“Oh, that’s…” I like that she’s given us breathing room. “That’s nice. I didn’t know you came here.”
“Sometimes.” His knees crack as he sits down, and he groans. “I update her on things. Here, you should drink.” He hands me his water bottle. “What?”
“Nothing.” I school my surprise and take a hearty chug of the ice-cold water. How did I walk out the door and go down this trail without the essentials? “Just, I didn’t think you…um—”
“Cared?”
Hearing the phrase out loud, I know it’s wrong. Of course, he cared about my mom. It’s naive of me to assume that just because they didn’t live a fairytale marriage, he doesn’t care.
“Sorry.” I hug my knees to my chest, sheepish.
“I owe you an apology, too. We shouldn’t have asked to have the wedding at The Mirage. That place means the world to you, and we got carried away with the idea of a wedding there. It really sounded like a good idea at the time, but your boyfriend gave me a stern talking-to the other night, and he’s right. I should never have put you in that position.”
So that’s what their private conversation at Sal’s must have been. I set the water bottle between us and fake a cough to cover for my eyes burning. “Max isn’t my boyfriend.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” My dad fidgets, tucking a leg under his other knee. “Oona’s not trying to erase the past. She wants to celebrate it.”
“I know. I like her. I do. She’s a good match for you, and I want you to be happy, so I’m glad she’s that for you.” The confession spills out. “But…I get frustrated thinking about how you can magically become this incredible partner to someone new. That’s not Oona’s fault. Maybe it seems like I’ve been taking thatout on her, but really, I want to take it out on you.” Admitting all this feels like popping a festering blister, and I keep going for the relief every word grants me. “The whole time you and Mom were married, you resented her for bringing you out here. And now that you’re marrying Oona, you wanna live here and be some doting husband, and I don’t understand why you couldn’t be that for Mom.”
“I didn’t resent your mother,” he says, a mix of genuine hurt and shock on his face.
“You—” I stammer over my words, because I’m doubting my memories. “You fought all the time once we moved here.”
“We fought all the time before we moved here, too. You were just too young to remember.”
“Then why stay married?”
He sighs and leans back onto his hands, staring up at the leaves of the tree. “We loved each other. And we wanted to be the parents you wanted—the people who you saw when things were good. We wanted that for you, and we did try. We were good friends, but maybe not the best lovers. It had nothing to do with being here, though.”
I process this revelation, drawing eerie parallels to my relationship with Max. “Do you think…” My eyes flash to my dad. “Is there any way it could have worked out between you two? Or was it always doomed from the start?”
He chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Doomed’s pretty dramatic.”
“You know what I mean.”
“We were stubborn. Honestly, after my contract ended, I thought she and I might come out here and retire early. We had the money stashed away for it, but she had other plans. I wanted to relax, enjoy. She wanted to work, have her own thing. Neither of us would budge on our vision. Looking back now, I—” His voice catches, and his eyes shimmer against the golden raysof sun. “I wouldn’t have been so proud. I would have given up more. It’s so good to have someone worth giving it all up for.” He pats me on the knee. “And The Mirage—I know you love it, but it occupied her time like crazy. Twenty-five hours a day. I hate to see that happening to you.”
“It’s not bad.” I look out again at the horizon as the stillness of dusk covers the land. “I mean, yeah, it’s a lot sometimes.”
“If you need a hand, I’m here. You should feel like anything’s possible, not like you’re locked in to do this forever. I’d do anything to help you, if you’d let me. Your mom always wanted to do it on her own, to have it be her thing.”
I make ahmsound at the irony. “Sounds familiar.”
“Think about it, okay? And she might not be your favorite person, but Oona’s very organized. She’s a good one.”
“I know.” I give him a small smile and a hug in thanks. What would it be like to lean on him with The Mirage? I’ve spent the past two years micromanaging every aspect of the place in hopes Mom wouldn’t be forgotten, but it’s not only me who has memories there. It belongs to Harlow just as much as it does to me.
Dad sighs again, this time deeper, and his cheeks are wet. I look up at the sky where stars have appeared against the watercolor backdrop. We sit there until the sun sets completely, letting the breeze dry our faces.
Chapter Forty-Five
Max, 24 Years Old
I found the quietest corner of the airport lounge and pulled out my cell. Over the past six years, my hand floated over Daisy’s contact a million times. She may have to do things on her own time, but I had to call her now. My teeth chattered with nerves as the phone rang. The voicemail service kicked in, and I groaned in frustration.
“Hey, it’s Daisy. You know what to do.”
Hearing her talk, even from a recording, stole my breath. I missed her voice.
