Page 42 of Despite It All
“No rush, Wy.” She gives me another soft smile then turns back down the hallway. I can’t help but watch her until she disappears into her room.
I turn, and my sister is staring at me with a clown-sized smile. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“You love her,” Anna sings.
“Don’t start, Anna. Please.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll stop. I’m just saying, keep being super dad like that and I’m sure she’ll love you too.” Anna attempts to give me a small shove. “Who knew you’d be such a good dad?”
“Gee, thanks, but I didn’t really do anything.”
“You’re doing more than you think, J.”
Once we get the bags loaded into Wyla’s car and get Stevie buckled in we’re headed to one of the public beaches in the next town over. Northshore is only about a twenty-minute drive, and I believe Stevie has not taken a breath between words in the past fifteen.
“Hey,” Wyla says hushed as Stevie talks Anna’s ear off. Not that she seems to mind. “Fair warning. My parents are going to join us for the first few hours, then when the kids seem tired they’re going to take them back to their house.”
“I’m assuming you’re not giving me this warning because your dad has suddenly decided he likes me now, are you?”
Wyla’s lips form a thin line and shakes her head. I let my head fall back on the head rest. No, of course not.
“He can be a little tough, Jett, but he’ll come around.”
I hold back a fake laugh. “He hates me, Wyla. I don’t blame him. I’d hate me too.”
“Well, he shouldn’t. He doesn’t need to put all of the blame on you, I’m just as much to blame, more really. So—”
“More? No, come on, Wy. Don’t do that.”
Wyla gives me a quick glance with furrowed brows. “Don’t do what?”
“Take unnecessary blame.” Wyla shakes her head again. “I’m serious, Wyla. It’s no more your fault than it is mine.”
“We’re not talking about this,” Wyla clips.
Is this what’s holding her back? Does she blame herself?
“Wy—”
“Hey, Stevie, look, we’re here!” Wyla cuts me off, ending our conversation with her most effective failsafe, our daughter.
“Yay!” Stevie screams from the backseat.
We unload the chatterbox and all of the bags. Stevie is practically vibrating with joy. She skips, bounces, and dances down the walkway to the beach.
Thankfully, the beach isn’t too crowded today, but we still have to walk a little way down before we find Wyla’s family.
They’ve got about six umbrellas set up in a U-shape and chairs scattered under and around them in the sun.
Waverley is the first to notice us walking up. She stands up with outstretched arms. “Ah, my Evie girl!”
“Wayway!” Stevie runs to her, giving her a big hug. “Is Belley here?”
Belley—or Annabelle—is Waverley and Owen’s adopted daughter. Anna told me some of their story. I know Annabelle is technically Owen’s niece, although he’s always been her father figure. Anna was trying to give me the breakdown of Wyla’s family, but we didn’t get to finish because Wy and Stevie came over for dinner. But I was told specifically to not ask Owen or Waverley what happened. I’ll have to get the full story from Wyla one day.
“Of course, she’s throwing one of those skipping balls in the water with her dad and Uncle Levi.” Waverley points out into the ocean to show Stevie.
Stevie’s eyes go wide as she turns to me. “Ooo, ooo, Daddy, can we go out in the water?”
