His shoulders sagged in relief, and his eyes grew shiny. “I’d like to read them.”
She gave up a slight smile. “I suppose that could be arranged.”
He stepped forward to wrap his arms around her in a hug. It was awkward and still somehow perfect. When he finally released her, his voice shifted. “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive your mother.”
Scout stiffened. “We agreed we wouldn’t discuss Mother.”
Naturally, he went on. “Try to see it from her side.”
Scout let out a short laugh. What other side was there? Everything always revolved around Mother’s point of view.
“When she’s afraid of losing someone, she holds on too tight. She did it with me. She’s done it with you.”
“She smothers. Suffocates. Sucks the oxygen out of the room.”
He gave a dry chuckle. “Fair. But she clings because of fear. She knew that if you had a choice back then, you’d have picked me.”
That was absolutely true.
“Losing you terrified her. So she did what she knew how to do—she held on. Too tight, I know. But she was trying to keep you.”
Scout had never pictured her mother as afraid. Demanding? Sure. Overbearing? Always. But afraid? Still, something in her dad’s voice tugged at her. Her mother’s life did seem a little ...sad. A husband who chose distance over devotion. A daughter who followed in her father’s footsteps.
“Still, she threw out your letters. She let me think you stopped carin’ that you even had a daughter.”
“I know. And I hate that she did that. I hate myself for letting it happen. But honey, your mother was there for you. Every day. Every event. Every time you needed someone.”
Honestly, that was also true. Her mother had provided a stable home for her, something her father wouldn’t have done.
But still—those letters. That silence.
“I just wish ... I’d been given a choice.”
“Well, honey, now you have one.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Just one more thing.”
She glanced over at the line of tourists waiting by the gangplank. “Dad, I really,reallyneed to go. I’m on duty.”
“Chase Fletcher isn’t husband material.”
Scout blinked, taken completely off guard. “What?”
“Your mother’s on a campaign,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement. “Don’t let her talk you into it.”
“Trust me, I’ve had plenty of practice not conformin’ to what Mother wants.” She squinted. “But why do you say that?”
“Don’t get me wrong. He’s a sharp guy.” He pointed to his head. “But the thing is, Chase Fletcher is ... well, he’s just like me. My shipwrecks are his newspaper. That paper will always, always come first.” He looked her in the eye. “You know what kind of life that would be for you.”
She was stunned. This was so unexpected, so father-like. Heavens, how she had missed him. She put her hands on his upper arms and squeezed. “I’ll take your advice under consideration.” But she’d already figured that out about Chase.
He grinned. “Now Naki...” He let the name hang in the air for a moment, his smile knowing.
“Gotta go to work!” Scout turned on her heel and headed down the pier to the Baker Island tour boat.
Chase remained on the bench long after Scout had left for work, knowing he should get to the office and start updating the shipwreck story. But he couldn’t seem to make himself budge. He was still trying to get his head around how the talk with Scout had slipped off the rails.
He’d really thought he’d smoothed things out, that she’d forgiven him. That she understood. And when she laughed about her mother, he was sure they were in sync again. After all, he’d told her he thought she was the one and she hadn’t bolted.
But then she gently pulled her hands out of his. “A week ago, I might’ve thought so too,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “I admire how much you care about your newspaper. I admire that you work so hard. I think ... those qualities reminded me of my dad. I’ve always adored him, even when I felt hurt by his absence. But seein’ him these last few days reminded me of some other qualities he has. Ones you share.”
