Page 135 of Summer After Summer

“Not really.” I sit in the chair in front of his desk. When I was little, I used to sit here, with my legs swinging, if I was in trouble. My father preferred lectures about comportment over real punishments, so I knew I simply had to listen, and when he was done, I’d be free.

“What would you like to talk about?”

“Are you sure you want to move out of Southampton?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“It will be different.”

William’s hand rests on the book’s cover. “I think that might be a good thing.”

“Oh?”

“I wouldn’t want to be reminded … Well, let’s just say I have some regrets, my dear. Of a financial nature.”

“It’s funny to think this whole time we were sitting on this enormous asset.”

“I knew that.”

“You did?”

“I wanted to preserve it for you. For all of you. And I thought, maybe one day, one of you would live here.”

“Charlotte did live here. She does.”

“Yes, but to be honest, Olivia, I always thought it would be you. When you finished your world traveling. You always loved the house as much as me.” His eyes mist over, and there’s a lump in my throat. “But instead, you stayed away.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why, though? I know I wasn’t always the best father …”

“No, it wasn’t your fault.”

“No?”

“No, I … I don’t know how to express it … I do love it here, but it makes me sad.”

“Because of your mother?”

“Yes, that’s part of it. I always felt … lost here, I guess?”

“I’m sorry.”

I smile at him. “There’s nothing to apologize for. But things would’ve been different if Mom hadn’t died.”

“Yes,” he sighs. “The great tragedy of my life.”

“Were you never lonely? You didn’t want to marry again?”

“No one could live up to her.”

“You were happy? She was happy?”

He wipes his thumb underneath his eye. I’ve never seen my father cry. Not one time after my mother died, at least not in front of us.

“I think so.”

“Why did you get married so young?”

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