Page 76 of Inseverable (Carolina Beach)

Landon leans back on his heels. “Why’d you go there?” he asks.

The humor fades from Trin’s face. “I didn’t get a good feeling from her when you brought her home for Christmas.” She waits as if unsure if she should say more. But she does only because I think she needs to. “She’s not a good person, Landon. And I’m not just saying that because of what she does for a living. There’re plenty of nice girls out there who dance at those places. But she’s not what of them.”

He squares his jaw. “I’m sorry you feel that way because I asked Bernadette to marry me. And she said yes.”

If a dead body had fallen from the sky and landed on the table, I don’t think the impact would have been any different. For a long moment, no one speaks.

I thought Trin would say something first, but it ends up being Owen. “We’ve been planning this week for a while now, boy. To surprise Trin, and for us to have time with her and her fella’.”

“Yes, sir,” Landon says.

“Then why isn’t Bernadette here? If you’re bringing her into this family, why isn’t she here with us now? This here time’s important.”

I frown, wondering what he means exactly. But as I realize how serious Trin and I have become, I dismiss it as an important next step in our relationship. My attention returns to her brother, recognizing the hurt behind Owen’s anger.

Landon pauses, anger flickering beneath his stance. Somehow though, I don’t think it’s directed at his father. “Bernadette’s busy with school and can’t get off work, sir.”

“It’ssummer,” Owen says. “How heavy can her course load be? And if she’s latched onto you, she knows you can take care of her so she doesn’t have to work?especially where she’s working.”

Landon doesn’t have a response for that. Silvie who’s been quiet lifts her basket. “Trinity,” she says. “Be a dear and help me with the potato salad. They should be cooled off by now.”

Trin eases off my lap. “Yes, ma’am,” she says. She walks into the house, but not before sparing me a worried glance over her shoulder.

“Momma,” Landon begins.

Miss Silvie shakes her head. “Not now, son.”

We watch her disappear down the steps. No one says anything for a long time. After a moment, Landon returns to his seat beside his father. I don’t remember any quiet father and son moments myself. Those few times my daddy bothered to make an appearance, our interactions were loud and fired with resentment. This isn’t what’s happening here. Yet it doesn’t make the moment any less tense.

“I’ll let you two talk,” I say.

I push my seat away from the table. But before I can rise Owen shakes his head. “No. Stay. There’s nothing to talk about.” He looks at Landon. “He’s a man. He can do whatever he wants.”

“Thank you, sir,” Landon says quietly.

“Don’t thank me for this, son,” Owen says. “Not even a little bit. But if you want to stay a part of this family, you’ll have a pre-nup drafted and signed before you slip a ring on her finger.”

Landon doesn’t look at him when he answers. “Yes, sir.”

Owen loads his shotgun, the aggression in his movements reminding me that just because he’s mad at his son, doesn’t mean he’s forgotten that I’m the man sleeping with his little girl.

“You going hunting?” I ask him.

“No. I keep it loaded for intruders.” He lays the shotgun in front of him and levels his stare on me. “And for anyone who tries to hurt my family,” he adds.

This time, I’m the one to meet him square in the eye. “I would never hurt anyone in your family, sir,” I tell him truthfully. “Especially Trinity.”

He leans back in his chair and considers me. When he speaks, I’m caught off guard by what he asks. “Do you hunt?”

I frown, wondering where he’s headed with this, but manage to shake my head. “I used to,” I respond. “But not anymore.” I don’t add that once you hunt people, you don’t look at hunting the same, even though it’s true.

He picks up on what I left unsaid. “I haven’t hunted either . . . not since Somalia.”

I tilt my head slightly so he knows that I understand. Yeah, me and Trin’s daddy have plenty in common.

“Have you picked up a gun since Iraq?”

“Just a rifle I own,” I admit. “But only to move it here. Like you, I keep it around for intruders even though it’s unlikely I’ll encounter one on Kiawah.”

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