"Not well."
"Everybody on the island knows the Abernathys disowned Jason. But nobody is willing to say why. Do you know why?"
Salty leans back in his chair. "I have my ideas. But they're only ideas, so I'd rather not say."
I nod. "I have a meeting with Jason and the estate lawyer in an hour. Jason wasn't named in the Abernathys’ will, so he has no claim on the estate or Posey. But I can't help but think he's planning a custody suit. The thought of losing her guts me."
Salty nods a second time. He's not one for speculative gossip.
"I see you brought your guitar," Salty says, changing the subject. His gaze turns to the guitar case I've placed against the wall. "Off to some kind of impromptu concert after that?"
"No," I say. "Ever since I was a kid, I've always taken my guitar with me. I never know when I'm going to feel compelled to create a new melody. Or write a new song." I take my brown leather notebook from my shoulder bag and slap it on the table for emphasis.
"Songwriting doesn't come on schedule. You can't plan a hit song. It has to hit you like a lightning bolt."
"I like the poetry in that," says Salty. We both laugh, lightening the mood.
"I've heard your music, son," he says, more seriously. "I'm not keen on rock and roll myself, never have been, even when I was young. But I've heard your songs. I like them."
"Thanks." I take a deep breath. So far, I've only shared my thoughts with Edison.Can Salty be trusted?
I decide to go for it.
"Sterling Records wants me to sign another contract. They're the ones who found me, signed me back in the day. But they want me to produce the same type of music I've been making for the last twenty years."
The statement hangs in the air.
"But I want to write something real now. Something that matters."
"What's stopping you?"
"Money. Contracts. Fear of losing everything I've built." I gesture toward the marina. "My stepdad Paul used to tell me that staying true to yourself was the only thing that mattered."
Salty follows my gaze to the boats bobbing in the harbor. "Your stepdad sounds like a wise man."
"He was. And in the same way, I want Posey to think of me as a man she can be proud of."
As I think of Posey, an image of Tara comes into my mind.Yes. And Tara too.
"I want her to think of me as a man who's not just successful, but authentic. Like Paul was to me."
Salty looks me straight in the eye. "What if being fake means losing yourself? And what kind of father would you be then?"
The question cuts deep because I already know the answer.And it terrifies me.
CHAPTER 25
TARA
“Where's Daddy Cameron?" asks Posey, looking up and down Main Street. "It seems as if we've been walking forever."
"Are you tired? We can go home and have lunch now."
Posey considers this. "I enjoy showing off my new clothes. I can't wait for Daddy Cameron and Edison to see me."
"Me too." I'm as excited as Posey for Cameron to see her in her new jeans, looking like any other carefree four-year-old instead of a porcelain doll.
"I'd like to keep walking. But what about our car?"
