He swallowed against the sudden pressure in his throat.
“Estella and I had already booked a big house in the Hamptons. Paid for it. The whole thing.” Rad exhaled slowly. “I had to quietly cancel it. Her kids went to stay with her parents.”
“Oh, Rad.” June’s eyes widened and filled at once with that open, unguarded compassion that always seemed to come so naturally to her. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” Rad managed a faint smile that didn’t feel much like one. “The hardest part was introducing the first woman I’d fallen for after the divorce to my family at her funeral.”
Silence settled between them for a few seconds, but it was not an awkward silence. It was the kind that came when the other person knew enough not to fill grief with useless words.
Rad glanced at June and caught the shine of tears in her eyes. He felt that strange pull again, that old, impossible wish he had carried in one form or another since childhood. When he had first met June, it had struck him how much he had always wanted a mother like her. And if she and his father had stayed married, she could have been.
“So, you and my father…” Rad began, letting the words trail just enough to invite rather than pry.
June’s brows rose. “I thought he spoke to you about this.”
“He did,” Rad admitted. “But I’d like to hear your version too.”
June’s expression shifted. Not defensive, exactly, but thoughtful.
“Your father and I married very young,” June replied. “We were married for four years. Then, when we finished graduate school, it became painfully obvious that we were moving in different directions.”
Rad glanced at her.
“That’s nearly exactly what my father said.” A small snort escaped him. “Did the two of you rehearse this?”
A soft laugh slipped from her. “No. Not at all. It’s simply what happened.”
“How does it feel to be working with him again?” Rad smiled despite himself and turned onto the road leading toward the lighthouse.
June leaned back in her seat, looking out at the passing houses.
“Strange in some ways. Natural in others. I suppose we both needed this more than either of us realized.” She turned and smiled at him before adding, “We hadn’t seen each other in roughly thirty-eight years.”
Rad looked sharply at the road ahead, though for some reason that number lodged itself at once in his mind.
“So you really never talked at all in all those years?” Rad asked. “Not once?”
“We hadn’t seen each other or spoken to each other since then,” June said. “Not directly. But Mina, your grandmother, and I kept in touch over the years. She was always very kind to me. Then, when Willa, Shaun, and the children moved to SandpiperShores, I started seeing your great-uncle Abe again during my visits.” She smiled faintly. “I would usually come down once a year.”
“But not my dad.” Rad glanced over at her again.
“No.” June shook her head. “Your father and I were never in Sandpiper Shores at the same time. Not until now.”
“That must have been such a shock.” Rad grinned. “For both of you, I bet.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “It was. Rather embarrassingly, I passed out.” Her smile softened. “And I am glad we’re both here together this time. We’ve become friends again.”
Rad believed her. There was warmth in her voice when she spoke about his father, but there was also steadiness. Whatever else lay under the surface, they were finding their way back to something solid.
“And it is good working with him, too,” June continued. “Back in college, when he was in his criminal justice and federal law enforcement courses, Holt used to talk through case studies and investigative exercises with me. Sometimes I would help him test theories or argue the other side of a scenario when he was preparing for class or practical assessments.”
Rad smiled. “That sounds more realistic than the story he would probably tell.”
June’s laugh was quieter this time, but real. “Your father always did enjoy sounding more mysterious than he was.”
He pictured his father in his twenties, serious and brilliant and just a little too sure of himself, and he could not help laughing softly.
“We worked well together even back then,” June said. “We approached things differently, but the differences fit. He would spot what action needed to be taken. I would question why the action made sense or what detail had been overlooked. We sharpened each other.”
