Page 77 of Between Two Shores

“When’s the wedding, Lachie?”

“Mom. We’re not officially dating. We are, but we’re not. If you know what I mean.”

“Right. Got it. Well, I want weekly updates from now on.”

He saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

Lachlan wiped sweaty palms down the sides of his suit pants as he walked through the doors of Harbor of Hope. Winston Michaels had been vague about the reason for the unexpected meeting, but he assumed Beth’s dad had concerns about the unmistakable relationship that had developed between him and Beth. In the last two months since he’d arrived in Australia, she’d invited him to every family dinner, charity meeting or social event. They barely left each other’s sides and he didn’t mind the teasing from her sisters. He was in love—big time. No point hiding it.

He climbed wooden stairs to the mezzanine level of the industrial-style building.

The receptionist took off her glasses and stood when he rounded the corner. Her pleasant smile gave him a burst of courage. He could do this. Come what may with Beth’s father, Lachlan would validate his concerns and respect what the man had to say.

“Mr. Peters, you’re nice and early. Winston is free to see you now. Follow me.” She waved.

“Thank you.” He couldn’t place her name. It would come to him, though. While helping the volunteer team each Saturday, he learned at least ten new names a week.

The middle-aged woman clipped a brisk pace down the corridor, her bobbed chestnut hair bouncing along. He passed three offices on the left with clear doors and windows. A social worker studied his computer screen intently. Another door down, the rehab coordinator chatted on her cell using animated hand gestures. The third office was empty. Beth worked at Youth Connect on Fridays and he’d join her later. He hadn’t bothered telling her about this meeting. He wanted to see what it was all about and avoid Beth’s attempts to protect him from her dad’s interrogations. Lachlan had nothing to hide.

The compact kitchenette on the right had an old-fashioned table with a swirly pink countertop and steel edging. The receptionist halted on the next step to Winston’s office and tapped on his glass door.

She turned to Lachlan, smiled big and nodded. “Good to go.” She headed back down the corridor, humming a tune.

Beth’s father opened the door, offering a polite smile, but a hint of something else shadowed his expression. Melancholy?

Winston shook his hand clasping his free hand over Lachlan’s wrist, as always. The gesture conveyed a deeper desire to connect. “Lachlan, thank you for coming.” He pointed to a high-back leather chair. “Please, join me.”

The jittery sensation in his throat calmed as he sat and released a breath. “I like the personalized touches you’ve made to your office.” Lachlan pointed to the embossed painting of a tiger framed in antique brass.

Winston turned to the wall. “Amy painted that.”

“Wow. She’s very talented.” The tiger had a penetrating gaze. Even from Lachlan’s angle, the tiger peered into his soul. The warmth of bronze blends in its fur blew in a breeze.

“Beth’s sister went to art school before she married. She’ll return to her career once Talicia is in school.” He gave a warm chuckle. “Unless another grandchild comes along. I won’t be complaining.” Winston swiveled in his chair and faced Lachlan. “I would love her to paint a mural in the main hall. A big project, but I know she has the skill to do it.”

Lachlan nodded at the painting once more. “I agree.”

Winston threaded his fingers together. “So, you must be wondering why I called you in today?”

He squirmed in his seat. “I have some idea, I believe.”

Winston’s brows rose. “It’s not about Beth.”

Lachlan’s spine slumped and the tension eased. “Really?”

Winston gave a deep, rumbling laugh. “It’s obvious you care for my daughter. But that’s not what this meeting is about.” His smile widened. “Beth may think I’m overprotective, but it’s not my place to direct her future.” Winston’s smile dropped. “The Nick situation proved that. I did a terrible job.” He shook his head. “And that is why I wanted to ask for your help.”

Lachlan perked up. “Help?”

“Yes. I’ve done some soul searching and have concluded that I don’t have all the answers.” His booming laugh returned. “Took me to sixty-one to realize that.”

The man’s transparency refreshed Lachlan. He gave his full attention. “So, how can I help you, sir?”

“You aren’t in the Navy anymore, Lachlan. Winston is fine.” He grinned. “As a qualified counselor, I figure you know far more than I in regards to mental health.” He rubbed his weathered chin. “I admit, I face too many situations in the charity that are beyond my capacity. We refer people to services but I know many don’t follow through. It would be better if we had someone here to start them on their journey to better mental health. A step in the process since we’ve built initial trust.” He adjusted in his seat. “I’ve been narrow-minded in my approach in the past.”

“I’m sure what happened with Nick has certainly raised some questions.” He cleared his throat. “From what I’ve heard, Nick had a genuine passion to help people.” A heaviness hung in his gut. “I haven’t stopped thinking about the guy. I hope things work out for him and he gets the help he needs.”

“Me too.” Winston’s face became somber. “Unfortunately, I’m not the only charity leader in my city who’s missed the signs.” He shook his head and stared at the mahogany desk before meeting Lachlan’s eyes. “A bigger charity in Perth witnessed a tragic suicide last year.”

---