Page 58 of Love, Lies, and Celtic Knots

“Si. I can meet you there. What time?”

“Is an hour too soon?” I ask hesitantly.

“No, my daughter. I’ll be there.” He hangs up, and I wipe away the tears flowing down my cheeks.

I arrive thirty minutes early and sit in my car, going over in my mind what to say to my father when I see him. Ten minutes before he’s due to arrive, I get out and take a seat on the porch of the rustic restaurant converted from an old coastal cottage, crossing and uncrossing my legs nervously as I go over in my head what to say when I see him. Exactly one hour from our call, I’m standing on the porch when I spot my father walking up the path. He looks so much older than I remember, so much smaller. As he comes closer, I can see the wrinkles on his weathered face and the silver streaks in his formerly jet-black hair. His eyes are haunted with sadness. The words I was prepared to say when I saw him flit away with the coastal breeze as soon as I lay eyes on him. He looks sad and broken.

As he climbs the steps, I close the distance between us. His face lights up with a smile as he pulls me in for a long hug, then releases me, looking me over from head to toe as he openly assesses me.

“You’ve changed,mi hija. All grown up into a beautiful woman.”

A hostess seats us at a table in front of a window overlooking the lake. An awkwardness sets in between us. Now that we’re face to face, my brain is swimming in confusion. The boiling confrontation that we should have had nine years ago has simmered down to nothing but a hint of emotion. It’s no longer about the why, but more about thewhat if? What if we both had done things differently? Where would we be right now? What have we missed out on? It’s no longer necessary to press my father for details about what he did that fateful day. So, I let him talk.

“I’m so sorry for everything. I didn’t realize at the time that what I did was going to have an impact on you. My loyalties were misplaced. It should have always been family first, since you are the only family I have. But I was thinking of myself. I was weak and didn’t stand up for what was right. I hope you can forgive me.”

“I’m sorry too, Papa. I was selfish, too. Thinking of appearances. More concerned with what Brennen and his family would think of me, rather than giving you a chance to explain. I was young and naïve, so I ran. And once I was gone, and time had passed, it became harder and harder to look back. I’ve missed you so much. Something happened recently that made me realize I don’t want to live with regrets. I didn’t want to risk not being able to make things right with you and say all the things that need to be said while I still can. While you’re still around to hear them.”

My father has always been a man of few words. He silently reaches across the table to hold my hand. His hand is like his face. Weathered. Wrinkled. Rough. But it’s like a lifeline to my soul, and I’m not going to let go.

“Papa, I want to move forward with you and try to forget about the past. Can we do that? Take it one day at a time?”

I don’t remember ever seeing my father cry before. He’s always been the strongest man I know. A tear forms in the corner of his eye. “I’d like that, daughter. Since you left, that’s all I could manage to do. Take one day at a time. Ever since then, I haven’t been living, I’ve just been existing. It’s been so lonely without you. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you in my life now that you’re back.”

He looks at me with a hopeful expression. “Are you back here to stay?”

“Yes, Papa. I’m here to stay. Regardless of what happens.”

As we peruse the menu to decide what to order, his phone vibrates on the table. My tears turn into laughter as I notice that, indeed, he still has the flip phone. Even though it’s old, it does have a screen on the front that identifies the caller when it’s closed.

Celtic Knot.

Papa looks down at his phone, but doesn’t pick it up. I notice a slight trembling in his hand as he raises his water glass and takes a big gulp. He said he left the winery years ago. Why would they be calling him now? Part of me wants to know, and part of me doesn’t.

“Aren’t you going to answer?”

“I don’t know what to do. Do you know why someone from the winery is calling me?”

“No, Papa. I don’t.”

He shrugs his shoulders and I bite my lip in anticipation as he answers the call.

“Hola?”

I can’t hear the voice on the other end of the line, only Papa’s responses.

“Yes, Brennen. I’m fine… Okay… I’ll see you then.”

He disconnects and takes another drink from the water glass.

“What is it? What does Brennen want?” I ask nervously.

“He wants to talk to me about coming back to work for him.”

Brennen wants him back? Would he want me back?“Is that something you wish to do?”

He turns the question back to me. “Is it something you wish me to do?” His eyes narrow in suspicion. “Did you ask Brennen to call me?”

“No! I did not ask anyone to call you.” I wince, as that came out harsher than I intended. Just because Brennen is asking Papa to return, doesn’t mean he wants me. Hell, he doesn’t even know I’m here unless Emma made good on her threat and told him. I pick up my own water glass, needing the distraction. Perhaps I should have ordered a glass of wine instead.

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