Page 13 of The House on Firefly Beach
“You can call me Nate,” he said gently. When Robby refused to acknowledge him, Nate stood back up.
“Will you say hello to Nate?” Sydney asked him.
“Hello,” Robby said bashfully. Then he turned to Sydney. “Will you come inside soon?”
“I’ll be inside in just a minute,” she told her son as he ran back into the cottage.
“Your son looks like you,” Nate said. After that, he was quiet, unspoken words on his lips.
Sydney remembered the article she’d read where he’d said he couldn’t see himself with children, so his comment seemed laden with the screaming reality that what they wanted in life was very different.
They both stood together—so many obstacles stacked between them—and then he spoke again. “I wish things could’ve been different. I thought I was doing the right thing at the time…”
That call he’d made to her right before her wedding came to mind. Despite the way things were between them, he’d made her laugh, bringing up an old memory. And now, here he was, trying to tell her how he felt, when his girlfriend was down the road. In both instances, his timing was unbelievable, and absolutely selfish of him.
He shook his head as if he were jostling the emotions free, an exhale bursting from his lips. Sydney wondered if he, too, was thinking that he shouldn’t be there. She felt guilty for the tiny bit of pleasure she got in his presence. It seemed as though there was unfinished business between them, as if something was still left unsaid and they had this minute to say it.
“I should probably get inside,” she said, wishing all their problems could be like helium balloons and they could both just let go, watching them float away until they were so small they didn’t matter anymore.
“Well, look who the cat dragged in,” Uncle Hank said, stepping outside. His expression was playful but also a little cautious. “I’ve missed ya.”
Nate smiled. “Caught any redfish in the slot?” he asked Uncle Hank.
That was always their first conversation when they hadn’t seen each other in a while. Nate would come home for the summer, sneak up behind Uncle Hank on the shore, throw his arm around him, and ask him that question. Sydney had grown up fishing at Firefly Beach with Uncle Hank so she knew that “in the slot” meant that he’d caught a fish that measured between seventeen and twenty-seven inches in length. Law only allowed fishermen to keep one redfish per day that was in the slot.
“Caught a bull in the Choctawhatchee Bay. Thing weighed twenty-nine pounds.”
Nate raised his eyebrows in interest. “Did you keep it?”
“Nah. I threw him back.”
Nate chuckled. Uncle Hank was never one to keep the fish. Nate had said once that he thought Uncle Hank actually enjoyed setting them free more than hooking them. He’d never harm a soul.
“I didn’t get to talk to you at the wedding,” Uncle Hank carried on, rotating toward the sun and closing his eyes briefly while the orange light washed over his face. “But I’ve got time now.” He turned to Nate. “Wanna come inside and have dinner with us?”
“What about Juliana?” Sydney heard herself ask. Just saying her name out loud caused a torrent of remorse to pelt her insides. Sydney was letting old feelings for Nate seep back in, and now Uncle Hank was asking him to dinner—nota good idea.
“She’s having a spa day with Malory. They aren’t getting back until tonight,” he said. “They’re going to a new beachfront restaurant down the road, in Rosemary Beach.”
Juliana was getting to know Nate’s sister, spending time her… People didn’t do that unless things were serious. But then Sydney’s feelings turned to frustration. Why was Nate even standing on her porch? Had he left for Starlight Cottage the minute Juliana was out of his sight? Sydney had seen the magazine headline: things were looking up for them. Well, maybe Juliana would like to know that her boyfriend had run off to his ex girlfriend’s house… It all gave her a bitter taste in her mouth.
“I don’t think he’s hungry,” she offered, sending an icy glance in Nate’s direction. The ease with which he could pull her in unnerved her, and all she wanted was for him to leave.
“I’m starving, actually,” Nate said.
Uncle Hank threw his arm around Nate. “Well, come in then. We’ve got an extra seat at the table.”
Was this really happening? How would she hold a normal conversation with him there? What were they all going to talk about anyway? She wouldn’t be able to eat a single bite; her stomach would be in knots. Suddenly, Sydney wished she would have crawled into Hallie’s suitcase and shipped herself right off to Barbados because right now, as he looked back at her with those unspoken words of his, she wanted to be as far away from Nate Henderson—or should she say Nathan Carr?—as she could be.
Chapter Five
Over the years, Sydney had allowed moments of affection for Nate, but the more she thought about it, the more she convinced herself it was simply a longing to have the old Nate back. Seeing him in Firefly Beach, those blue eyes on her in the same way they had looked at her so long ago—it was toying with her rational side. She’d gotten very good at building up the walls that could keep her safe from heartbreak, and until Nate went back to LA, she’d have to put that skill to the test. Because hewasgoing back to LA, and back to his life and back to his girlfriend.
Judging by the sparkle in Uncle Hank’s eyes when he talked to Nate, she wondered if he’d missed Nate as much as she had. Uncle Hank had asked him all about Malory and the cottage, how he was doing, and whether he was happy to be back in Firefly Beach again… Sydney had focused on bringing the food to the table and tried to have a regular conversation with her mother to drown him out. She barely even looked Nate’s way.
Nate’s phone went off at the table, the irritation scratching down her spine as he picked it up. “I’m so sorry,” he said, “may I take this call?” Nate put the phone to his ear and stepped over toward the door. “Nathan Carr,” he said into his phone in a business-like tone that she’d never heard before. “Hey… Yes… I was going to touch base when we’re all in the same room for the Grammys…” He stepped outside for a second, an awkward lull hanging in the air as everyone tried to ease the disruption. Soon he was back inside, setting his phone on the table, and dropping into his chair.
It frustrated her to see him sitting in Aunt Clara’s chair. In her mind, that place was reserved for family, and he didn’t feel like family at all anymore.
