Hey, Dad,” Gabby said as she walked out along the dock at the lake house the following afternoon. Her dad, who wore his fishing hat and looked relaxed and happy doing his favorite hobby, looked up as she approached.
“Hi, sweetheart. I brought you a pole,” he said. “Have a seat.”
Gabby squinted in the bright sunlight as she sat down next to him on the dock. It was a perfect day, warm, water as calm as her dad’s disposition. “Thanks for bringing me a pole. That was sweet. But did you know I hate fishing?” God, it had only taken her twenty-some years to admit that. She felt the weight of the admission slide off her like a giant sheet of melting ice from a rooftop.
That made him turn his head. His hat was covered with all kinds of multicolored, ridiculous lures, like one with a ladybug head and one that looked like an angry red fish. Gross.
“You hate fishing?”
“Yeah. I hate seeing those poor little things squirm on the hook. Hate how we bait them with big, juicy worms, and they get impaled for it.”
“Wow. How come I never knew this?”
She shrugged. “Because I haven’t been honest with you, Dad. I loved the time we’ve spent together fishing. And I knew you loved fishing. I wanted to love it too.”
“We could’ve found another activity to do together,” he said.
“Maybe we can work on that,” she said, picking up a stick and snapping off little pieces and tossing them into the water. “Cade and I broke up.”
He reeled in his line, to find it empty. “Ah, I’m sorry. I was thinking you’d bring him this weekend.”
“His ex is back and she’s…challenging. I just don’t think he’s ready for another relationship.” Her voice cracked a little at the end, and she was afraid she was going to start crying again.
He chuckled a little, his usual response to almost everything. “Maybe he just needs time. Especially if he’s dealing with the ex.”
“I worry about Ava. I can’t imagine how confusing it must be to have a parent who pops in and out of your life at random. I mean, Cade does such a great job with her but this is…crazy.”
“You love this guy?” her dad asked.
She nodded. “Both of them.”
Her dad slipped his arm around her. He didn’t say anything else for a long time, but it felt great to feel his comforting presence.
“Work going okay? Ken tells me you surpassed everyone at the practice as far as revenue this month.”
It was flattering to hear that Ken Lockham, one of the name partners, had been pleased with her work. “I had a great month, thanks to Nonna,” Gabby said. “The partners want me to take on more elderly patients, even some pro bono ones. They said it’ll be good publicity for the practice.” She hesitated. “But what I’d really like to do is write books.” She searched her dad’s face for a reaction to that, but it was pretty neutral. “Maybe someday I can even get to the point where I can stop practicing law. But until then, I’ve just got to find a way to make it more bearable.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry I led you astray by pushing you toward law school.”
She shrugged. “I understand why you did it—I mean, I was floundering. And at the time, I thought it was a decent idea.”
“You were so curious about everything—it seemed to me that you would find something in the field of law to interest you.”
“Can I ask you something?” Gabby asked. “Why didn’t you ever encourage me to write?”
He sighed heavily. It was a long time before he answered. “Lots of reasons, Gabby, all of them practical, and maybe all of them wrong.” He put down his pole, looking her in the eye. She saw caring there and concern, and in the emotional state she was in, she felt tears well all over again.
“You were never a rebel like Evie, who was hell-bent on creating her art. Or like Rafe, who insisted on becoming a firefighter and turned a deaf ear to me when I suggested med school. You were more…sensitive. More seeking to please. And maybe I took advantage of that.”
“You didn’t take advantage of me. I was…confused.”
“You know I promised your mother before she died that I’d do everything I could to see you kids happy. And you were always so smart. It killed me to see you floundering around with all those classes you took. I just thought you needed some direction.”
“I finally know what I want.” She wanted Cade. But apparently he didn’t want her. But oh, she was talking about her job. “And this time, I want to do things my own way, on my own terms. Succeed at something myself for once.”
“What do you mean by that? Gabby, you’ve succeeded at every single thing you’ve tried.”
“You got me into college. Into law school. You even got me my job.”
“I recommended you for those things. But you did all the work yourself. And you’ve come through with shining colors. But I want to see you happy, Gabby. That’s really all a parent wants.”
She nodded, because she was a little choked up. About the happy part. Because somehow she didn’t see that happening without Cade.
“You’re so like your mother, you know that? Same hair, same beautiful eyes, but she was just like you in other ways too. Bubbly, full of life, always ready to laugh or see the bright side of something. And she was always mastering some different skill—papier-mâché snowman heads. Sewing Halloween costumes. I miss her. ”
“I miss her too.”
“Well. The point is, your personality is a good fit with writing, I think. Creative, artistic. She’d be very proud that you were following in her footsteps. Now you can do what she wasn’t able to. You’ll be the one to get published. And don’t—don’t let anyone take that away from you.”
“Take what away?”
“That dream. Your mother would want you to pursue it.”
Damn if her dad didn’t have tears in his eyes.
“Thanks, Dad. I love you,” she said.
“I love you too,” he said, wrapping her up in a big hug.
As Gabby wiped her eyes and finally lifted herself up from the dock, the marble pendant knocked gently against her chest, and she fingered its smooth, slender shape. “Oh, do you know anything about Nonna having a great first love? That’s what Mom’s story is about—I just don’t know if it’s fact or fiction.”
“She used to talk about falling in love with a Jewish boy back in Italy but that never worked out.” He cast his line out again. “Why don’t you ask Nonna?”
“Well, the thing is her answer might be more fiction than fact.”
“You never know. Her long-term memory is usually pretty intact.”
This should be very interesting. “Okay. Thanks.”
Gabby kissed her dad on the cheek and walked back up the hill to the house, where Nonna was sitting on the little back deck enjoying the sunshine.
“Where did you get that, Gabby?” Nonna asked, pointing to the pendant around Gabby’s neck and beating Gabby to the punch. “That’s mine.”
“You gave it to me,” Gabby said, taking a seat on a chair beside her. “But you can have it back.” She slipped the necklace off and handed it to her grandmother.
“A Jewish boy gave it to me in Italy,” Nonna said, fingering it. “He worked in the marble mines. He wanted to be a jeweler.”
“It’s beautiful, Nonna. He was very talented.”
“He wanted me to have a piece of him to carry with me everywhere. He didn’t know I already had a piece of him. A much more important one than a piece of marble.”
Whoa…what did Nonna mean by that? Was the story actually true?
“I was in love with him but he was Jewish and our parents forbade us to marry. My father shipped me off to stay with our cousins in Chicago.”
So that sweet love story her mother was writing was…Nonna’s story? And it was true? But what did that mean—that Nonna had come to America pregnant? Unwed? She’d never heard any whisper of this. She did know one thing, however—her grandfather’s name was not Jacob.
“Love is a precious gift,” Nonna said, fingering the necklace. “It might only come once. If it comes twice you’re really lucky but don’t count on that.”
* * *
“Hello, Elliot,” Cade said, as his father opened his front door. He didn’t miss the sudden lift of his father’s brows as he saw his son standing there. “Can I come in?”
Cade followed his father to the library. “Sit,” Elliot said, gesturing to a chair in front of the desk while he took the chair beside him.
Cade noticed the Hemingway quote first thing hanging on the wall. The quote that bound them to the same occupation. That made them more alike than different at times.
“I’ve been thinking about us, Elliot. I came to ask you something that’s been weighing on my mind for quite some time.”
Elliot sat back and rested his elbows on the chair arms, tenting his fingers. “Ask me anything.”
“Okay, I’ll ask. Only because I realized that it’s still important to me what you think. I tried to tell myself it wasn’t.” Dammit if his voice didn’t crack a little. And he was shaking. “I’d like to know why you panned my book.”
“Your writing was—and I’m sure still is—beautiful. Your prose, your symbolism, all of it. You’re far more talented as a writer than I ever was. But you listened to what your instructors told you to do. You never should have changed the ending.”
“You’re saying that because my book didn’t have a happy ending I ruined it?” Cade snorted. “It was literary fiction, for God’s sake! Nothing in literary fiction has a happy ending, Elliot.” His father should know, because that’s what he read—and critiqued—all day long.
“Lots of books end unhappily and I have no objection to that. But yours, however, shouldn’t have. Life isn’t as hopeless as your vision in that book. I don’t know if some literary snob told you to do that, but that ending was trumped up to sell books and appear like uppity literature and I could see that a mile away. Write an honest book next time.”
God, the man always did tell the searing, hurtful truth.
“Emerson was here,” Cade said, fingering a paperweight on Elliot’s desk. ”She just left, actually. I suppose you believe what she accused me of too.” Why did he still care? He didn’t know exactly, but he sensed it had something to do with putting the past to rest. Something Gabby had suggested. And…she was right. He had to actually speak with his father if he wanted to have any kind of relationship. If he ever wanted to leave the old wounds behind.
“Of stealing your ideas?” Elliot snorted.
“We talked a lot about plotting. She’d often give me character suggestions or ideas for dialogue. I did use some of those things.” Just as he’d done with Gabby.
“And?”
“I sometimes don’t know where the line gets drawn between my own ideas and the things I come up with after talking with other people.”
Elliot snorted again. “I knew Emerson was a foolish girl from the first time you brought her to meet me. It’s no surprise to me she hasn’t published a word of fiction since graduate school.”
What the hell did he mean by that? “She sacrificed a lot for me, at the expense of her own career. My little bit of fame made her feel insignificant.”
Elliot tsked. “Life is difficult, isn’t it? For all of us. And yet we must carry on, mustn’t we?” Elliot leaned forward in his chair, as if he were going to pat Cade genially on the back. But then he drew back and folded his hands in his lap.
“She insinuated that the reason I’m writing now is because I’m doing the same thing with Gabby—using her to bounce ideas off of, talking to her about things.”
“There’s a difference between writers talking with each other, helping each other hammer out difficulties in plot, and someone who is grasping any straw she can to get a leg up in a cutthroat world. One where she hasn’t been very successful. Forgive yourself for your bad marriage, Caden, and move on from that woman to do the things you want to do—were born to do. And try and not screw things up with the good one.”
Something broke inside of Cade. A dam suddenly releasing a lot of pent-up water, maybe. In that moment, he realized that he did very much care about what his father thought of him, even if he was crotchety, ornery, and sometimes inappropriate. And somehow, he’d needed to hear this. Maybe knowing that Elliot never lied, to the point of sometimes appearing cruel, made Cade take his words as truth. And hearing them absolved him.
When Cade looked up, his father was chuckling.
“Are you—are you laughing at me?”
“God, no,” Elliot said. “I was only thinking, you seem to have a huge soft spot for such a vile woman—so maybe you could spare a little forgiveness for me.”
Cade gave his dad a look. The water under their combined bridges could drown someone. But his father seemed to be really trying, and he’d offered him advice just now because he cared. Cade got up and hugged him. “Thanks for the support. Keep your shit together—for my daughter’s sake. She needs a grandfather.”
* * *
“Rafe, for God’s sake, please play something more upbeat!” Gabby begged as she sat around the campfire with her family at the cottage that Saturday. The sun was an orange ball in the sky, hovering low over the lake, surrounded by salmon-tinged wisps of clouds—a beautiful early fall evening. She shifted Evie’s son, Michael, on her lap. The boy had threaded two marshmallows on a stick but had eaten three times that many straight from the bag.
Everyone was making s’mores and listening to Rafe play the guitar. Everyone, that is, except for her dad and Michael’s sister, Julia, who were fishing for walleye off the nearby dock. So far Rafe had played “Careless Whisper” by George Michael, “Nothing Compares 2 U” by Sinéad O’Connor, and several of Adele’s songs about breakups.
“Please, make him stop,” Sara said. “These songs are making me want to cry.”
“That’s not saying much,” Colton said, firing up a marshmallow for Nonna. “You seem to cry about everything lately.” Sara angled a sharp glance in his direction, which made him say, “I mean, sweetheart, I’m really glad you’re so emotional lately. It’s…terrific. You’re terrific, and I love you.”
Sara kissed him and chuckled.
“Good save, Colt,” Gabby said. She knew they were waiting a bit to make their big announcement, but she was excited to be one of the first ones in on the secret. She was just sad she didn’t have better news herself…about herself and Cade.
Rafe began to strum Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together,” shooting Sara a how-about-this? look.
“That’s more upbeat,” Nonna said, sitting in an Adirondack chair crocheting an afghan which she’d spread on her lap.
Sara shook her head. “No, Rafe. Just no.”
Rafe stopped playing, thank God, and glanced out over the lake, which was calm and glassy. But the beauty of their surroundings just seemed to underscore how alone Gabby felt without Cade to share it. And looking at her brother, she could tell that he was hurting inside too.
“Burn my marshmallow for me, Aunt Gabby,” Michael said. “Really burnt, okay? Make it catch on fire.”
Evie, who was leaning against Joe with her legs stretched out toward the fire, eyes half closed, smiled at her son. “He likes ’em charred, just like his aunt Gabby,” she said.
“I’m not apologizing for my taste in marshmallows,” Gabby said, mostly to try and keep a positive front. But truthfully, she couldn’t care less how burned or not her marshmallows were. She could barely get down a few bites of burger tonight at dinner, let alone dessert. Cade hadn’t called her. All she could think of was that his gorgeous ex was probably still in town, and she couldn’t get pictures out of her head of Cade and she and Ava together. A family.
That brought tears to her eyes, which she swiped at while cooking the marshmallow for her nephew.
Michael held up the bubbly, burned mess Gabby had removed from the fire. It was sliding slowly down his stick. Gabby grabbed a napkin and saved it before it ended up in the grass.
Gabby was waiting for Rafe to strum another tune just to piss her off, but he sat there staring at his guitar strings, lost in thought. If she didn’t know before, she knew now that he wasn’t in good shape. Strange, because as far as she knew, he and Kaitlyn had never gotten together. What on earth was bugging him?
She put a hand on his shoulder. “Want to go for a walk?” she asked.
“Great idea,” Rachel said. “Michael, come sit with me. I’ll be happy to burn your next marshmallow.”
“Ha ha. If Grandma Rachel doesn’t get it right, I’ll be back soon, Bud,” Gabby said, rubbing the soft top of Michael’s buzz cut.
Rafe followed after Gabby, surprising her a little. First of all, he was not one to take a stroll with anyone. Second, he’d much rather pretend he had no problems than talk about them.
“Hey,” he said, picking up a couple of rocks and skipping them across the water as they walked along the shore, “I’m sorry about Cade.”
“I’ll be fine.” She waved her hand dismissively, but despite her best efforts, her eyes got a little watery. She’d done an excellent job today of not losing it in front of her family, and she certainly didn’t want to fall apart now in front of Rafe, who was clearly having his own troubles. She turned toward the lake to swipe at her eyes, and she felt her brother’s hand on her shoulder.
“It’s okay, Gabby.”
That simple gesture undid her. She couldn’t hold back her tears—or her words. “I don’t think he can let someone else in. Why wouldn’t being with me be worth facing his fears? I mean, isn’t that how love is? It’s supposed to be stronger than your fears?”
Rafe snorted. She turned to see him dragging his hands through his hair.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Fine.” Rafe often spoke in monosyllables, but even with one word Gabby could tell he was not fine.
How many times had he said that, and she’d just let him be? Everyone let Rafe be, because Rafe had been through something sad and traumatic when he was a young man, and everyone thought he would get over it in his own time.
But maybe what he really needed was for somebody to say something.
“Rafe, you’re not fine,” she said.
He looked up from the lake. His brow was creased, and he opened his mouth like he was going to speak, but he didn’t.
“I could listen, you know. To anything you’d want to say.”
“I sort of understand Cade. Maybe you get to the point where you just feel that the only way you could go on is if you say you’re not going to really ever put yourself out there again. Because things were so terrible the first time around you just don’t think you could get through something like that again.”
He went quiet, squatting on the small bank, staring as the little ripples from the lake lapped up onto the sandy shore. Gabby held her breath, hoping he’d continue.
“Kaitlyn made me want to try again,” he continued. “But I was too afraid. So I was okay with staying away from her, until I heard she was going back with Steve and for some reason, I…” His words trailed off.
“Oh, Rafe. Have you tried talking to her?”
Gabby could tell from the look on his face that he hadn’t. “Well, if you can’t talk with her, maybe you should talk to someone else.”
“Who?”
“I mean like a therapist.”
His eyes narrowed.
“It’s been eight years since Claire died. Maybe you just need a little bit of help to really deal with that. I’m sure we could find someone who—”
He rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand. “What the hell,” he said.
“It’s just a suggestion. You don’t have to get angry with me—”
“I’m not angry, and I’m not talking about the therapist thing. I’m talking about that.” She followed his line of sight out into the water where, in the distance, a rowboat was slowly making its way across the lake. Whoever was rowing was wearing a big, bright orange lifejacket.
“That’s the biggest-assed life jacket I’ve ever seen,” Rafe said.
“And the brightest,” Colton said from up the hill from them on the bank. He’d jogged across the lawn to see the oncoming boat, and the rest of the family was following right behind him.
“It’s Cade,” Gabby whispered, something she knew without even seeing. Because she felt it—felt him.
“Why didn’t he take the ferry?” Evie asked.
Their dad checked his watch. “The last one left for the day.”
“He’ll be here tomorrow sometime,” Joe said, laughing.
“Maybe you should take the pontoon out and get him, Walter,” Rachel said.
“No, I don’t think so,” he said. “I think he should work hard for my daughter’s affection.”
“Dad!” Gabby said.
“I’m just kidding,” he said. “He’s doing great. He’ll reach the dock in a few minutes.”
Gabby ran to the end of the dock and threw her hands into the air, ecstatic when Cade waved back. At last he rowed up to the dock and climbed out while Rafe and Dr. Langdon secured the boat.
“You made good time,” Colton said, taking his life jacket.
“Thanks,” Cade said.
Nonna immediately came up and hugged him. “You’re sweaty,” she said. “But you have nice big muscles.”
Cade greeted Gabby’s other family members, who seemed to be trying hard not to stare.
When Cade finally faced Gabby, her heart dropped into her stomach, and everyone standing around on the shore seemed to fade away. Not because Cade looked irresistible but because he looked…terrible. Unshaven. Dark circles. Mussed hair. His disheveled appearance somehow made her feel very hopeful—that maybe he was suffering being apart too. “Gabby,” he said, his voice breaking a bit. “Will you talk with me?”
She had to force herself not to do a happy dance. “You rowed all the way from the ferry dock?” Gabby asked.
Cade shrugged. “Yeah,” he said. “I had to see you.” His words and the intensity in his eyes made Gabby’s heart kick into high gear, causing it to beat out a staccato rhythm that she swore the whole crowd could hear. No one had done such a crazy thing for her before.
“Well then,” Nonna said. “It must be an important talk.”
While Rachel immediately started directing everyone back toward the house to roast more marshmallows and basically to mind their own business, Gabby steered Cade to a spot near the shore where a pine tree had fallen. She sat down on the trunk and he took a seat beside her.
The heat from his big body surrounded her, giving her an immediate sense of comfort, yet stirring her at the same time. She was so, so glad he was here.
“I have some news,” he said.
“News?” she asked. He’d rowed all this way to tell her…news?
“One of the coeds Tony slept with posted photos of him on Facebook. He’s out.”
“Oh, thank God,” Gabby said, heaving a relieved sigh, even while a sense of disappointment unsettled her. Had he just come here to let her know there would be no trouble from the photo?
“And I lost the Fitzgerald scholar position.”
“Oh, Cade, no.”
“I told Jake about our kiss and the photo.”
“And they took the scholar position away from you?” This was horrible.
He shook his head. “When I told him you were my age and you dropped the class he told me he didn’t give a crap about my personal life. Then I told him I didn’t want to do the research, that I wanted to write books instead. And he told me that was fine as long as I kept teaching Amira’s writing classes next semester too.”
“You’re going to keep teaching writing?”
“Yeah. I like…discovering new talent.” He flashed a beautiful, white smile that melted her insides. “And the students are pretty creative and amazing. I like teaching.”
“That’s great,” Gabby said. “I’m glad…everything worked out.” Maybe he did just row all the way over here to tell her all that. She was happy for him…but disappointed too.
Suddenly he took her hands, looked into her eyes, and said, “Emerson is gone, and she did not stay at my house.”
Oh, praise baby Jesus. Her breath hitched, and she couldn’t tear herself away from his gaze.
“She was never going to stay at my house.”
“Good,” Gabby managed.
He removed a hand to rub his neck. “Gabby,” he said.
“Yes, Cade,” she said. His presence was undoing her. Heat was coursing through her veins, desire tugging on her, pulling her under its spell, making her want to kiss and touch him and wrap herself around him even though she knew they needed to talk, to speak actual words. Plus, he’d rowed here all that way and she could not stop the swell of hope that was expanding uncontrollably in her heart.
“Emerson is…difficult. She’s going to do her thing as she wishes, and I’m going to be dealing with the fallout from that, trying to protect Ava as best I can.”
“I understand.”
“She asked me if I used you as my muse like I used her.”
“Oh God, Cade, you can’t be serious.”
“All this time I’ve always wondered in the back of my mind if I appropriated some of her stuff unconsciously. All this time, that fear was paralyzing my writing. Until you came along and helped me to experience joy again. Somehow with you I was able to let go of all that—stuff—and just see my way to the writing. I know now where my story came from, and it was from inside of me.” He tapped over his heart.
“And I realized something else.” He took hold of her hands again. “I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t afraid of having a relationship again. But there’s no one in the world I want more than you.”
“Cade, I—” His words echoed. There’s no one I want more.
He placed a finger gently over her lips. “From the moment we met in the parking lot, everything about you—your spirit, your light—has shone down deep inside of me and made me feel alive again. I screwed up my first marriage pretty badly and I swear to you, I promise you, I will do anything to keep you in my life.”
She was sobbing now.
“I was thinking about the agent thing,” he said. “I sent your pages to Joanna because I was excited. I think that’s the fixer side of me, wanting to make things right. But I should’ve asked you first. I’m sorry for that too.”
Gabby cupped a hand on his cheek, scraping against the sandpaper roughness and the tiny masculine prickles from his unshaven beard. “Cade, I was thinking that sometimes it’s not bad to accept help. Maybe it’s not all bad to catch a break either. I appreciate what you did for me.”
“I understand you want to succeed on your own. But, Gabby, your writing is really good. I’m excited to see where you’re going to go with it.”
“Thank you for believing in me. You gave me the confidence to follow my dream.”
“Nah,” he said, sending her a huge grin. “I just taught a class.”
“And she dropped it,” Rafe said from afar.
“Shut up, Rafe,” Gabby said, looking up at her family pretty far above them on the slope, hovering together, struggling to listen. “You keep going, Cade.”
“I love you, Gabby. Ava loves you. I want you to be my wife.” Cade dug through his shorts pockets. “I almost forgot.” He pulled out a small box and knelt down on one knee and took Gabby’s hand. “Will you marry me, Gabriella?”
“Yes! Of course! Yes!” she said, as he slid the ring on her finger. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him hard.
“I love a woman who knows her mind,” Cade said, gathering her into his arms, where she fit perfectly.
She smiled against his strong chest. “This time I know exactly what I want,” she whispered.
They kissed again among the clapping, hooting, and hollering coming from atop the hill. After a few minutes, all her family rushed down to join them for plenty of hugs and congratulations.
Nonna gave Gabby a big kiss on the cheek. “That’s from your mother,” she said. “She always did love a happy ending.”