“No.”
Rose shook her head in disbelief. “Then please explain it to me. Was all that made up, so that I’d feel good about who my father was?”
“No, of course not,” Emma replied. “It wasn’t made up. But I said those things when I thought he had a good excuse for not showing up that Christmas.”
“Because he wasdead? That’s a pretty high bar, Mom.”
“Don’t be facetious,” Emma said scoldingly.
“I’m not. But have you talked to him about what happened? Asked him why he didn’t come?”
“Of course I talked to him. He told me he went back to Sable Island eventually, but some idiot told him that I’d gotten back together with Logan, which wasn’t true. But he believed it and left. Seriously, I don’t understand. He knew how much I loved him. I thought it was clear when we said goodbye that final time.” She paused a moment and exhaled sharply. “Oh, it doesn’t matter now. All that matters is that he turned straight around and went back to his wife in England.”
“The one who cheated on him?” Rose asked incredulously.
“Yes.” Emma glanced back at the house and wondered if Oliver was watching them from a different window. “The bottom line is ... oh, I don’t know what I’m saying. All I know is that there’s been too much water under the bridge for him and me. He’s put me through enough hell. I can’t do that again.” She faced Rose. “But it’s different for you and the children. He’s your father and their grandfather, and I think it’s important that you at least meet him and decide for yourselves if youwant him to be a part of your lives.” She stood up a little straighter. “As for me, I’m done with that. I just want to be on my own.”
The air was windless, thick, and muggy. Rose lifted her long hair off her shoulders and fanned the back of her neck with her hand.
“Really, Mom, you should hear yourself. You said the exact same things about Logan. You told me there was too much water under the bridge, but you understood that he needed to be a part of Matthew’s life, but he’d put you through hell. Yada yada yada.”
“Rose,” Emma said with a note of impatience. “This is more complicated than that.”
“Damn right, it’s complicated,” Rose replied. “So maybe you should go back in there and talk to Oliver some more before you hit the reject button.” She waved her arm toward the house. “Who knows what he’s been through? Two shipwrecks and a wife who cheated on him. Not to mention the Second World War. You’re a therapist, Mom. A PTSD expert. To be honest, I’m a little shocked at how you’re so quick to judge him.”
“I’m notjudginghim,” Emma replied, feeling defensive.
Rose backed off a little. “Maybe not, but you’re not trying to understand the situation either.”
For a moment, Emma fiddled with her locket and found herself thinking again of that day on the beach when he’d left her humiliated and heartbroken the first time.
Why did she keep going back there in her mind?
Oh, she knew why. Ever since that day, she’d been internalizing the grief from every single loss in her life.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll talk to him some more. It’s not like I can avoid it anyway. He’s standing in my kitchen, waiting for me to introduce the two of you.” She turned to Rose. “Are you ready for that?”
“Yes.” Rose glanced back at the house. “I want very much to meet him.”
Chapter 38
Startled by the squeaky hinges on the front screen door as it swung open and slammed shut, Oliver looked up from the kitchen table. He’d been leafing through Emma’s photo albums to keep from watching out the windows.
Emma appeared, looking lovely in her faded jeans and oversize white shirt, and he was surprised at how his heart and body calmed at the sight of her as she led their daughter into the room. Their daughter!
“Hello,” Rose said warmly. “Captain Harris. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
His anxieties and regrets, like waves, retreated again. In their place came a rush of strong love as he took in the sight of her. “Sadly, I’ve heard very little aboutyou,” he replied. “Only what your mother could tell me today, before you arrived. But there wasn’t much time.” Not nearly enough.
Rose gave him an encouraging nod, and he sensed by her demeanor that she was openhearted and forgiving, without hostility toward him. It came as a relief, because she was a mother—she could just as easily refuse to meet him altogether, to protect her children from developing affections for a stranger who might later walk out on them and never return. That was, after all, the thrust of his history with Emma.
“From what I understand,” Rose said, “it’s been a day full of surprises. But don’t worry. We have plenty of time to get to know each other.”
She strode forward, embraced him, and rested her cheek on his shoulder.
Oliver’s entire being shuddered with yet more love, and his heart broke wide open painfully. As he held his daughter for the first time, and heard his grandchildren’s laughter outside, he wondered how he would ever get on with his life after this. The children were running circles around the tire swing in the shade of a giant maple tree, and as he watched them through the kitchen window and hugged Rose, he felt as if he were floating dizzyingly on a cloud, but at any moment he might fall to earth and land with a punishing blow. His insides flared hotly with panic and a terrible sense of regret about a decision that could never be reversed. The lost years were gone forever. He would never get them back.
“I’m so glad to finally meet you,” Rose said, stepping back, and Oliver could have wept. “Honestly, it feels like a miracle.”
