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I make my way into the kitchen and pour myself a cup of black coffee before I go searching for Dad. Not that it’s a long search. He’s right where Mom said he’d be—on the porch. Their house sits on top of a hill in Kennebunkport, Maine. It’s not huge, but the view... You can’t beat it. The ocean waves beat against the shore below. The boats dock in the distance, and the salt air reminds you you’re alive. Pretty sure it’s Dad’s favorite thing in the world, after Mom, Bellamy, and the grandkids. Cross and I tie for last, but I’m okay with that.
“Hey, old man.” I walk through the squeaky screen door and sit down in the rocker next to his. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, you idiot. You didn’t need to come all the way up here to check on me.” He watches me sit and drinks his coffee. “Unless you had a different reason for coming. Saw the scotch onthe counter, kid. And a man doesn’t drink like that by himself if it ain’t about a woman.”
I look away and drink my coffee quietly.
But Dad’s move is usually to wait us out.
Mom can’t stand the not talking.
Dad doesn’t give a shit. He’s in no rush.
“Might have been a little of both,” I finally tell him as I watch a fishing boat pulling into the harbor. “But can we not tell Mom?”
“I don’t know anything,” he agrees. “Now what’s brought you up here, Ares?”
This time, I do turn and look at him. “Seriously, old man. You had open heart surgery yesterday. Do I need a better reason?”
“And I always thought Bellamy was the drama queen. Jesus Christ, kid. It wasn’t open heart surgery. They went through a vein and cleaned out a stent. I’m fine. Now, what’s your real reason?”
“Fine, you old fucker. It’s a girl.”
Dad smiles and puts his coffee cup down. “Now we’re getting to the real reason. Who’s the girl?”
“Don’t bother asking. I’m not telling,” I grumble.
“So, it’s a girl we know. Son, you better not be messing around with the girl Bellamy brought home with her when school let out last May. I did some digging after she stayed here. Do you know who her father is?”
“Caitlin?”
Dad nods, and I fucking laugh. “She and Bellamy have been sharing a room at my place while they look for a place of their own. And no, it’s not Caitlin.”
“Is it one of those girls your brother’s wife is friends with? They’re all pretty. That one is going to be a doctor. You could do worse, Ares.” He’s fucking serious. What the fuck? This is why I don’t talk about women with my dad.
“Jesus, Dad. It’s none of them, okay?” I stand up and lean against the wooden porch railing, then turn back to face him and cross my ankles. “If you repeat this, I’ll never tell you another thing as long as I live, Pop.”
His eyes light up like a gossipy girl, and I want to laugh, but it would just piss him off.
“I’ve been seeing Grace.”
“Grace who?” he asks, and he’s dead serious.
“What do you mean, Grace who? Everly’s twin sister, Grace.”
His face twists like he needs to piece together what I’m saying. “The ballerina?”
“Yeah. The ballerina. We started talking last year, and things got serious after the season.” Well, that’s the short version of the long and short of it.
“I thought she lived in Paris or some place like that...” he mumbles, still trying to figure something out. Not sure what though.
“She did. But she came home with me a few months ago. She hurt herself and needed to rehab at home before she figured out what she was doing.” My anger simmers as I start replaying our fight over in my mind.
“Well, what’s the problem then? You don’t want to do long distance? I mean, it’s a legitimate concern, but probably one you should have thought of before you started dating your brother’s sister-in-law. Wait—isn’t her brother living with you?”
“Yeah. That’s part of the problem. Her family. She wanted us to keep things quiet. She wasn’t ready for everyone to know and get involved. Grace is a real people pleaser?—”
He interrupts me, “There are worse things to be than someone who wants people to be happy.”
