“Hey, Dad.”
“What’s going on? Where are you?” My father’s voice is filled with worry and impatience. That’s my fault though. I told him I’d call him an hour ago.
“I’m still on the road,” I tell him.
“The road to where?”
“Home, Dad,” I sigh.
He says nothing, as though he’s afraid I’ve changed course somewhere along the way. As though he’s unsure of which place I consider home these days.
But I’m done running.
For his benefit I confirm, “I’m coming back to Cliff Haven.”
“Good.” He grunts, but I know my dad and this tone signals relief. His brusqueness indicates that he’s satisfied with my response. “Be safe, okay? I just want you here in one piece.” He pauses then asks, quieter this time, “How are you doing?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. At least, I will be.” I’m not sure I believe the words that leave my mouth.
I want to believe them.
“I got a hold of Steve. He wants you to call him, but he’s agreed to give you your job back and a place to stay. He said you can take the loft space above the tavern until you get back on your feet.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
My chest caves with relief but the heavy weight inside of it remains. Steve’s graciousness crushes me with guilt. He’s giving me a second chance I know I don’t deserve.
“I’ll see you when you get here.” Dad sounds tired. I hate thinking about what I’ve put him through these last six months.
Of what I’ve put everyone through.
“Okay.” I wince, preparing myself for what I’m about to ask him. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”
“No, son,” my father says, a hint of sadness within his tone. “But I think you need to.”
“I know,” I say, running my palm along the back of my neck. There’s a knot in the muscle, made worse from travelling in the car. I know he’s right. There are a lot of things I need to do, none of them easy. “I will. When the time is right.”
He grunts again. “Drive safe.”
“See you soon,” I say, before I hang up the call.
I open the door to my truck, tossing the chips and chocolates on the dash before collapsing into the driver’s seat. I throw my head back on the head rest, squeezing my tired eyes shut briefly.
These past six months have been gruelling. There’s nothing I want more than to be back in Cliff Haven.
I’ve missed the cottage on the creek I once called home, my morning surfs in Little Bay. I’ve missed cold beers at the tavern and hot mochaccinos at the Haven.
And I miss her.
More than anything, I’ve missed her.
But I’m not an idiot. As much as I long for the familiar I’m aware that the town I left behind a little more than six months ago isn’t going to welcome me back with open arms.
I know for sure that Kristen won’t.
Still, that place is my home. It will always be home.
The clink of my keys in the ignition echoes in the quiet stillness of the night as I start the car and pull back out onto the highway.