Page 11 of Finding Forever

The day before, he’d picked out the steaks at the butcher’s counter instead of grabbing whatever was closest. In a chiller beside him sat two of the best rib-eyes he’d ever seen. They were Mark’s favorite, and might make up for not seeing each other in a while.

Mark’s home was a small rental with a view of the marina. It was always tidy, and Dave used to joke that it was because Mark wasn’t home enough to leave a mess.

The grill was already sitting on the deck when Dave pulled in.

Mark walked toward him. “You’re early.”

“I wanted to beat the traffic on the bridge.”

“There’s no traffic on a Sunday, Dad.”

“Okay,” Dave said with mock seriousness. “You caught me out. I wanted to spend more time with you.”

Mark grinned as if he’d been waiting to hear Dave say he’d missed him.

After a quick hug, they fell into the easy rhythm of two people who loved each other and didn’t need much ceremony about it.

Mark asked about the resort—how the framing was coming, whether Noah was still riding him about the timeline. And Dave gave him the whole story, not the short one.

Dave asked about Mark’s job, whether the new manager was as difficult as the last one. Mark told a story about a spreadsheet mix-up that had Dave laughing hard enough to set his beer down.

Somewhere between the steaks going on and catching up with Mark’s news, Dave started talking about the arts center.

He hadn’t planned to. He’d meant to keep it to a few sentences. But he told Mark about the old tin ceiling Beverly Cantrell’s group was hoping had survived, and the way the light would fall once the skylights went in, and how the new manager had a way of seeing a room before it existed that reminded him of Mark’s mom.

“Tell me more about the new manager,” Mark said as he flipped the steaks.

Dave took a moment before answering. It surprised him that there was so much to say about someone he’d only known for a short while. “Her name is Beth Kowalski. She’s lived in Sapphire Bay for years and knows most of the people in town. She’s responsible for putting together a program of activities at the arts center and setting up class registrations.” A smile worked its way across his face. “And making sure the remodel keeps to its tight schedule and budget.”

Mark glanced across at him. “She must be organized.”

Dave nodded. “She has to be. There’s a lot riding on making the center a success. Most of the funding for the remodel has come from grants. They have strict criteria and need to see people coming through the door as soon as possible.”

Mark didn’t ask any more questions about Beth, which suited Dave more than he wanted to admit. He admired her in a way that caught him off guard. Beth asked practical questions that made the whole project better. And she had a quiet confidence that seemed to grow a little stronger every day.

She also had an uncanny ability to tell him he was wrong without making him want to argue.

He liked that about her.

Mark turned off the grill. “Do you want to eat on the deck or go inside?”

Dave tilted his face toward the sun. There wasn’t much warmth in it, but the view of the water made him want to stay a little longer. “I’m happy on the deck. I’ll give you a hand to bring out the plates.”

While Mark grabbed the salads, Dave collected the plates, knives and forks, and ketchup. On his way through the living room, he picked up the fresh loaf of bread he’d bought from the bakery in Sapphire Bay.

When he saw the food on Mark’s wooden table, Dave smiled. It wasn’t bad for two men who barely had time to sleep, let alone put together a lunch fit for kings.

Neither of them said much as they ate. Their silence was easy, even after months apart.

It was Mark who spoke first. “I worry about you living in Sapphire Bay by yourself,” he said, not looking up from his plate. “You’re living in a big, old house that always needs something fixed.”

Dave shrugged. “Your mom and I loved that house. It keeps me busy.”

“That’s not the point.” Mark set his fork down. “You’re still working two jobs so you don’t have to sit still. I’ve watched you do it for years.”

Dave reached for his glass instead of answering. It was an old habit that gave him a few seconds to figure out what he wanted to say.

“I’m fine, Mark. I like to be busy.”