He tried to tell himself he was having a fight-or-flight reaction, and that neither response was indicated.
There was a rushing sound in his ears, too, that was preventing him from hearing what his father was saying; the pop shop tableau didn’t come with sound.
But Blair’s mouth was moving now, too, and he needed to know what she was saying.
With his will, he somehow unmuted the scene. She was introducing herself, but only by name.
“I know who you are, Miss Kellermoon.” His dad’s tone was infused with disdain. It was embarrassing. It was enraging.
He stepped forward, drawing their attention. “Dad. Why didn’t you tell me Ed Jensen died?” It was the wrong question. Well, it was the right question, but this wasn’t the time for it.
“You didn’t need the distraction.”
“To take a day to go to a funeral?”
“You were about to leave for a Boundary Waters trip with your high school kids. I didn’t want you to not go.”
Jack swallowed his rage. There was no point in arguing about this. Arguing with Art Branksome was always futile, and more to the point, it wasn’t going to bring Ed back, or rewind time so Jack could do right by Allie.
“But you didn’t even tell him later? I mean, setting aside the fact that he had a right to know, that Allie would have assumed you’d have passed on the news, you just werenevergoing to tell him?”
Jack had come to understand, even appreciate, what he used to call Blair’s stridency. But to understand it, to understand where it came from and what it meant, you had to know her. His dad did not know her. He didn’twanthis dad to know her. He held up a hand to signal her to be quiet. She didn’t like that—she shot him an incredulous look—but she did stop talking.
“What are you doing here with this Hollywood person, Jack?”
Jack didn’t know what he was doing here with Blair. Playing house, he supposed. Playing cabin. Playing pop shop.Playingbeing the key word. Living in a made-up land. He took that point, even though that wasn’t what his dad probably meant. Dad was probably concerned that he’d sold out to Books with Blair. “Why don’t we talk later, Dad? I’ll come by your place this evening.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were in town?”
“Why didn’t you tell him Ed Jensen died?”
Jack and his father swung their attention to Blair, and Jack very much feared they were giving her the same look.
Jack didn’t know how to protect Blair from his dad, but he reminded himself that he didn’t have to. She was a grown woman. Also: protecting Blair wasn’t his job.
“Why don’t we talk now?” his dad asked. “You can canoe home with me.”
Home.
The flash came back. A turquoise pool.
Jack would freely admit to being mixed up right now over what thewordhomemeant. He’d spent the last few days facing the fact that this place—Allie’s place—had been more of a home to him than his dad’s cabin. He’d spent the last few months facing the fact that his mother had been more of a parent to him than his dad. Hell, Ed Jensen had been more of a parent to him than his dad. And as for Jack’s place, the condo—he no longer feared he’d be forced to sell it, but was it home, or was it just the place where he lived?
The panicky, shaky feeling was getting stronger. He didn’t like his dad seeing him like this. He didn’t likebeinglike this. “I can’t talk right now, Dad, but I’ll come over in a bit.”
A black bird against a turquoise pool.
Why was this happening? That book wasdone.
“You should go, Mr. Branksome.” Blair was eyeing Jack as she spoke to his dad, and how had he gotten to the point where Blair Kellermoon was ejecting his dad from his presence? It wasn’t Jack’s job to protect Blair, but it wasn’t her job to protect him, either. “Dad,” Jack said, willing his message to land. “Give me an hour to… deal with things here.”
His dad looked back and forth between Jack and Blair, nodded curtly, and turned and headed down the steps.
Blair and Jack watched him drag his canoe out and, as if by silent agreement, waited until he’d paddled out a good way before turning to each other.
“Holyshit,” Blair said.
Jack sighed. “The thing is, he wasn’t wrong.”
