Page 62 of Forgiving Her First Love

“Come join us,” she offered impulsively. “I’m only making salmon patties with a salad, but Gramps will enjoy your company.”

It turned into a nice evening with a good meal and some big belly laughs.

“What time does the boy get in tomorrow?” Gramps asked at one point.

“Around two.”

“I’ll come to get him and inspect this new office of yours while I’m there,” Gramps told Logan, briefly turning melancholy as he added, “I wish Wilf could see all the work you boys are getting done. It would have made him really happy.”

Sophie caught the flex of anguish on Logan’s face. She felt it.

So did Gramps because he said, “He did the best he could, son. That’s all any of us can do.”

“Yeah,” Logan said under his breath and ran his hands up and down his thighs.

Sophie heard his regret, his inner question as to whether he had done his best.

“He was really proud of you guys, though,” Sophie said. “It’s not as if he thought you should have stayed here, rather than accomplish all the things you’ve done.”

“We could have come back now and again, though,” Logan said with quiet self-contempt. “I could have thanked him, just once, instead of being so angry…” He shook his head at himself, profile carved to a sharp line as he stared at his empty plate. “Such a waste of energy.”

And time. And opportunity. She felt that, too, as she thought about how much she had resented Logan’s presence here all these weeks, only lately coming around to forgiving him.

He swore under his breath, then shook off his mood. “Everyone done? I’ll wash dishes.”

While Logan did the dishes and Sophie started laundry, Gramps moved into his chair. He was snoring by the time she got back to the kitchen.

“It’s really nice out,” Sophie said as she came in and took up the tea towel. “The sky is pink and the tide is low. If Biyen was here, we would go down to the beach and dig for geoducks.”

“He eats them?”

“No. He likes to count their rings to see how old they are. Sixty-two is the record.”

“That kid,” Logan said with a chuckle. Then, as he rinsed the sink, asked, “Why would you tell me that? You know how competitive I am.”

“You want to go dig geoducks?”

“I was going to head back to the office and put a second coat on the walls, but yeah, let’s go down to the beach for a few minutes.” He dried his hands on the tea towel she still held.

When they came outside a minute later, the breeze was ribboned with the warmth off the dried grass and underlaid by cool, salty currents from the wet tideline.

They ambled down the short path to the beach, which was an eroded drop down to a handful of washed-up logs and a rocky intertidal zone. They hadn’t brought a bucket or shovel which was a small shame because there were tons of holes in the sand, indicating loads of clams and geoducks.

“Why is Biyen a vegetarian? Because his dad is?”

“Yeah, Nolan is very counterculture, in case you haven’t noticed. But Biyen is so nature-focused, avoiding meat is probably something he would have done regardless. It can be a hassle sometimes, but there are worse things a kid could do than make you cook him extra vegetables. That wasn’t a dig,” she added with a small grimace as she heard herself.

“I know.” He shook his head, obviously still ruminating about Wilf.

“Oh, don’t,” she urged, nudging his elbow with her own. “It would be nice if we all had a crystal ball to know what was coming, but we don’t.”

“Precisely why we should be our best self in the moment we’re in.”

“That’s a very lofty aspiration, but it’s not very realistic.” She moved to stand in front of him, drawing his pensive gaze off the distant shores onto her. “We’re all going to be dumb shits sometimes. And life isn’t always going to offer you a tidy choice between black and white. Sometimes you’re going to wind up with regret no matter what you do. Because if you said to me that you wish you hadn’t been my first, and that we didn’t have that memory between us, I’d be really hurt.”

“Ah, Soph.” He dragged her into a loose embrace. “I regret everything about how I treated you that summer except that. If I could…” His tortured voice trailed off.

“No. That’s the point. There was no winning for you that summer.”

---