Aidan ducked his head, poking at his chocolate donut. “My parents knew how to give you a real life. One filled with love. The kind of life you deserved. You looked so much happier without me. I didn’t think you wanted me there. But it never stopped me from showing up.”
Brock attempted to clear his throat, but the knot of emotion threatening to suffocate him didn’t go away. He grabbed Aidan’s hand. “I always wanted you there, Dad.”
When his father looked up, the tears were no longer hidden. They slid down his cheeks, past the faint wrinkles, past the laugh lines of all the years he never saw. “Can you forgive me? Your mother may not have wanted you, but I always did.”
Forgiveness was never easy.
Some things were more difficult to let go of than others. Grudges were formed in disappointed hearts, resentment expanded through years of neglect. The ability to forgive required understanding, a willingness to release past wrongs, and being able to reconcile and overcome. Yet now, Aidan was the only family Brock had left, which meant if there was any hope, any chance of them rebuilding a relationship together, it was now.
“Yeah, Dad.” He offered the smallest of smiles. One step toward change. “I can forgive you.”
They stood up from the table, and for the first time in years, Brock hugged his father. He locked eyes with Miss Bobbiebehind the counter, watching as she pulled a tissue from her pocket, and blew her nose.
After another round of hot coffee and chocolate-frosted donuts on the house, Brock and his father spent the rest of the time catching up on missed years.
“It looks like you and Juliette have made up,” his father ventured, eyeing him carefully over the rim of his coffee mug.
“For now,” Brock agreed. Her words, he reminded himself.
“Why’d the two of you break up, anyway?”
“Georgina Laurent.” Brock broke off a piece of his apple crisp muffin and popped it into his mouth. “She told me I wouldn’t ever be good enough for her daughter. She told me when I went to boot camp to cut off all ties with Juliette. To sever the relationship completely. So I did.”
Aidan reared back. “Why? Why would she think you’re not good enough?”
“Who knows?” Brock didn’t like to think about how easily she’d convinced him. “I was young and stupid. It was a mistake.”
All those years, he stayed away on purpose because he thought he was doing the right thing. He couldn’t even count the number of times Juliette had occupied his thoughts, and he’d forced her from his mind, reminded himself, convinced himself he’d made the right decision. He blocked her from his memory. Erased her from his life. Because the last thing he wanted to do was imagine her after he left.
Not that he intended to inflate his ego, but he knew what they had together. He knew how much it hurt him and she must have been crushed. Devastated. Left to pick up the pieces of her broken heart alone.
“Well.” Aidan took a drink of coffee and set it down slowly, like he was collecting his thoughts. “Now’s the time to fix it.”
Yeah. There was a lot he needed to fix.
Brock and his father went over the more difficult details of Yaya’s passing. She didn’t want anything fancy and refused to have anyone making a big fuss over her. She’d been very clear on that much for years. In fact, the one thing Brock could recall without even looking at her will was that she wanted a simple graveside service and then a celebration of life with a bonfire on the beach. Both of which could be easily arranged. Except he didn’t want to do it. At least, he didn’t want to do all of it on his own. Because then it would be real, and she would be gone forever.
“Hey—” Brock hesitated on how to address his father. Calling him Aidan seemed too formal. “Would you want to help me plan things? For Yaya?”
A shadow of his father’s former winning smile emerged. “Yeah, that would be great, actually. Does she still want that crazy bonfire beach party?”
Brock grinned. “Yeah, she does. We’ll have to make it a big one, though, given the current temperature outside.”
“All the more reason for her to love it,” Aidan murmured.
“Okay. I’ll make some calls.” Brock drummed his fingers on the edge of the table, willing away the anxiety clenching his gut. “Maybe set up a small viewing and then the graveside service.”
The words scalded his throat.
“That’s a good idea.” His father sat back and broke a muffin in half. “I’ll drive over and get the permit for the bonfire from the sheriff’s office. Hell, maybe we should just invite the whole town.”
“To the bonfire?” Brock asked, bewildered.
“Why not? Everyone loved Yaya.” A fondness filled Aidan’s eyes. “And Yaya loved everyone.”
“That she did.” He could’ve sworn his grandmother knew everyone by name, so it made sense to invite literally everyone. Not that they would all show up, but at least it was a kindgesture. “Alright, that settles it then. I’ll take care of the viewing and service.”
Aidan nodded once. “And I’ll make sure the bonfire is ready to go.”
