. She looked back at the photo taken in Landon’s front yard. Caden’s father stood between the two of them, his arms curled around Landon and Sam.
“Did Landon know my dad?”
Sam’s mouth worked silently. She was unprepared for this. In the photo, Caden’s father wore his wide, charismatic grin as easily as he wore the black tux. He stood as tall as her in the flats she insisted on wearing. After the photo, they went their separate ways.
“Mom?” Caden’s brows were pinched. “Did he grow up here with you? Did he live around here? Do I have grandparents here?”
Caden’s questions came too fast, a tidal wave in speed and intensity, and Sam wondered if there was any way of stopping it now. If she told Caden, Landon would find out, and she couldn’t stand the thought of that. Maybe she couldn’t stop what was happening, but she could put it off.
“I want to answer your questions, Caden. But I’m going to ask you to wait. Wait until we leave here. When we get back to Boston, I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”
Her face fell. “That’s not fair.”
“I have my reasons. Good ones.” Sam ached inside and wished she’d left Caden in Boston so they wouldn’t be faced with this dilemma.
Tears flooded Caden’s eyes and spilled over. “I deserve to know about my dad! Why won’t you tell me? You’re just being mean!”
“Caden, if I told you now, other people would—” She stopped, not wanting to say too much.
“Other people would what?”
“No one else can know. If I told you, it would be too hard for you to keep it a secret.”
“I can keep a secret.” Just then Caden reminded Sam of herself at her age, with her wet blond hair hanging in strings around her face. She’d kept secrets at her age. Things she still had told no one.
“I’m not a baby.”
“I know you’re not.” Sam wet her lips, giving herself a chance to back out of this, not at all sure she wasn’t being foolish. If Landon found out . . .
Sam saw the sincerity in Caden’s expression. “All right. There’s something I never told you because—well, I didn’t think you’d ever need to know. I never planned to come back here, never planned for you to meet Landon.”
“What? Tell me, Mom.” Fear glimmered in her eyes, dread of what her mother was about to say.
“It’s nothing bad; it’s just . . . you have to promise you won’t tell Landon.”
“Landon?”
“I know that’s a big thing to ask of you. We’ll be here for a couple of more weeks. Do you think you can do that?”
She nodded, wiping her tears. “Was my dad a bad person?” She looked at the photo.
“No, Caden. He was a good guy. The best. He . . . he was Landon’s brother. We grew up together, just like Landon and me.”
“And you were in love?”
Hope brightened her face, and Sam couldn’t dispel it. “I loved Bailey very much.” Caden needn’t know Sam had only loved him as a dear friend.
“Then Landon is my uncle?”
Her childish delight brought a smile to Sam’s lips.
“And his parents are my grandparents!”
Fear stabbed Sam. “Wait, honey. Yes, Landon and his dad are related to you, but his mom passed away, and his dad doesn’t live here anymore. And don’t forget what I said about it being a secret.”
“I don’t understand. Why don’t they know about me?”
“I have my reasons.”
She glared and shoved the box away. “That’s not fair.”
She was right. So much surrounding her life hadn’t been fair. Bailey’s death hadn’t been fair, either—to any of them.
Caden rose to her feet. “I finally have a family, and you won’t let them know about me!”
“You already have a family, Caden. We’re a family.”
Her daughter blinked hard, but a tear escaped. “Some family.” She ran to her room and slammed the door.
Sam closed her eyes and sighed. It had been a mistake to tell her. But it was too late to take it back. She knew better than anyone that second chances were a myth.