“Dean, I dropped the ball on D.J., but hopefully, he takes this second chance. Like you did. Like we did.”
She’d tried to run away from her memories of him. Because it hurt. Running hadn’t been the answer. It hurt then, too.
With time, she hoped it would hurt less. In time, maybe she’d be able to smile when she thought of their life together. She tested it out.
“Remember that time Austin barfed all over the new white carpet?”
J.J. vowed to get braver with her memories. She’d open old albums and think of beautiful moments, too, in time.
Right now, even the silly memories brought a flood of tears welling up in her eyes.
She pulled the flannel around her, and she let the tears come.
ChapterTwenty-Five
June
Stone
She wanted to fly commercial.
“Dad, a private jet is wasteful. And I don’t need it.” Somehow, Averil Stone had become the opposite of a brat. He could only say it was her mother and her stepdad because Stone had barely been an influence.
He tried to send his private plane to pick her up and bring her here. But she refused. She said she wanted to ask something, to request something in person. Stone's answer was yes, how high, and is it too late?
Avvie also refused his offer to pick her up at the airport. Their relationship was tentative. Polite. But no question it was distant. He was doing what he could to change that. But that also meant not insisting on taking care of everything.
J.J. was teaching him how to let things happen between people. Patience.
“Stone, the way we continue to progress is just time spent. You're going to have to spend time with your daughter. And the rest will come.” J.J. was talking about Avvie but also the two of them. He’d learned he found joy in just being in Irish Hills. He found a better version of himself, being a part of their plans instead of the boss. He could help when he saw the need but also had space to watch people decide what they wanted. And they made it happen.
J.J. continued to let him spend time with her as they interviewed managers for the salon and as he consulted with her on the renovations Tucker Construction would oversee for the Dance Hall that Goldie and Stone Stirling Foundation were funding. Goldie wanted to turn it into a venue again for concerts, weddings, and her film festival idea. He was writing the checks and gleefully working with J.J. as she managed the construction aspect with her sons. The day-in and day-out ebb and flow in one community deepened his relationships with the people in his life.
He also needed to find a way to be a part of his daughter’s life. But she was about to start her medical residency. She was an adult. She was obviously independent. Well, at least maybe she’d see the charm of Irish Hills and visit once a year. His place on Lake Manitou was huge and had plenty of space for her. Heck, it had an embarrassing amount of space. Funny how he never used to think about filling rooms before. When J.J. showed up with the Sandbar Sisters and their picture of whatever J.J. had concocted, he was the happiest he'd ever been.
He'd used her recipe for green juice, aka, a margarita lime, and had it all set up for Avvie’s arrival.
He sat on the back deck and watched the water. A pontoon floated by, and then a speed boat with a skier. Keith Brady told him he’d need to learn to ski if he was going to keep up in the summer with this crew. He was looking forward to the lesson.
“Dad?”
He heard her call and turned to see Avvie, tall and beautiful, standing on the steps to the back deck.
“Honey, you made it!” He walked over and hugged her. She seemed surprised. She hugged him back, but it was reserved. They were strangers, really.
“This is so pretty. I can see why you have made this your home base.”
“Yes, I think it’s a hidden little pocket of the country. I almost ruined it. But the people here set me straight. After a bit. Destroyed me a few times, actually.”
“I have a hard time believing that.”
“Let me take your bag.”
“Don’t you have, uh, someone for that?”
“No, I admit, I have a housekeeper and, of course, a couple of assistants for the business, but no butler these days.”
“Wow, other people get red corvettes for their mid-life crisis, and you got, well, you got less douchy. Congrats.”
