Page 42 of Anchor Point

I didn’t want to have these feelings.

This pride.

This intense longing to know everything about my daughter. Or her mother.

This sudden consideration for another person in my life was frustrating and confusing and way more than I bargained for.

It had been just Buster and me for so long, I’d come to accept it. I was used to it. Throwing in another person—or people, actually, because Rosie came with Olivia and vice versa—was upsetting my life, and I didn’t have the emotional or mental capacity to process all the changes.

I was deep in the zone when a small shuffle sounded at the door. Staying focused on the layer of stain I was applying, I tried to ignore it. Buster tunneled his way into my line of sight, crawling between my legs and laying his head on my thigh. Since he’d ditched me the moment Rosie had climbed in the truck, I knew who I’d find at the door.

Dropping the pretense of work, I balanced the application sponge on the top of the can and gave him my attention.

“Are you mad?” Rosie’s voice was small, hesitant.

I focused on Buster so I could avoid looking at her. Because apparently, I was a sucker for my daughter.

“No.” My voice sounded gruff to my own ears. I sounded mad. I sounded like an asshole; I knew it and still couldn’t stop it. But she deserved better than a clipped response. On a sigh, I continued, “I’m processing a lot right now, kiddo. But I’m not mad. There’s nothing to be mad about.”

“I get it. It’s been a dramatic day. And you’ve had to do it with us crashing your space.”

I hated that she sounded so withdrawn and defeated, and I’d done that to her by hiding from her.

“Listen.” I hesitated, making sure to choose the right words. “We’ve all had a lot to adjust to. It’s going to take some time to figure out our new reality. Plus, I think I deserve a little bit of understanding here. You’ve known about me a hell of a lot longer than I’ve known about you.”

Sadness leaked from her. Sweet, stubborn, foolish teenage kid. Even standing in the doorway looking like I’d kicked her puppy. Could she not be so adorable?

“I don’t want to be a burden, Mac. I just… want to know you. That’s all.”

The chin quiver broke my resolve to keep my distance. I drew her into my arms because I wasn’t a total asshole, and when I saw tears, I wanted them to stop.

With her face buried in my chest, and my arms around her slight shoulders, I knew my life was never going to be the same.

The retirement I’d been looking so forward to was suddenly in jeopardy. All the plans I’d made were suddenly in limbo. Every decision I’d ever made to move me toward the early retirement that was within my grasp was now threatened… possibly put on hold. And it didn’t sit well.

My father had died three months before he was able to retire. I watched the man work his fingers to the bone. He’d looked so forward to moving to the lake house and never gotten to enjoy it. I’d been so determined not to follow in his footsteps.

I was on track to have everything paid for and be able to retreat to this place permanently, and I was ready. I didn’t recover from the all-nighters like the younger guys did. My body ached daily from the wear and tear of hauling heavy equipment and being on the go all the time. It was harder to come down from the adrenaline rush of going from a dead sleep to flat-out sprinting to the truck.

Still, my plans weren’t her burden to bear. It was my decision, my choice to make on how I handled this going forward. All she’d asked from me was time spent together. I gave her a reassuring squeeze and pressed my lips to her hair.

“You’re not a burden, Rosie. We’ll figure it out.” Maybe it was odd that I’d fallen so hard, so fast for this girl, but the truth was, I had. We’d figure out the rest later.

We left the garage and headed to the house. Rosie wasn’t completely back to her normal cheerful attitude, but she wasn’t crying anymore either, so I took it as a win. Olivia was at the table when we arrived, muttering to her laptop with a frown.

“This can’t be right.”

“Mom talks to her computer all the time. Just some FYI for you,” Rosie informed me. She picked up a ball and dangled it in front of Buster’s nose. “Come on, buddy, let’s go play.”

Buster followed her like a lovesick fool. I’d have to come to terms with losing my dog.

“What’s wrong?” I asked Olivia, reaching for a beer from the fridge, noticing the distinct lack of real food. Rosie and I had stopped at the grocery store on the way in, but we were running low on supplies.

“We have a whole set of bunker gear and a SCBA unit missing.” Olivia scrolled through a document and noted the totals again. “There’s some other stuff, too.” She rubbed her forehead in exasperation. “It just doesn’t make sense.”

I wanted to tell her that it would be okay, but I knew she was under an enormous amount of pressure from city hall, and having missing inventory when she was trying to justify budget spend was a big deal. I opened my mouth and closed it, because anything I could say would just be a platitude, and she deserved better than that.

My phone chimed on the counter. Hers rang at the same time.

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