Page 89 of Welcome Home to Ivy Falls

‘Dad.’ Ford kept his voice low and tight. ‘Please order it.’

With a rude flick of his hand, he waved down the bartender. While we waited, dozens of older couples moved around the room. I’d never seen so many rubies and Rolexes in my life. I’d heard stories about the wealth in Harpeth Manor, but all of this was too much.

As his father handed us our drinks, a man with cropped white hair at the end of the bar waved in our direction.

‘That’s Guy Sorenson,’ his father bit out. ‘One of his partners recently retired. They’re looking to hire a new doctor for their practice. I mentioned you were looking.’

‘Dad.’ Ford sighed. ‘We’ve talked about this. I’m not going to work in Harpeth Manor.’

‘You’re thirty-two, Crawford. When are you going to grow up? Stop gallivanting around the world and get a real damn job.’ His fingers tightened around the thick crystal glass. ‘I’m growing tired of you and your brother disappointing me. This family has a good name to uphold and you boys are making a mockery of it.’

‘All the guilt-tripping in the world won’t change my mind,’ Ford shot back.

‘Guilt? No, this isn’t guilt. This is truth.’ He took another swig of his drink. ‘Your mother and I have supported you and your brother through your ridiculous little forays, but it is time to man up. Face your responsibilities.’

His father’s menacing growl drew more than a few stares. Ford had explained how overbearing his family could be, but the condescending and patronizing way his father spoke to him was too much.

‘Ford has a good job,’ I snapped. ‘The people in Senegal, on Humanity of the Seas, will be damn lucky to have him when he returns in October.’

The older man’s eyes bulged. Ford shook his head and pulled in a heavy breath.

Oh shit. I’ve said the wrong thing.

‘You promised your mother you were done with that nonsense.’ His father’s voice bordered on incensed.

Ford tipped up his chin. Looked his father in the eye. ‘I’m going back. Signed another six-month contract.’

‘Why do you keep disappointing us?’ Mr Foster slammed his glass down onto the bar, whiskey spilling out into a brown puddle.

The dry, nutty scent of it washed over me. I’d been here too many times. At the precipice of want and need. The ache to be numb so overwhelming it made me gasp. I grounded my feet to the floor. Listened to the rapid thud of my heartbeat, reminding myself that a few hours of being mindless never made the pain in my life disappear, it only blurred the edges until I was dumped back into reality again.

I turned to Ford. Pain rippled across his face, and that hollow claw of need was replaced with an angry heat.

This beautiful man cared for Old Mrs V with a gentle kindness that was beyond his duties. Spent time with Dex, who needed an adult to reassure him that he was worthy of time and attention. He knew my past, what I’d been through, but never hesitated to listen. Asked the right questions and never judged my answers. Mr Foster was lucky to be a part of his son’s life. To get to watch him grow and use his skills to help others.

A wall of grief punched against my chest. What I would have given to have my parents alive. To have them see how far I’d come. To be present at Beck’s wedding as he married the love of his life.

As much as I knew I should let Ford fight his own battles, I couldn’t stand here quietly and listen to his father spew his rage and ignorance all over him.

I stepped closer to Mr Foster. ‘Sir, you’re way out of line.’

The veins in the older man’s temple bulged.

‘Piper, no,’ Ford said with a quiet plea.

‘I’m sorry but I can’t listen to this.’ I lowered my voice but kept it hard as ice. ‘Every single day your brilliant son gives himself to his job. The people in Ivy Falls are a hard group to impress, but they adore Ford. Think he’s one of the best things that has ever happened to our community. And the work he’s doing in Africa, how he’s using his skills to help people in need, is a fact to be admired, not treated like some kind of poor and uninformed choice you and your wife are ashamed of.’

His father glared at me with the heat of a thousand suns, and I shot him the same unflinching look.

What the actual fuck is wrong with these people?

‘You’re right, Ford is thirty-two. You should stop forcing your own hopes and dreams on to him like he’s a rudderless child. Be grateful he’s got direction. That he’s adding some good back into this shitty world. Your amazing and brilliant son is standing right in front of you, telling you what makes him happy. Do you know what a gift that is? Some parents never get to see their children grow up.’ I swallowed back a sob. ‘To witness their contributions to their community. How they change the lives of the people around them. You should be damn glad you’re given even the tiniest bit of access to his life considering the way you’ve treated him.’

The sound of a knife clinking against glass filled the room as Beck’s brother tried to gather everyone in for the toast.

‘This is none of your business,’ Mr Foster barked at me before jabbing a stubby finger into his son’s chest. ‘We’re not done talking about this,’ he spat out before stomping toward the table where his wife stood.

I started to apologize but Ford shook his head, made the slow walk to the front of the room where his brother and the rest of the party were waiting.