SUNNY WAS RELIEVED when it all settled down. Finally, she and her friends finished talking to the police and their parents. All of the teenagers had gotten lectured at, but everyone had also done a lot of hugging. When Sunny had asked if everyone could stay around and have a bonfire, the parents had conferred and then agreed. The girls were allowed to sleep over, too.
Now, Sunny stared at the flickering flames of the bonfire and then looked around at her friends. She, Kaitlyn, Venus, the twins and Caden all lounged around the firepit at her house, in lawn chairs and on blankets. The smell of wood smoke mingled with the deep chocolate taste of the s’mores they just finished making and eating, and Sunny felt sleepy and content. It was 1:00 a.m., and it felt like they’d all been together for days.
Earlier tonight, she’d wondered if she would even make it home alive. She’d never been so terrified in her life as she’d been with a gun poking her in the back, watching the dogs tear each other apart.
“I’m still totally freaked out.” Avery took a big drink of soda and looked around. “Anyone else?”
“My heart hasn’t slowed down yet,” Sunny admitted.
Kaitlyn nodded. “Mine, either, and all I was doing was waiting for you guys to get back.”
“I feel good,” Venus said. “You saved some dogs at any rate.”
“Yeah, we are kind of heroes,” Caden said.
“Except that our parents hate us,” Avery reminded him.
“As do the cops, don’t forget,” Sunny said.
Caden poked the ground with a stick. “They should be grateful,” he said. “We sped up their investigation by about six months.” Apparently, the police had been monitoring the online activities of the group behind the fight and were gathering information to try to shut them down permanently and also find out whether they were connected with a bigger, more professional dogfighting organization. They’d lectured the teenagers about taking on things that weren’t their business, interfering with an official investigation and putting themselves at risk.
That was fine, the police had a point...but meanwhile, they’d been willing to let some dogs be sacrificed, and even if it was for the greater good of the investigation, Sunny thought that was wrong.
She leaned back in her lawn chair and looked up at the stars, then around the circle of her friends. No one was saying they weren’t mad at her anymore, but it was clear that they weren’t. That was a huge relief. It was over, and she still had friends.
William had taken that poor little brown dog to an emergency vet. Sunny had texted him, and he’d told her what he was doing and said he didn’t need any help.
She didn’t know what was going on between him and her mom, because they seemed to be at odds, again.
But Sunny was through trying to mastermind everything, trying to be in control. It had worked tonight, sort of, but it sort of hadn’t, and she had decided she needed to take a rest from being in charge.
She started scrolling through her photos. Mostly, they were of cars and license plates, and they’d turned out dark and blurry. Still, the police wanted them to send all the pictures and videos in.
Caden was sitting beside her, and when he saw what she was doing, he leaned closer. He looked over her shoulder, and as she scrolled to the big car at the scene, the one that looked almost like a limousine, he put a hand on her arm and gripped, hard.
She looked back up at him. “Something wrong?”
“Let me see that one.” He leaned closer. “Yeah,” he said, his voice growing grim. “That’s my dad’s car.”
“Was he there?” Kaitlyn had been listening and now she came over to kneel on the other side of Sunny, also looking at the phone.
“Your dad was there betting on the dogfight?” Sunny kind of winced. She hated the thought that anyone she knew was there, but for it to be Caden’s father... How awful.
“I don’t think he was betting on it,” Caden said slowly. “I think he’s behind it.”
Just as he said it, there was one of those natural silences that punctuates every group conversation. The fire crackled. A small animal rustled in the nearby bushes.
“Behind it? Your dad’s behind the dogfighting ring?” Kaitlyn’s voice was loud with surprise. The others had been looking at each other, but now everyone laser focused on Caden.
“But your dad is rich,” Sunny said.
“Maybe that’s how,” Caden said slowly. “He hasn’t gone to a regular job in the past couple of years, but the money seems to keep rolling in.” He shook his head. “I knew he was up to something. Always sneaking around, turning off his computer screen when me or Mom came in, going into the other room to take calls.” He frowned. “I actually thought he was having an affair, because that’s what Mom thought.”
“She told you that?”
“No, but I heard them fighting.”
How awful it must have been at his house. No wonder he’d moved out and gone to the Blue House to stay for a while.
Kaitlyn sat back and wrapped her arms around her knees. “I heard that new cop, Evan Stone, say that there must be a bigger group behind this, that it’s a pretty small potatoes organization here on the Eastern Shore. Could your dad be involved with something bigger?”
Venus stared from Caden to Kaitlyn and back again. “You mean like the mob?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” He looked miserable, hunched over, like he was trying to make himself smaller.
Sunny thought about how Caden’s parents had acted when she’d gone over there. His dad had seemed awful, and his mom wasn’t much help. Neither of them had seemed to care about Caden’s well-being at all.
She itched to try to fix the situation. But, she reminded herself, she was through taking control, taking over, being bossy. She held out her phone. “It’s your dad. It’s your call. Delete it if you want to.”
Everybody was quiet then. The only sound was the frogs croaking, quietly at first, then getting louder, then sinking back down.
Caden stared out across the bay, his forehead wrinkled. “I won’t delete it,” he said finally, not looking at any of them. “But don’t send it to the cops quite yet. I need to text my mom and tell her to get out of there.”
“Does she have somewhere to go?” Kaitlyn asked.
“I have an aunt who lives up the shore. Maybe she can go there.”
They all waited while Caden texted his mom. “Where are you going to stay?” Sunny asked. “Because I doubt you want to go home just now. And you can’t go back to the Blue House. That’s the first place people will look for you.”
“You can stay at our house,” Aiden said, and Avery nodded.
“Thanks.” Caden’s phone buzzed and he looked at it. “My mom says she can be out of there in half an hour,” he said. “She must have already known. She’s not surprised.”
Sunny bit her lip, looking at him. His mom hadn’t even called to see if he was okay. She thought of her own mom, coming to check on her, getting involved, helping all the kids. Sunny was lucky, and she was grateful.
“Should I send it in?” she asked. “Or wait till tomorrow?”
“Send it in,” he said grimly.
Sunny did it, then squeezed Caden’s hand, and then they were all standing and hugging each other. They had been through a lot together, but they were together and they’d come out ahead. That was something to be thankful for.
THE MORNING AFTER the dogfighting mess, Bisky sat in the diner across from her cousin Gemma, pushing around a pile of scrambled eggs. “He said it loud and clear,” she explained. “Said he didn’t want me and that he wasn’t interested. Three times!”
Gemma took another bite of pancakes and then put down her fork. “It just doesn’t make sense. When I saw you together, at the boat-docking thing, it seemed like he really, really liked you. Plus, he doesn’t seem like the kind to be mean, from what I remember about him as a kid.”
Bisky moved her plate to the side and pulled her coffee cup closer, wrapping her hands around it, feeling like she needed the comfort. Feeling cold.
“There was really no mistaking it,” she said. “First off, he left me and Sunny there to handle those thugs by ourselves.”
“Yeah,” Gemma said, frowning, “that wasn’t cool.”
“His ex needed him.” Bisky pushed out the words past the tight feeling in her throat and face. “I mean, I get it. I’m stronger than his ex, and I’m good with that. But if it means he’s always going to be running back to her when she calls...” She propped her cheek on her fist. “Face it, I’m never going to have the kind of great relationship you have. I’m just not made for it. Men don’t feel that way about me.”
“Come here.” Gemma stood and started tugging Bisky’s arm.
“What? Where are we going? We have to pay the check.”
“Just to the ladies’ room.” Gemma waved to their waitress. “We’ll be right back,” she said, and the woman nodded.
Gemma was small, but she was determined, and she wasn’t going to stop pulling on Bisky from the looks of it. So Bisky unfolded herself from the booth and let Gemma usher her into the ladies’ room.
Gemma guided Bisky toward the sinks and stood beside her. “Look,” she said, pointing at the mirror. “What do you see?”
Bisky looked at herself, the circles under her eyes, the plain ponytailed hair, still wet from the shower. “I see a tired woman who’s not as young as she used to be,” she said, “and her annoying cousin.” To soften her words, she put an arm around Gemma. “You’re sweet to try to make me feel better.”
“I’ll tell you what I see,” Gemma said, undeterred. “I see a strong woman who’s taken care of her family and earned a living ever since she hit eighteen. A woman who’s made it in a man’s world and stayed good and kind. A woman who’s been a great role model to her daughter, and...” She leaned her head on Bisky’s arm. “And who was a huge help to me when I needed it.”
“Thanks, hon.” Bisky meant it. Gemma’s words did buoy her up a little.
“And men do like you. Maybe William’s just a warm-up, and your prince is just around the corner. You never know.”
That made Bisky smile even while her heart twisted. She didn’t want a prince; she wanted William. “You always were a little unrealistic. Come on, we’d better pay and then I need to get home and make sure Sunny’s okay. That was quite a night the kids had.”
“You think about what I said.”
“I will, promise. I’m glad you’re here, Gemma.”
“Me, too.”
And it was true, Bisky reflected as she left the diner, waving to people she knew, giving Gemma one last hug. She was thankful for her town, her daughter, her cousin and her friends. She had a good life here, and she’d continue to have that, she knew.
It was just that, right now, there was a hole in her heart. A William-shaped hole.
She had too much self-respect to chase after him or put up with what he’d done. But oh, she was going to miss him.
WILLIAM HAD NEVER visited a jail before, but it seemed a fitting end to the last twenty-four hours. Prior to that, he’d never been to a dogfight, nor an emergency vet, so why not finish things out by visiting his newly incarcerated father?
His emotions were raw. Part of it was about Bisky and trying to understand what had happened between them. Trying to understand how he felt, and trying to figure out how she felt, too. He knew that he cared about her, and up until now, he thought that meant he needed to stay away from her for her own sake, that he was a bad bet. Now, he wasn’t sure if that was the case or not. But he was pretty sure he had ruined his chances with her by some of the things he’d said last night.
He’d thought hurting her was the right thing to do, to push her away. But his gut told him he’d been wrong, wrong, wrong.
Great move, Romeo.
The other thing that had his stomach in knots was his father. He’d honestly never expected to see the man again, had figured that he had probably passed away. To encounter him on the Eastern Shore, so near where their family had lived long ago, had been a complete shock.
And then he’d realized he should have expected it. His father had always scrambled to earn a living, finding all kinds of ways to make a buck, never worrying too much about the legality of it. And now that William thought about it, he wondered if it had been his father living in the old home place.
Even to find the man participating in a deplorable blood sport shouldn’t have shocked William, because his father had attended local prizefights whenever he could and had never really known how to take care of animals, had always thought of them as creatures to be used—and abused—not cared for.
Some of the puzzle pieces were falling into place, but not all of them. Strangest of all was the way his father had acted when William had talked to him. He hadn’t seemed to hate William. It was a marked difference from the angry attitude his father had held toward William his whole life. Ever since William had beaten him up, all those years ago, and called the police on him, he’d expected his father to hold a huge grudge.
William was sitting on one side of a piece of Plexiglas, and there was a phone, just like on TV. Beside him, an older woman cried as she talked to a younger man, maybe her son.
There were all kinds of ways a parent could get their heart broken.
And then his father was in the chair opposite him, on the other side of the Plexiglas, and all his musings flew away as he stared at that face, familiar because he’d grown up with it, and familiar because it was almost the same face he saw in the mirror himself, every morning. He and his dad had always looked a lot alike, and even as weathered and haggard as his father looked, the resemblance was obvious.
His father picked up the phone, and belatedly, William did the same. His father’s first words surprised him. “I appreciate you coming in,” he said.
Since when did his father appreciate anything?
“Did you get that pup to the vet?” his father asked.
It took William a minute to realize that his father was asking about the health of the dog he had heartlessly put into the ring.
“Yes. Looks like she’ll be okay. Eventually.”
“Too bad she got hurt like that.” His father did sound a little sorry, but also matter-of-fact. Hurt dogs must be fairly normal in the dogfighter’s world.
“Why did you do it?” he asked his father.
His father actually looked confused for a minute. “What, the dogfighting?”
“Yeah,” William said.
His father shrugged. “Got in over my head and couldn’t get out.” He rubbed a finger across what looked like a spot of dirt on the table in front of him. “I couldn’t get out, but I never did like it. Hey. Did you get the brown-and-white pit and the black pup I brought you?”
William frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”
“I brought you a couple of dogs, first the brown-and-white one, then a black one. Hope you took care of them.”
All of a sudden the truth dawned on him. His father was talking about Xena and Muffin. “How do you know about those dogs?”
“I saw you were in town,” his father said. “Knew you had a soft heart. I remember how you tried to make friends with Diablo. So rather than killing ’em, like I was supposed to, I dropped them off near your place.” He looked vaguely ashamed. “I just hated for them to die when they didn’t need to. Guess I’m getting soft like you, in my old age.”
William stared at his father, trying to understand.
His father was getting soft...meaning he would watch dogs get mauled, but he didn’t want to kill them. It wasn’t much of an improvement, but still, William would never have believed it based on the man he’d known.
It must be true, though. His father had brought William injured dogs because he knew William would take care of them. He’d changed from the man who’d kicked and mistreated Diablo.
It was going to take him a while to process that. “If you really have a soft heart toward animals, you need to cooperate until the police find out who’s behind this fighting conference.” William had done a quick bit of internet research on dogfighting and had picked up some of the terminology.
“Well now, I just might,” his father said. “Looks like I’ll be in here awhile, either way, but maybe I can put an end to some of that sick stuff.”
“I hope you do.”
There was a little silence then, awkward. There was both too much and too little to say. “What will you do now, son?” his father asked finally.
Hearing his father say that one word—son—made William’s throat tighten. “Back to my job in Baltimore, I guess.” His time in Pleasant Shores was nearing an end. His therapist had commented last week about how well he was doing. Impulsively, he said, “I lost my daughter. She got in the path of a thief with a gun. She was fifteen.”
His father’s eyes widened. “I’m real sorry to hear that.” After a minute of silence, he added, “Your mother lost a child. Miscarriage. Baby girl.”
Anger reared up inside of William. “I know, and that was your fault.” What was he thinking, starting to see the good side of his father, when his father was essentially a murderer?
“You mean from that fight you stopped? No.” His father shook his head. “I know that’s what you and that cop thought, but she’d already lost that baby. I found her seeking comfort in a bottle and another man, that last night. He ran off, and she and I fought.”
William thought back to the scene, the last time he’d seen his mother alive. Could that be true, or was his father lying, making excuses?
“Still doesn’t make it forgivable,” his father said. “I treated her bad, right up until I got kicked out of town.”
William stared at his father while his view of the man as a horrible monster made a shift.
Yes, his father had been abusive, mean and hurtful. He’d done indefensible things. But maybe he hadn’t caused the death of a child after all.
Something nudged at William then. Was his view of himself as a guilty monster just as wrong?
“What about Bisky Castleman?” his dad asked.
That startled William. “She’s safe,” he said. “She left with her daughter. Nobody hurt her.”
“No,” his father said, “that’s not what I meant. I meant, what about her and you?”
William tilted his head to one side. “What do you mean?”
“Always thought you’d end up marrying that girl, close as you two were,” he said.
“I very much doubt that,” William said, although the idea of marrying Bisky filled him with a longing that almost made him breathless.
The pair next to them stood. The mother cried openly, and the prisoner-son wiped tears from beneath his eyes. He walked away slowly, turning once to wave. The woman watched him go and then turned and trudged toward the exit.
“How come you doubt you’ll marry Bisky?” William’s father asked.
“Because I screwed up pretty bad with her.”
“And? We all screw up. I couldn’t fix my screwup, but you could fix yours.”
“I’m no good for her,” he said. “I pushed her away for her own sake.”
His father shook his head. “That makes no sense,” he said. “You’re a good man. Not perfect, but good. You sure you’re not just punishing yourself for not being perfect?”
“I wouldn’t—”
“Trust me, you would,” his father interrupted. “From the time you were small, you took the weight of the world on your shoulders. Took responsibility for way too much, and blamed yourself when things went wrong. Even when those things were my fault, not yours.” He shook his head. “Don’t mess up your life and your chance at happiness, son. Give yourself some grace. And give Bisky some grace, too, if you want to. She’s a good woman just like you’re a good man.”
“Time’s up,” called the guard from the side of the room.
William’s father put his hand to the glass. William didn’t follow suit, he couldn’t. After a minute his father nodded, and then the attendant was escorting him out.
William watched him go, saw the slump of his shoulders, and knew his father was an old man.
It was enough to make anyone think. What did he want his own life to look like going forward? Would he get to the age of his father and be as alone as he was?
How badly had he screwed up with Bisky, and could he fix it at all?
ON SATURDAY, THE GUSTY GULL opened its outdoor seating because it was such an unusually warm day. Seventy-one degrees in the early afternoon, and Bisky, Amber, Erica and Ria met for an afternoon cocktail and gabfest.
They were all a little shaken, or at least Bisky was, by the events of the previous week. She was glad to get together with her friends, because she was feeling a little melancholy and felt the need to get out of her house.
After they’d all hugged and ordered summery drinks, Bisky sat back and looked at the clear blue sky over the Chesapeake Bay. “Breeze feels good,” she said.
Erica gestured out at the bike path across Beach Street. “It’s great to see Sunny so happy again, with her friends,” she said.
Bisky looked over and saw her daughter with Kaitlyn, Venus and Avery. They were walking the path, talking a mile a minute, and giggling, all wearing too-short shorts and too-skimpy tops for the weather, but that was kids.
Bisky was so proud of Sunny for what she’d accomplished with the dogfighting, even while she was mad at her for taking such risks. Mostly, she just felt grateful that Sunny was safe.
Ria was watching them too. “The girls are growing up so quickly. I’m going to miss being so actively involved in their lives. I love being a mother. Although...”
Something in Ria’s voice made Amber and Erica tune in. “Although what?” Amber asked.
Ria hesitated and blushed. “Drew and I aren’t using protection, if you know what I mean.”
“Whoa now!” Amber clapped her hands, then pumped her fist. “Baby, baby, baby!”
Erica was laughing. “As fertile as the two of you are? We’re going to be having a baby shower right here at the Gusty Gull in nine months, if not sooner.”
Ria held up a hand, smiling. “Hey, I’m not twenty-five anymore. I bet that it won’t even happen, but we both love kids so much.”
Bisky felt an unusual surge of jealousy. She had always envied Ria, a little, for her loving husband. But she suddenly envied her this opportunity to start anew on motherhood. Not that Bisky would want to do that herself, but it would just be nice to have something big, the possibility of a baby, to look forward to.
Their drinks came then, and the conversation got more general, but Bisky kept coming back to the thought.
Sunny was getting more and more independent. She’d asked if she could spend Easter with Kaitlyn and Venus, who had a plan to help serve Easter dinner and do an egg hunt for some of the disadvantaged families in their community.
Of course, Bisky had said yes. She was proud that Sunny wanted to do something like that. She’d opened her mouth to offer to help, but had stopped herself in time. Sunny and her friends were plenty old enough to do the activity on their own. They didn’t need mothers interfering.
It meant Bisky would spend Easter by herself, and that was fine. Maybe she’d cook up an Easter dinner anyway, or take a book outside into the hammock and spend the afternoon reading.
“Hey, lady.” Amber nudged her. “How are things going with William?”
“Yeah,” Ria said. “I got the impression you and he were pretty close.” She waggled her eyebrows up and down.
The good mood Bisky had been grasping at slipped away. “Not happening,” she said.
“Why not?” Erica tilted her head to one side, looking concerned.
“Oh, he doesn’t want a woman like me,” she said.
Amber raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What kind of a woman is that?”
Bisky didn’t intend to tell these women all her business, but somehow, the words spilled out of her. “Someone big and tough and take-charge,” she said.
“What would make you think he doesn’t want those qualities in a woman?” Ria frowned. “I think most men these days appreciate having an equal partner. Even macho types, like Drew.”
“Not William,” Bisky said. “The other night, at the dogfight, he made it very clear he wasn’t interested.”
Amber’s eyebrows lifted. “Are you sure?”
Bisky recounted the multiple comments he’d made. “Plus,” she went on, “did you see his ex-wife?”
“No, and what does that matter?” Erica asked. “She’s an ex for a reason.”
Bisky shook her head. “The minute she called him for help, he took off. Even though Sunny and I actually needed him.”
“Did he know that, though?” Amber frowned. “You have a way of acting like you’re totally independent and fine, all the time. Which is great,” she added, raising a hand, “but it can maybe make a man feel superfluous.”
Bisky shrugged. “He might not have known I needed him, but...”
“But what?” Erica leaned forward, elbows on the table, studying her.
Bisky sucked in a breath and then the words just came. “I would scold Sunny if she said anything like this, but the woman was tiny. Tiny and delicate and blonde... The exact opposite of me. That’s apparently what William likes.”
“Stop.” Ria jumped in. “That body image stuff can be deadly. Comparing yourself to other women. Believe me, I know.”
“True, of course,” Bisky said, and took a long draw on her drink. “I know that.”
But she didn’t believe it in her heart. Didn’t believe William could want a woman like her, and she had the evidence to prove it.
“Self-image,” Amber proclaimed, and waved a hand for the waiter. “It trips us all up. Makes us limit what we can have in the future.”
“Well, sure, but if it’s accurate...”
“It’s not! That’s the problem. We get stuck in particular views of ourselves and it’s hard to change. Like, I thought I was nothing but a party girl. You can imagine that a guy like Paul seemed out of reach.”
“But he wasn’t, because you’re so much more than a party girl,” Erica said, patting her sister’s arm.
They ordered appetizers and another round of drinks, and the conversation went on to other things, but Bisky thought about it. Of course, Amber was more than a party girl even if she’d thought she was not. And of course, Ria had a lovely body and spirit, and her husband’s love for her was apparent every time Bisky saw them together.
Those women, smart and worthy of respect, had had mistaken views of themselves. Their men—and their friends—had helped them realize that they were more than their shrunken and negative self-images.
Bisky would have considered that could be true of her as well, but she had direct evidence from William. His words at the dogfight rang in her ears, blocking out any chance of a future together.
SUNNY WAVED AT her mother, sitting with her friends on the outdoor deck of the Gusty Gull.
“Our moms are having a little too much fun.” Kaitlyn waved up at her mom, too, who was doubled over laughing at something Amber or Erica had said.
Sunny noticed her mom wasn’t laughing. She didn’t even seem to be paying attention; instead, she was looking out over the bay, her expression thoughtful.
Mom had seemed a little sad lately, and Sunny wondered what it was about. Was it William, or something Sunny had done? She definitely had broken some rules lately, made some mistakes. She probably shouldn’t have asked to spend Easter away from Mom. When you were a family of two, you had to look out for each other.
But maybe it wasn’t about her at all. Who knew, with a mother? She rubbed Muffin’s sides, and her dog looked up at her with adoration.
“Make her do her tricks,” Kaitlyn said, and Sunny obliged, putting Muffin through her paces: give paw, roll over, sit pretty.
“You love bossing that dog around,” Venus said. “I think you figured out the right line of work.”
Sunny laughed. She was just glad Venus wasn’t mad at her anymore, that they were all friends again.
“Hey,” Kaitlyn said, pointing across the street, “isn’t that the new trainer lady?”
Sunny looked in the direction Kaitlyn had indicated. Sure enough, the trainer that had been so hard on her and William and the dogs was walking along the other side of Beach Street, her border collie in lockstep beside her. Ugh. Mary approached the woman and started talking to her. Double ugh.
Sunny had wanted to be the person Mary chose to train the therapy dogs, had wanted it desperately, but it wasn’t going to happen.
She waited for depression to hit her as she watched the two women talk, but it didn’t come. She realized with surprise that she was okay with that. She’d still be able to work with dogs, and there were different ways that could happen, and it was okay.
Mary and the trainer continued talking, and from the looks of things, it wasn’t going well. They were shaking their heads and frowning. Sunny felt a little glad in a mean way, but then pushed aside her thoughts.
She talked with her friends for a while—about boys, of course—and then Mary crossed the street and approached them. “May I speak with you?” she asked Sunny.
“Sure.”
Mary pulled her off to the side. “Are you still interested in working with the therapy dog program?” she asked.
Sunny’s heart jumped. “Absolutely! But I thought you hired that woman.” She gestured in the direction the trainer had gone.
“It didn’t work out.” Mary frowned, then knelt to rub Muffin’s sides. “We’ve decided to part ways. So, I could start from the ground up looking for another candidate, or...” She bent down and gave Muffin’s ears a rub. “I admire what you’ve done with Muffin. You’ve turned her around. William’s dog too.”
“Thanks!” Sunny didn’t think she could smile any bigger. “But you said before that we need an adult to do the program?”
“That’s still the case, so we’ll need to have an adult supervisor,” she said. “I was thinking about William, actually.”
Sunny thought about that. She’d started out with mixed feelings about William. But he’d worked really hard to overcome his fears about dogs, and he’d been amazing in helping them break apart the dogfighting ring. He was kind of funny, in an old guy way.
The other thing was that she was pretty sure her mom liked William, but for whatever reason, the two of them couldn’t seem to get it together. Maybe she could help. “I’d be glad to work with William,” she said. “I’m sure I can talk him into it. At least, if he’s staying in town.”
Mary smiled a little. “If anyone can, you can,” she said. “His time at Victory Cottage is almost up, but I’m hoping he’ll decide to stay in Pleasant Shores permanently.”
Did Sunny want that? Even if it meant he might be around her mom permanently?
She looked over at Kaitlyn and Venus, talking and laughing. She was settled in with them, settled in for these next couple of years until they all went their ways to different colleges, the military or work. She hoped that even after graduation, she could stay friends with both of them, for the next few years and beyond.
She wanted Mom to be happy, too. And if being happy meant her mom had a boyfriend, even a husband, Sunny just might be okay with that. “I wouldn’t mind him sticking around,” she said.
“Good. Come to the shop Monday and we’ll pin down some details.” Mary shook her hand, all professional, and then crossed the street and headed up to the deck of the Gusty Gull where Mom and her friends still sat.
Of course, Kait and Venus wanted to know what the conversation with Mary had been about, and she ended up telling them about the therapy dog gig and also about how William might be involved. When she said she was going to talk him into doing it, Venus laughed. “Still bossy for a cause,” she said.
“I guess I am,” Sunny admitted. “So shoot me. I get things done.”
They continued to tease her. That was what friends did.
And friends also helped you when you couldn’t help yourself. That was why she was going to help William figure out a way to get back into Mom’s good graces.
WILLIAM WAS DOING something he should have done a while ago, and he didn’t know if he was going to be able to handle it.
But now that he’d worked things out, in some kind of way, with his father, it was time to make peace with Jenna.
That was why he was just outside of Baltimore, climbing through the hilly cemetery toward her grave.
He hadn’t visited often. Hadn’t been able to. He wasn’t one of those people who thought you should visit a loved one’s grave every week or even every month; he didn’t think Jenna would care. Still, when he saw that some weeds grew along the base of her gravestone, his stomach tightened and he knelt and pulled them out.
Then, carefully, he set a container with her favorite flowers, spring daffodils, alongside the grave. He noticed that some of the other plots had spring flowers coming up naturally, and he decided that he’d plant daffodils in the fall, so they’d come up next year.
He sat and traced the gravestone’s etching with his forefinger: Jenna Gross. Gone too soon.
He closed his eyes for a moment, because she most surely was gone too soon. Cut down when she was full to the brim with life.
He lowered his head, letting it sink into his hands. He didn’t feel like he needed to make peace with his wife in order to try and move forward into a relationship with Bisky. But he did feel like he needed to make peace with Jenna before he could be any kind of a father figure to Sunny if, God willing, Bisky and Sunny accepted him in that capacity. He wanted Jenna to know he wasn’t replacing her, that Sunny wouldn’t be his daughter in quite the same way that Jenna had been. That he’d never forget Jenna, that her picture would always hold a place of honor in his home, that he’d remember her birthday, would watch her videos, would play her favorite songs even as time moved on and those songs weren’t on the radio anymore.
“I’m thinking about starting a scholarship in your name,” he said. The words sounded rusty. He wasn’t the type to talk to a dead person.
But this was Jenna. Jenna, who had been so bright, and so social. Jenna, who had already decided she wanted to attend a Big Ten university so she could join a sorority and go to the football games.
She’d never get to do that.
But William still had his half of Jenna’s college fund, still in the college fund account. He hadn’t been able to make himself withdraw it. Now, he would build on it, maybe even do a little fundraising, and start a scholarship to be given yearly to one of the dock kids, to help them get started as he had been helped.
He told her about it. He called up her favorite song on his phone and played it, and the memory of her singing along in her slightly off-key voice brought tears to his eyes.
He regretted every moment of impatience he’d shown her, every time he’d been too busy to play basketball or dolls with her, even though those moments had been few and far between. He hadn’t treasured her enough. But he had treasured her a lot, had shown her a lot of love.
And he’d always regret, terribly, that he had left her alone on that last day. But he had come to realize that it was more bad luck than his fault. Still, he told her he was sorry.
And then it was as if he could hear her voice, only it was a little mixed with Sunny’s. “Dad, you can’t be with me every minute. I’m fine staying home alone. Everyone does it.”
With a start, he realized that she had said some version of that, sometime in the weeks before she died. And he had lightened up the restrictions on that a little bit, not wanting to hover over her and be a helicopter parent.
“I know I couldn’t be with you every minute, but I wish I had been with you then.” His throat went thick and the tears came then, a lot of them. He hated so much that she’d died alone.
After a long time, William said a prayer of his own, wiped his eyes and blew his nose, and stood. “I’ll be back,” he said. “I’ll tell you how the scholarship goes, who gets it.”
She didn’t answer, of course. But he felt a little more at peace as he turned away and walked back to his car.
Could he move on now? He didn’t know. But the lighter feeling in his heart told him he wanted to try.