Page 47 of Quintessentially

“Have you learned any more about the Sheers girl?”

My eyes close and my jaw tightens. “Her name is Kandace, Dad. I mentioned her every damn year when I came back to Oakmont.”

“And she had your kid.”

That isn’t an actual question, but I reply, “Kandace has a daughter. Her name is Molly, and yes, she’s mine.”

“You need a blood test. You can’t be sure.”

The blood in my veins grows hot. “I am sure.”

“Hmm.”

Taking a deep breath, my chest expands. “What are you worried about?”

“Son, you have a good job. You’ve worked hard, and your mother’s heard from some of the partners that they’re looking to make you one. At your age, that’s phenomenal. Your work in London has stood out. There’s nowhere to go but up. Fine, if this kid—”

“Molly,” I say, interrupting him.

“If Molly is yours, you can work out child support.”

“Kandace doesn’t want that. I offered.”

“But she wants Mom’s store.”

I don’t like where this is going. “Grandma left the store to Kandace.”

“My mother knew nothing about the way things work. I’m surprised Jeffrey Murphy let her put the girl in the will. It’s a travesty. Devaluing Quintessential Treasures is bad for all the property in Riverbend.”

“And you give a shit about Riverbend, right, Dad?”

“I care about you, Dax. Don’t give up your life and dreams because of one mistake. Take responsibility and move on.”

I see the pictures I chose not to return to the box and smile.

“The only mistakes I made were not knowing about Molly and not coming back to Riverbend as I promised. Now that I do know, I plan on rectifying both.”

“Don’t be rash, son. It sounds like the girl is handling the situation. That’s her choice.”

“The girl is Kandace, and she is a woman. From now on, use her name. And you know what?” I ask rhetorically. “She has handled our daughter and the store too. She’s pretty fucking strong and amazing.” I grin. “I can’t predict the future, but I know a few things: I will be part of Molly’s life, and if she’ll let me, a part of Kandace’s too.”

“What about Quintessential Treasures?” he asks.

“I already told Kandace that I’ll sign the papers.”

“Think like an attorney, not a heartsick teenager.”

“Thanks for the advice, Dad. I’m not a teenager, and as for my heart, I think Kandace has owned it for as long as I can recall. I’m hanging up now. Enjoy sunny Florida. Bye.”

Staring up at the ceiling in the bedroom, I contemplate my father’s concerns. As per usual, his approach and delivery sucks, but what he said makes me think. It’s a four- to five-hour drive from my place in Chicago to here, depending on traffic. As I drift to sleep, I wonder about buying a house so I can have a place to stay when I’m here.

I’m almost asleep when the realization hits.

I’ll buy this house.

My alarm goes off before sunrise. As I move, every muscle in my body aches. Splashing cool water on my face, I stare into the mirror above the vanity. From only one day of working in the fields, my cheeks are red. Turning my hands over, I stretch out my fingers and see the blisters.

My father would think I’m crazy, but I’m more energized to spend the day walking behind a trailer and throwing bales of hay than I am to make multi-million-dollar deals. I can’t describe it, but there is something real in Riverbend that doesn’t exist in Chicago. Or maybe I haven’t found it there because since I was young, I knew it was here.

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