Page 3 of Just My Style

I peek around Margo to see Hildy sitting up in her crib. She’s wide awake, giving us a big, wet smile. With a soft laugh, I walk across the room and lift the sweet girl into my arms. “Hiya, Hildy. Can you say Cara?”

Margo chuckles, placing Fisher in the crib, and rubbing his head with her palm. “Sweet dreams, Fishy.”

Busted! I point a finger at her. “You just called him Fishy,” I whisper.

Her cheeks redden. “No, I didn’t,” she hisses. But when her eyes meet mine, we both dissolve into a fit of giggles. Baby Hildy coos along, as if she’s in on the joke.

Chapter 2

Victor

Navigating through Savannah’s airport in July is like running the gauntlet. I dodge tourists left and right and hop over rolling luggage when people cut me off. My cell phone buzzes in my pocket, and I step to the side, away from all the people, to see who’s calling. I sigh when I see Jared’s name on the screen.

I’ve just deboarded the plane and haven’t even had a chance to pop by the restroom yet, let alone don the emotional armor that it takes to have a conversation with the nineteen-year-old son I had no idea existed until almost a year ago.

Steeling myself, I tap the screen to accept the call. “Hey, buddy,” I say cheerfully.

He snorts derisively. “Buddy? Are you serious? I’m not eleven years old.”

I hold back a sigh, struggling to maintain a breezy tone. “What’s up?”

“Just wondering when you’ll be back in town. While you’ve been on vacation, I’ve been busy working on stuff for Hank Heron Appreciation Week. It’d be nice to get some help.”

Closing my eyes, I slowly inhale and exhale. “I wasn’t on vacation, Jared,” I remind him. “I had a speaking obligation at the American Heart—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says petulantly. “We have a lot to do. When will you be back?”

“I just landed in Savannah. I’m still at the airport, but I’ll be—”

“Good. When you’re back, contact Sean at the mayor’s office. He’ll let you know where you’re most needed. You’ll also need to ask him if there’s anyone who doesn’t have a partner for the Friendly Beach Passport activities.”

“I thought you and I would be working together?” I say, hating the pathetic tone of my voice. My question is met with silence. Did he hang up on me?

I wait a few moments before clearing my throat. “Son? Are you still there?”

“Don’t call me son,” he snarls.

His words slice through my heart, sharper than a dagger. “Sorry,” I murmur.

He sighs. “Maybe you should just stay in New York.”

“I’ve already landed,” I point out. “And Friendly is my home now. Not New York.”

“I didn’t ask you to move here, so it’s not fair for you to expect me to turn my life upside down to accommodate you,” he grumbles.

“I’m not trying to turn your life upside down, Jared. We’re the co-founders of the Hank Heron Foundation. We agreed to do this together, remember?”

It’s amazing how much can change in a year. Last summer, he was more open to getting to know me. He wasn’t exactly eager, making it clear that he already had a father-figure in his life, his mom’s husband, Bishop. He also has his Uncle Tuck. But he didn’t slam the door in my face at every turn like he does now. I was hopeful that we could have a relationship. If not a father/son relationship, at least a friendly one. Wishful thinking.

When his summer break ended and he returned to college, his mood changed. I know a big part of that had to do with his long-term girlfriend, Mandy, moving to France for the school year. For Christmas, I gave him a roundtrip ticket to Paris to visit her. He’d been thrilled with the gift, but apparently, the visit hadn’t gone well, and they’d broken up while he was there. One more thing for him to blame me for…

Since then, things between us have been on a downward trajectory. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to pull us back to a level playing field.

“So?” Jared responds. “That doesn’t mean we have to spend every waking minute together.”

“We haven’t spent more than a few hours alone together in the year I’ve been in Friendly,” I say, opting for honesty and vulnerability. “I just want to get to know you, Jared.”

“You gave up the right to know me when you abandoned me at birth.”

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