Page 104 of Ebbing Tides
Slowly, I nodded. “Yep.”
“I almost forgot about that,” Lizzie said, leaning against her dad, who had remained courteous and quiet as the girls and I exchanged numbers.
But he never left, and I didn’t mind.
I let go of a sigh and looked toward the sky above. The sun was starting to set, and I thought of Laura. I thought of all those times she’d sit outside with me, watching the sunrise despite how tired she was. And never, not once, had I taken the time to watch a sunset with her. Sure, we saw them in passing, but I had never grabbed her by the hand and dragged her outside with the sole intention of taking in the sight of the sun as it kissed the earth and disappeared into the horizon.
I could’ve been a better man.
I could’ve been a better husband.
But, God, how I loved her. I’d loved her then, I loved her now, and I knew I always would. No matter what the future held for me.
I took a deep breath and tucked my phone into my jeans pocket.
“I’d better get going,” I said regretfully.
Lizzie and Jane both nodded, though they didn’t bother hiding their sadness.
“We will see you again, right?” Jane asked.
“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” I replied. “I’ll be back soon.”
Lizzie stepped in to give me one last hug. “We missed you so much, almost as much as we miss her.”
I hugged her tight and pulled her sister in to join us. “The feeling is mutual.”
Brett extended his hand, and I graciously accepted that one small gesture. As we shook, he offered me a smile, and I smiled back, knowing Laura was likely watching somewhere, thrilled that the two men in her life were finally playing nice.
Then I turned to head toward my truck, exhilarated that I’d regained the most important living piece of my past, ready to take it with me into the future.
Assuming, of course, that the future would have me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Welcome to Connecticut.
It had been years since I’d been greeted by that sign. I couldn’t remember when exactly, but it was likely one of the times I had driven to or from the Army base in New Jersey, and it was always seen in passing. I had never stayed for more than the time it took to drive through, apart from that fateful night twenty years ago. Never got the time to get to know the place, never had a reason to get comfortable.
Until now.
Christ, it seemed insane all of a sudden as I drove toward the address I’d pulled up in an internet search. I must’ve completely lost my mind, running away from everything and driving across state lines to profess my love for a woman I’d known for all of a week, and although every atom in my body told me to come to my senses and turn the fuck around, my heart demanded I push forward and keep driving.
So, I did.
And as I drove through the night toward an uncertain future, with Lido snoring at my side, I couldn’t help but do a lot of thinking.
I thought about Grace and Lucy, about Sid and Ricky. How, had I not chosen to become friends with either of them, I’d still be taking care of my little sisters today. Because I never would’ve trusted anyone to do the job other than the two men I’d inadvertently chosen to take my place. And though I might not have been thrilled about it initially, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I thought about Lizzie and Jane and all the time I’d wasted on missing them when I could’ve been watching them become the young women they now were. But regret was nothing but a waste of time in itself, and all I could do was bask in the gratitude of knowing them now. Of being given another chance to rekindle a bond that never should’ve been broken in the first place.
I thought about Maxwell Benjamin Meyer, the grandfather I never knew I had, and the children he had raised—Carol, Jack, and my birth mother, Lilly. There were so many questions I had about the woman who had birthed me, about the family who’d wanted to keep me, and I had to hope he could give me answers. And if he couldn’t … well, I hoped I could find the peace to live with those questions unanswered. But either way, I looked forward to getting to know him, and as that excitement grew, I fantasized about the possibility of making memories I had never thought possible.
Happy holidays.
Relaxed family dinners.
Comfortable conversation.
