Leah
Girls need their fathers,” her mother had told her. It was said near the end, when her health was failing and their days together were growing shorter. Leah knew she meant it as comfort, that her father would look after her. Their family had always been close; ironically, it was after her mother passed away when distance crept in between them. As if, somehow, her absence left a crack too jagged to be closed, as if she’d been the ribbon that tied them all together. Leah had read plenty of books on loss. She knew how the distance found them: it was her grief, it was her father’s guilt for surviving, and for later remarrying. It was a lot of things. Though they gathered for holidays and talked occasionally, for the most part Leah tried not to need her father. That night, however, after Greg showed up, Leah needed grounding.
Greg’s surprise visit had rattled her more than she’d thought possible. When she first looked up and saw him standing in her shop she was livid. How dare he just show up like that? Later, seated across the table from him at the grill she’d realized sheactually wanted to hear him out. As much as she’d moved on that summer, their ending had been abrupt and there was still need for closure. She’d listened to Greg, head spinning as she did. She’d agreed to consider his proposal, despite all her misgivings. One thing about Greg was that his timing was impeccable. He’d managed to catch her in a moment of uncertainty, even if he didn’t realize it. Her life in Chatham, which she’d just started to settle into, was suddenly feelingunsettledagain. And there was Greg, right on time. When he kissed her like that in front of the bookstore it was the final blow.
“What are you doing?” she’d cried, reeling back.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but I still love you.”
A disconcerting surge of old feelings rushed her: the familiar press of his lips, the comforting scent of his aftershave. Even the handsome face that looked back at her, his gaze ripe with hope. The memories hit Leah hard on the sidewalk, as did the possibility that she could have all of this back. If she wanted it.
It was a scene ripped straight from the page of a romance novel, no different than one of the titles sitting on the front table inside her shop, mere steps away: old lovers standing beneath a streetlamp. Leah holding her ground in front of her new shop, symbolic of her solo start. And Greg, climbing out of pages past and inserting himself smack-dab into her latest chapter. Two characters at the intersection of past and present; and yet instead of feeling like serendipity, it felt like a car crash.
Now Greg was staying at Chatham Bars Inn, awaiting her decision. Luke was still heavy on her mind. And Leah found herself suddenly needing her father. It was just as her mother had said.
“What a nice surprise,” her dad said, when he answered her call. “I’ve been following the shop online, on the Facebook.”
His comment chipped at any distance between them and made her laugh. “You’re on Facebook, Dad?”
“I am now. It’s the only way I can keep up with you. How is business?”
“Busy.”
“Good. And you?”
“Also busy. But I’m hanging in there.”
There was a pause on the other end. “You sound a little down, honey. Is everything alright?” She did not want to unload all her troubles on her father.
“It’s been a long week. I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“Well, that’s an awfully nice thing for a father to hear.” She could tell he was smiling. “How about I do the talking for once?”
He told her about his garden and about a nest of robin eggs he’d discovered over the front door, things that were beautiful to imagine and easy on the ears. His voice was soft and gentle, like him, and the lilt of it took her back to childhood when her life felt soft and gentle, too. After they chatted awhile, there was one last thing he wanted to tell her.
“You know, honey, I don’t say it enough perhaps, but I am very proud of you. Of both you and your brother.” Even on the other end of the phone, she could hear the catch in his voice.
“I know you are, Dad.”
“There are no guarantees in life,” he went on. “We know that better than most, don’t we?”
“We do,” she said sadly.
“But that never stopped you. Since you were a little girl, you always went after what you wanted. Whatever is bothering you, follow that gut of yours. I have no doubt you’ll be alright.”
It was the sharpest connection she’d felt with her father in longer than she could recall, and she wished suddenly she’d done this more often. It was not hard to pick up the phone. She would try to do that more. “Thanks, Dad,” she managed. “That’s an awfully nice thing for a daughter to hear.”
When she hung up, Leah grabbed her purse and keys. It was time for a conversation of another kind.
Greg met her in front of the Chatham Bars Inn, as she’d requested. Leah had chosen two Adirondack chairs, off to the side and with a view of the fishing boats coming in to the pier.
The moment Greg sat down, she could tell he knew. Still, he was brave enough to ask for himself. “So did you have a chance to think about what I said?”
“I did.” She turned to face him. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see a future for us, Greg. Not anymore.”
He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “At least you were quick about it,” he said glumly.
“I wasn’t quick,” she told him. “I already knew.” She reached across the space between the two chairs and took his hand. “I’ve changed, after everything that happened. I like being back here, and I like where my life is going.”
