SUMMER
Iwas the last to arrive at lunch, which was entirely my fault. I’d lost track of time between lessons and had to change in the truck, which was a skill I’d perfected over years of coastal living but still required more time than I budgeted for. I didn’t get the chance to put on any makeup and had twisted my hair up instead of trying to brush through the salty crust that formed on the curls.
I spotted them through the window before I even reached the door. Dad was laughing. A real laugh that I rarely saw. The woman across from him had her hand over her mouth and was clearly the cause of it. She was maybe sixty, with silver-streaked dark hair cut to her shoulders and reading glasses pushed up on her head like a headband. She was wearing a soft blue blouse and was leaning toward my father like she’d been doing it for years.
I stood on the sidewalk for just a moment, taken aback by the scene. It wasn’t bad. It was justnew. He looked good. He looked ten years younger. A strange feeling washed over me. It was a complicated little tangle of happiness and something that wasn’t quite sadness but very close to it. Mom had been gone ten years. We knew he loved her and would always love her, but it was time for him to find someone to ride out the golden years with. I wasfine with this. Encouraged it even, which was why I was having lunch with them today.
I pushed the door open and walked in, prepared to be a charming daughter.
“There she is,” Dad said. He stood and gave me a quick hug.
“Sorry I’m late,” I said.
“You’re not late,” he said. “Summer, this is Sheryl.”
Sheryl stood and extended her hand. She had a firm handshake and warm eyes. My first impression was good. She was friendly without trying too hard. “I’ve heard so much about you,” she said. “The surfer.”
“The surfer,” I agreed, shaking her hand. “And you’re the marine biologist.”
Her face lit up. “Retired marine biologist. Mostly I was writing grants and attending conferences.”
“She’s being modest,” Dad said as we settled back into our seats. “She spent twelve years in the field. Actual field work. Coral restoration off the Florida Keys.”
“That’s incredible,” I said, and I meant it.
She waved it off but she was pleased. “I heard you’ve been doing some real work protecting this coastline recently. The protest.”
“A lot of people did that work,” I said. “I just showed up.”
She nodded. “I understand the protest was effective.”
“It was.”
We ordered and we fell into easy conversation. Sheryl asked me questions about teaching surf lessons. She knew the coastline and the water and was actually very pleasant. I didn’t feel like I was betraying Mom by liking Sheryl. Mom would have liked her. Dad kept looking at her when she talked. Small, quiet glances.
By the time the plates were cleared I was genuinely glad I’d come. Sheryl excused herself to find the restroom and it was just me and Dad for a moment, which I suspected was intentional.
“She’s wonderful,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said. “She is.”
“I like her.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
We said our goodbyes out front. Sheryl hugged me, which surprised me. “I hope to see you again.”
“We’ll have to have dinner soon,” I said.
Dad kissed the top of my head the way he had since I was four years old, and they walked toward his truck together. I watched them for just a moment. She said something that had him tilting his head toward her. I could see his shoulders moving with a laugh even from twenty feet away. He was happy. They both were. That’s all one could ask for.
The parking lot was small and shared between the restaurant and two other businesses. I was cutting between a pickup and a large black SUV when I heard someone shouting.
“I don’t care what it costs, find me a workaround. That’s what I pay you for.” A pause. “I’m not interested in your opinion on what’s possible. I’m interested in solutions. Get me something on the covenants by Friday or find yourself another client.” Another pause, longer this time. “And Anderson. I want everything on Anderson. Every deal he’s walked away from, every contract dispute, every ex-girlfriend with a grudge. I want the whole fucking picture.”
Judd Mathers was sitting behind the wheel of his fancy car, a phone pressed to his ear as he slapped the steering wheel. He was one pissed off man and that almost made me laugh. I kept on walking.
“What are you looking at?”
