Page 17 of State of Grace

“Absolutely. And for you, dear?”

“I’ll have the same, thank you.”

“And make the bacon extra crispy, please.” Isla and Blake said the exact words in unison, and it startled them both. Their eyes widened for a moment before they both laughed nervously. Maggie chuckled as she wrote down their order and walked away.

“That was Maggie Carlson, by the way.” Isla picked up her coffee cup and took a sip. “She owns this place with her wife, Amy.”

“Geez, is this whole town gay?”

“It seems that way at times,” Isla chuckled. “Our mayor, Jamie, is gay…”

“Of course, she is.”

“…and she often jokes that the town slogan should be ‘Moonflower Cove: The gayest spot in Maine.’” A roll of her eyes coupled with the uptick of her lips told Blake the town appreciated their unintended slogan. Blake appreciated that there was such openness in the small town, though; it gave her hope for the future.

She had grown up not knowing that some people hated other people based solely on their race or sex. Looking back, Blake knew she had been naïve. At the ripe age of six, she’d been fortunate enough to land a gig on one of the biggest family comedy shows of the decade that featured a variety of different families from different socioeconomic backgrounds in their interconnected, everyday lives. Blake had played the youngest daughter of a gay couple and grew up with her character. By the time the show wrapped over a decade later, Blake was sixteen and one of the most highly sought-after young actresses.

Over the next seven years, Blake built her resume by taking a few episode-long stints on shows and co-starring in movies to get her name out there. She was twenty-three when she’d landed the role as Avery Romano on The Things We Left Behind, and it had turned into the job of a lifetime. Although the show’s ratings started low, they quickly skyrocketed to number one on the charts in the second season, and everything exploded after that. Blake went from being the girl on a show or movie whom people vaguely recognized to not being able to walk down the street without being noticed.

Blake had enjoyed it; it was what she had worked toward her whole career. She’d been so blind that Blake didn’t realize the people she’d surrounded herself with only wanted her for what she could offer them and not for who she was. Even Blake’s ex-girlfriend had been that way.

And then there was her dad.

He’d used her more than anyone, and Blake hadn’t even realized it.

“So,” Blake popped her lips together, “Vera said we needed to talk.”

“I guess after twenty-something years, we probably should.” Isla set down her mug of coffee and nodded as she leaned back in her chair. She pursed her lips together for a moment before letting out a slow breath. Reaching out across the table, Isla started to put her hand on Blake’s arm before stopping short and letting her hand fall to the table. “And, before you ask, I texted and called Mason and asked her to join us, and she said she would try to come by later.”

“Oh.” Blake nervously stirred the straw around her drink. “Does she not want to see me?”

“Mason’s skeptical.”

“Of me?”

“Of everything.” She dryly laughed and shrugged. “Mason’s reserved and quiet but insanely funny and smart and so loyal once she gets to know you. She felt betrayed by your father.” Her words cut Blake unintentionally. “She’s struggled with the fact he took you and left her.”

“God, I hate him for doing this to our family.” She slammed her hand down on the table and Isla quickly covered it with her own. “Why would he do this? I don’t get it. I would give anything to go back and change the way things played out.”

“Do you remember anything about me? About your life with me?”

“Vaguely.” Blake shrugged. “It’s all kinda hazy. My memories on the show mix with my actual memories sometimes, and I can’t remember which happened in real life and which happened on the screen.”

“I can see how that would happen. You were a kid when,” there was a sadness in Isla’s voice, “well. I always watched your shows—every week. And I followed you throughout your career.”

When Blake had found the letters, it’d broken her heart that Isla knew where she lived – or at least knew how to find her – and never came after her. Was she afraid that Blake wouldn’t be what she was expecting? And why hadn’t she fought harder for her?

That question ricocheted from her brain to her mouth without any more thought.

“Why did you let him do it?”

“Excuse me?” Isla seemed surprised and on edge by the anger in Blake’s voice.

“Why did you let him take me from you?” She was aware her voice was laden with anger, and she worked to keep it from rising too loudly. The café was not the place to air out her dirty laundry, but she wanted to talk to Isla. Blake didn’t have any idea how long she’d be in town, and if she didn’t ask when she had the chance, she didn’t know if the opportunity would present itself again. “You didn’t even fight for me.”

“Oh, bullshit.” Isla waved a dismissive hand before pointing a finger at her. The anger and frustration in Isla’s voice matched how Blake felt. “Don’t forget, you only know one side of the story. A side of the story that I had no control over how the narrative was being told. I fought like hell for you. I fought until Mason and I were literally homeless and penniless. I sold everything I had to fight the courts, but your dad always had more money.”

She opened her mouth to respond but stopped herself. Her mother was right; she only knew one side of the story. The side her father had told her since the night he put her in the back of his car and drove them from upstate New York to LA without ever looking back. Until she found the letters, she had no reason to believe her father’s story wasn’t the accurate one.

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