“His father was Sean Hale.”
Again, silence on the other end. I’d stumped her twice on one phone call.
“Mom, I didn’t know until recently. Grady moved to Willet Cove to start over after his father was arrested and convicted. He didn’t want the stigma that the association brings.”
“Well, I can’t blame him for that. It’s perfectly understandable.”
And now it was me stunned into silence.
“Poor man,” Mom said. “How awful for him. I’m assuming he didn’t know?”
“No, neither he nor his sister had any idea, which is another part that he feels guilty about.”
“Of course. He’s probably thinking he should have seen the signs.”
I let out a sigh of relief. She understood. It was a miracle. “That’s right. He gave up a good job in the film industry, sold everything he owned and bought the surf shop and cottage. But he’s set up a foundation to help victims of assault. He’s helped a lot of women.”
“I hope he’s not going to give all his money away. If he’s going to marry you, he has to keep that money for his own family.”
There she was.
“He’ll take good care of us,” I said. “He’s a really good person, Mom. And I love him.”
“Well, this was not the conversation I thought we’d have, but, I have to say, I’m pleased.”
“Thanks, Mom. I appreciate it.”
“Your father and I … we want to be part of your life. We want to see the kids.”
“Come visit,” I said, already dreading it.
“Maybe we’ll come for the wedding. Will you marry at your church?”
“I’m not sure what we’ll do,” I said. “We haven’t gotten that far.”
“You have to have a wedding. It’s important for the children.”
“We’ll see,” I said, evasively. “Listen, Mom, I have to go. The kids and Grady are waiting for me. We’re out to dinner.”
“Yes, all right. Call me tomorrow and we can decide on dates for us to come visit.”
“Okay.”
“I really hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I do. I really, truly do.”
We hung up, and I was about to go back inside when my phone buzzed again. Not my mother this time. Jeff.
Jeff
Hey. Moving to Austin. Got a buddy with a startup that's going to be huge. Probably won't be reachable for a while. Tell the kids I said hey.
I stared at the message. Tell the kids I said hey. Not I love them. Not how's Madison's arm? Not I'm sorry I haven't called. Just tell the kids I said hey, as if they were acquaintances he'd bumped into once and vaguely remembered.
Three months ago, that text would have wrecked me. Tonight, standing outside a restaurant where a man who wasn't their father was inside making my daughter laugh and helping my son calculate the tip, it barely registered.
Esme
