Page 81 of The Sea-Mist Cottage Inn
“Oh, Wy. He loved you. So very much. I know that for an absolutely fact. He thought you were amazing, and he was right. You are. Your dad just ... I don’t know why, but he didn’t know how to learn to like something, or even justfake-likesomething, because someone he loved liked it. It made him impatient.”
“I know he loved me. It just didn’t always feel like he wasinterestedin me.”
Jesus Christ. How the fuck had I missed that?
I wrapped my son up tight and held on. “I’m sorry, bud. I should have seen that. I should have done something.”
He shook his head against my chest. “No. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t make him be different than he wanted to be. I just ... I feel so bad feeling this—”
There, my son began to weep.
“I mean, my dad’sdead, and I love him and miss him, and he’sdead, but also all I can think is Roman is so muchbetterat dadding than he was. I think I love Roman like I loved Dad. Maybe more, and that’s sofucked up. I know it’s fucked up! It’s wrong! Isuck!”
He fought to get free, and I let him. He stood up and stormed off, and I let him, sitting on the beach, watching him run away. He got as far as the first big rock in the sand, then stopped and leaned against it.
I got up and made my way back to him. My brain spun; I felt a new level of shame for all the cracks and tears in my previous ‘perfect,’ happy family. I felt guilt for not seeing my son’s need for his father to do better.
Love is necessary, but it’s not enough. There has to be interest, too, and care. Empathy. And sacrifice.
I still did not understand how all this was related to his subdued reaction to my good news about Manfred—except that I was now pretty sure it had to do with Roman.
When I got to him, I set my hand on his shoulder. He turned at once and fell into my arms again. His tears had stopped, but not his sorrow.
“Wyatt. You do not suck. You understand what you needed from your dad and didn’t get, but you still love him. That is the opposite of suck. Unconditional love does not mean uncritical love. It means loving someone even though they aren’t perfect. And Roman—it’s a good thing that he gives you what you need. You’re not shopping for a new dad. Your dad will always be your dad. You’ve just found somebody who makes you feel good and important. Which you are. Both good and important.”
“I don’t want to go back to the Sea-Mist, Mom. I want to stay with Roman.”
Oh. Wow. I didn’t know what to say, but Wyatt didn’t give me much time to think of something.
“I know it’s none of my business, if you guys are a couple or not, but I want you to be. I want us to stay with him.”
Gently, I pushed him back. With the sleeve of my hoodie, I helped him wipe his tears away.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
“Don’t be. I’m so glad you told me what’s worrying you.” Forming my thoughts as I selected my words, I continued, “I love Roman. And he loves me. We both love you.”
Wyatt smiled weakly, abashedly.
“And I like being at his house, too. But it’s early, bud. I don’t want to do anything recklessly. And I don’t want to put pressure on us when we’re new. Do you understand?”
“It’s too early to move in for real,” he said, looking at our feet.
“I think it probably is. It’s one thing to be staying temporarily while we have need, and something else entirely to move in for real. But that doesn’t mean Roman and I are going to break up, or that he won’t be exactly who he is in your life wherever we live. It just means that we want things to work out, and we know we need to be smart and careful so they have the best chance of working out. You understand?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I get it.” With a sigh, he added, “Do we have to move into some motel now, since the insurance will pay for it? Or can we at least stay with Roman while we work on the Sea-Mist?”
I chuckled and pulled him in for a hug. “How about we sit down, the three of us, and talk that out.”
THIRTY-THREE: Epiphany
We didn’t move into a hotel. Ever.
Roman and I had talked about the plan on the night after the flood, when he asked us to stay with him. I’d been clear then that I was grateful and happy to accept the offer, but I expected that Wyatt and I would relocate to the bed and breakfast as soon as the insurance stuff was settled. He’d said we were welcome for as long as we wanted to stay, but he also agreed with my B&B plan.
However, when I raised the topic again, over dinner that night after the beach, Roman had positivelyleaptat the idea we’d stay.
When I’d started to ramble about being grateful and not wanting to impose, he’d grabbed my hand, leaned in close, and, with that depth-finding gaze of his, told me, “Leo. I am telling you that Iwantyou here. You don’t need to be grateful, and you’re not imposing. I want this.” Then he’d grabbed Wyatt’s arm. “I want both of you with me. I am happier with you here than I’ve been in years. If that’s what you want, too, then this is perfect.”
