Page 91 of Daddy Down Under

“I’m interested in anything that brings life and beauty into the world,” Ocean replied, and I swear my father actually blushed.

I caught Mom watching me, and her knowing smile made me duck my head. Yeah, I had it bad. And from the looks of it, my parents were already halfway in love with Ocean too.

“Well, let me tell you about our plans for spring,” Dad said, already moving toward his favorite armchair. “We’re expanding the vegetable garden this year, and I’ve got some interesting heirloom tomato varieties…”

Ocean followed him eagerly, settling onto the couch while Mom disappeared into the kitchen, presumably to fetch the apple cinnamon bread. I trailed behind her, needing a moment to compose myself. The way Ocean had instantly connected with my parents, how naturally he fit into this space that had always been my sanctuary, was overwhelming in the best possible way.

“He’s wonderful, Cash,” Mom said softly as she pulled the bread from the cooling rack. Her hands moved with practiced efficiency as she sliced it. “The way he looks at you…”

“Mom,” I warned, but my voice was thick with emotion.

She turned to face me, her eyes serious. “I’ve never seen you like this. So…open. Happy.” She touched my cheek, the gesture so familiar it made my chest ache. “It’s all we’ve ever wanted for you.”

Ocean’s laughter rang out from the living room, followed by Dad’s deeper chuckle. The sound wrapped around me like a warm embrace.

“I love him.”

Mom’s eyes welled again. “I know, sweetheart. I knew the moment you walked in.” She patted my chest. “You’re carrying yourself differently. Like you’ve finally let go of something heavy you’ve been holding on to for far too long.”

My mom had always seen far more than I wanted her to. Before I could respond and confirm how right she was, Ocean’s voice called out, “Hey, Cash! Your dad’s showing me pictures of teenage you. Nice hair, baby!”

I groaned. “Dad, please tell me you didn’t break out the photo albums.”

“Of course I did,” Dad replied unapologetically. “Ocean needs to see what he’s getting himself into.”

“Dude, you had a mullet!” Ocean’s delighted laughter filled the room as he leaned closer to the photo album spread across his lap. “Business in the front, party in the back, and all that jazz.”

“It was the style,” I defended weakly, dropping onto the couch beside him. The old leather creaked beneath our combined weight.

“That style was a crime against humanity,” Mom chimed in, setting a tray of coffee and bread on the coffee table. The cinnamon aroma wafted through the air, making my mouth water. “I kept telling him to cut it, but you know how teenagers are.”

Ocean’s shoulder pressed against mine as he turned another page. “Oh man, look at those acid-wash jeans. You were such a little rebel.”

“Still is,” Dad said with a knowing smile. “Remember when you tried to convince us to let you buy the house next door and convert it into a bed and breakfast?”

“A bed and breakfast?” Ocean’s eyes lit up like a sunrise over water. “Please tell me there’s more to this story.”

I groaned. “There really isn’t?—”

“Oh, there absolutely is.” Mom settled into her reading chair with her coffee. “He was seventeen and had this whole business plan worked out. New York City drew big crowds of tourists, and he was convinced we could make money off them.”

Ocean nudged me playfully. “Already showing those CEO skills.”

“Oh, he was, but he’d forgotten about the fact that someone needed to run it and it couldn’t be him since he was still in school. And no way was I quitting a federal job with great benefits and a nice pension for something that uncertain, no matter how great of an idea it was.”

Dad chuckled. “Cash has always dreamed big.”

The warmth in Dad’s voice made my throat tight. I watched as Ocean absorbed every detail of these stories, these pieces of my past, with genuine interest and affection. His hand found mine, fingers intertwining like they belonged there.

The apple cinnamon bread was amazing, and we chatted about everything and nothing until it was time to bring up the toughest subject. I took a deep breath, finding strength in Ocean’s hand in mine. “There’s one thing about Ocean that I haven’t told you guys yet because I wanted to tell you in person.”

My parents looked at me with a mix of curiosity and dread, probably picking up on my heavy tone.

“Ocean’s real name is Palmer. Palmer Levine. He’s Preston’s son.”

I’d rarely seen my father so speechless. My mom recovered first. “Are you…? Do you still talk to him?” she asked Ocean.

“No. I haven’t seen him in almost five years.” He hesitated. “He wasn’t a good father, to put it mildly. He was mostly absent, and in the end, he was… He hit me.”

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