Page 40 of Stick Move

I wave my hand toward my dad. “Brighton, this is my dad, Paul.”

Brighton gives him a big smile. “It’s easy to tell you’re related. You guys look so much alike.”

I glance at my father. His hair is graying with age, and his mustache is more salt than pepper these days, but he’s still a very handsome man. I puff my chest out. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Brighton grins. “You should, it was meant as one.”

Mom claps her hands and glances at us. “My handsome men.” She makes a tsking sound and nods her head toward me. “Hard to believe that one’s still single, isn’t it?”

Deep concern moves into Brighton’s eyes and I can’t help but wonder what’s going through her head, but I’m not going to ask, and I need to redirect this conversation.

“On that note, let’s head up. I’m sure Camryn is anxious to show you around.” Camryn wiggles and I set her down. She runs over and grabs her grandmother’s hand and my stomach tightens as she guides her grandma to the stairs. I could fucking sob as I watch them go, because my daughter has no idea how much more she’s going to lose.

“What about me?” Dad asks, and Camryn huffs.

“Don’t be so slow.”

“Camryn, be nice,” I warn lovingly, and as they all head upstairs, Brighton hangs behind. I walk up to her and her knuckles lightly brush mine.

“You okay?”

I nod. “I am, it’s just…you know.”

“I do know.” She takes my hand and gives it a little reassuring squeeze and it eases some of the hurt inside me. “Come on. Let’s go watch Camryn show them around. She’s so excited.”

We head up the stairs and to my wing of the house. By the time we reach the living room, Camryn has my folks in her bedroom, showing them the huge space as she calls it. Once done, she takes them for a tour of the living room, dining room, and even my bedroom.

Brighton and I wait for them in the kitchen. When they finally all come back, I lean against the counter. “Who wants iced tea?”

“Me, me, me,” Camryn calls out, and I pour her a drink. She takes it and happily plunks down at the table, working on some of her coloring.

“Brighton, you have to try the wine I brought,” Mom insists. “It’s from British Columbia. From a winery right beside Butchart Gardens. I have a friend who lives there and sends it to me.”

Brighton’s eyes widen. “I’d love to try some. I’ve heard of Butchart Gardens. Thank you.”

Dad holds his hand up. “No wine for me.”

“Scotch?” I ask and he gives a firm nod.

“I shouldn’t be having any with training starting, but I’ll have a small one with you.” I go to work on opening the wine and pouring it. Then I make a drink for Dad and me. “How about we sit outside? I have the barbecue heating and I’m just about ready to put the steaks on.”

“Anything I can do, son?” Dad asks.

We step outside and Mom walks up to the rail. She out at the water, a confused look moving over her face. “This is where you live now.” Her voice is low, almost a whisper.

I walk up and stand beside her, leaning on the rail. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I think this would be a great place to raise Camryn.” I nearly choke on my next words. “A great place to make memories.”

Mom turns to me, puts her small hand on my cheek and gives me a smile. “It’s a beautiful place to raise a child, Noah.” Camryn comes out with her coloring and sits at the table.

“Let’s sit.” We walk to the table and she sits across from Brighton, who’s talking quietly to Camryn as she continues to color.

“I’ll grab the steaks,” I announce and check with Brighton to make sure she’s good out here without me. She nods and I dash inside. When I come back out, Mom is sipping her wine and listening to Brighton.

“That’s right. I grew up in this house. The ocean was my playground.”

“You made nice memories?” Mom asks.

Brighton gives a smile. “Many.” Even though she’s saying it with a huge smile, there’s pain behind it. Back in the day, I used to think all the rich kids had it so easy. I don’t think that anymore.

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