I watched her as she spoke, sensing the emotion flickering in her eyes. “I’m the first to say,” she continued, “I think everybody has to stumble their way through things like this. I was so angry with my father for a long time. I still am in some ways. Things could have gone very differently. I honestly wish, in hindsight, I’d had at least a less stilted connection with him at the end. But I didn’t, and I can’t change that because he’s gone now.” She exhaled. “I’ve known people who find peace without reconnecting, and others who find peace by building a bridge, even when it’s a messy situation. But no matter what, there’s a clock ticking, so you kind of have to face what choice you feel you need to make.”
“I know,” I said gruffly.
I pulled her into a hug, holding her close. Because no matter what was coming next, I didn’t want to let her go either.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Tori
I needed to tell Kincaid I was pregnant. After my initial burst of confidence—an unexpected certainty that I wanted to have a baby—I started to doubt myself with questions ping-ponging around my brain for hours on end. All the while, a clock was ticking.
In the muddle of it all, I went to see my doctor. “How far along do you think I am?” I asked.
She tipped her head to the side, her gaze studying me for a beat. “Just over eight weeks. You caught it early because you missed your period.”
“I know. If I didn’t have such a regular cycle, I probably wouldn’t have even taken a pregnancy test.” I took a shaky breath.
“Do you know what you want to do?” she asked gently.
“I don’t.” I paused before I added quietly, “Actually, I think I do.”
“Do you know who the father is?”
There wasn’t even an ounce of judgment in her voice, which was the only reason I could answer with my heart jammed up in my throat. “Uh-huh. I need to tell him.”
The words for how I’d tell Kincaid tumbled through my thoughts all the next day. I needed to talk to him. And yet, this whole situation was dragging all my trust issues up to the surface. It felt like I had hundreds of emotional alarms sounding in this situation.
“Kincaid’s a good man,” I murmured to myself as I drove to work that evening.
“Yeah? And you thought your dad was a good man, too. Look how that worked out.”
Good grief, I was to the point of two-way conversations with myself.
And yet, when it came to believing in my dad, it certainly hadn’t just been me. Most of the town had considered him beyond reproach—a family man, loyal, reliable, the kind of guy you called when you needed help for anything from an actual emergency to shoveling your steps in a pinch.
I shook my head, blinking back the tears stinging my eyes. At least, I was still relieved I’d gotten up the nerve to talk to Shelly. I wouldn’t say I had laid it all to rest. I didn’t believe that’s how things like that worked. Closure? Not a thing. You couldn’t undo things.
There were different kinds of grief. When all was said and done, you had to live with the past, all of it. That was the getting-over part—learning how to keep moving and carry any scars from life with grace.
Though my father hadn’t passed away until years after he’d detonated my trust, I’d still had to grieve him. I’d grieved the idea of him, the man I thought he was. I’d had to live with the betrayal I never saw coming. Those scars had healed over, but they were carved on my heart. My trust issues felt insurmountable sometimes.
“But Kincaid’s a good man,” I repeated to myself.
I took a deep breath and shook my head firmly. I needed to work. While it wasn’t my goal to be a waitress forever, I actually enjoyed it. Plus, the pay was pretty good, especially now that tourist season was heating up.
Once I arrived at Fireweed Winery, I could mostly forget about Kincaid and the fact that I was pregnant. I was leaning toward keeping the baby, and yet, I hadn’t spoken to anyone about this except my doctor.
Tish was floating around the restaurant tonight. As my shift was winding down, I spotted her at the table in the break room with David, who lived in Fireweed Harbor but seemed to spend most of his time here in Willow Brook these days. “What are you two doing now?” I teased lightly as I stopped beside them.
David grinned. “Specials. Can’t get enough of them, you know?”
“No,” I replied with a little eye-roll.
“Have you tried that mixed berry mead?” Tish asked, waggling her eyebrows.
I shook my head. “Not yet.”
“You should have some now,” she said.
