Gwen glanced at me with soft eyes, like she could see the insult through the jokey tone. “I’d be happy to give you some.”
I nodded and refocused on my laptop. “Thanks.”
“What doyoulike to do when you’re not running an empire?” Gwen asked my father.
“Oh, I’m plenty busy with my charities my wife used to volunteer with. I’m doing my best to carry on her legacy. I regret that I wasn’t able to be more involved with them while she was still with us.” He paused and stared into the distance. “I have quite a few regrets, actually. So many trips not taken. So many important events, missed.” He sighed. “The curse of hindsight.”
It was a rare moment of candor, and with the way he was watching me, I had a feeling it was for my benefit.
“I was lucky enough to visit the puppy wing named for Alicia at the shelter,” Gwen expertly maneuvered out of the confessional space.
Perfect, because I didn’t want to hear it. My father had made choices, and now he had to live with them.
Oliver nodded. “She loved dogs. Always wanted one. This guy too,” he pointed at me. “The two of them used to tag team me, trying to get me to cave and let them have one.”
“Why didn’t you?” Gwen asked.
I stopped working to watch my father’s face as he answered, wondering how honest he’d be.
“We came close once,” he said. “Our gardener’s dog had an accidental litter before they were able to get her spayed, and he brought the two puppies over one afternoon, so the boys could see them. Well, let me tell you, I don’t know who begged harder, this one or his mother.”
He chuckled at what was a painful memory for me. I still remember my mom going to bat for me—for us, really, because it had been obvious that she wanted the sweet little pup too. My mom and I were usually of the same mind on things.
“What happened?” Gwen wondered.
“They were going to be big dogs,” my dad continued. “The mom was a hound, and the dad was some sort of collie. Big and busy, and our lifestyle didn’t really allow for that sort of upheaval. I mean, it’s not like you can load up a seventy-pound dog when you head to ski in Gstaad, am I right? And our daily life was crazy too. Alicia with her committees and events, and the boys had sports.”
“You could’ve hired a dog walker,” Gwen pointed out.
I loved that she wasn’t afraid to push him. Anyone else would’ve been bowled over in the presence of the primary Ashford.
“Too much hassle,” he answered. “We were more nimble without dogs. And hey, this guy could adopt a house full of them, and he still hasn’t, so I guess my decision was solid. Right, Harrison?”
I refused to give him the pleasure of agreeing. “I get my fix at the shelter.”
“Tell me about your parents, Gwen,” Oliver said. He’d spread out in his seat like we were guests onhisjet.
“Well, my dad played professional baseball, and now he owns a baseball-themed restaurant.”
“Professional baseball? And you said your name was Gwen Ackland? Oh my, would that mean your father isDaleAckland?”
“Yeah, that’s Dad,” she said lightly, but when I looked up from my laptop, I saw a tense expression on her face, like she was bracing herself for what my father might say next.
“How’s he doing these days?” Dad asked, his voice surprisingly gentle. “If I remember right, he had some…rough years after he left baseball.”
What was Dad talking about? I made a note to myself to look Dale Ackland up later.
“He’s good now,” Gwen said, her smile turning warmer. “Really good.” She held up her phone. “I actually just got a text from him before we took off this morning, bragging about guessing today’s Wordle on the first try. We talk pretty much every day.”
“Oh,” Dad said, sounding…strange. Almost wistful. “That sounds really nice.”
A father who was close to his kid? Yeah, thatdidsound nice. Too bad that wasn’t the Ashford way.
16
GWEN
I’d never been to a meeting like this one.
