Page 125 of Beautiful Place By the Sea

“Why would that be a joke? I’m a minimalist.” He grins.

“Oh, Dad.” I shake my head. “I lived with you for 22 years. You’re not fooling anyone.”

“I see how it is.” He feigns offense. “While I know the theme of the day is cleaning and decluttering, I actually brought something over to add to your collection.”

“Helpful, Steven.” Mom rolls her eyes, looking slightly less charmed than she did this morning. Maybe they’re not completely over their issues after all.

“This is for Ivy,” Dad replies. “Feel free to excuse yourself. You’re good at that.”

My brows shoot up my forehead, watching this standoff between my parents. “Kids, be nice,” I beg after a moment of awkward silence.

Mom looks like she might cry, but she shakes her head. “I’ll go box up some books in your bedroom.” She walks away before I can respond, and the door clicks closed behind her.

“Seriously, Dad?”

His expression hovers somewhere between ashamed and guilty. “Sorry. We’re not quite over the trauma of what’s gone on.”

“You’ll apologize to her?”

He nods quickly. “Yeah. I’ll talk to her in a bit. I want to give her time to calm down. She’d probably bite my head off if I went in there right now.”

“Oh, indubitably.”

My father sighs deeply. “I always manage to screw things up.”

I squeeze his shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

“I hope so.”

I need to change the subject before he submits to the cycle of worry and despair that typically makes him shut down completely. “So, you said you brought me something?”

“I did.” He sounds a bit nervous.

“Am I allowed to see it?”

Dad reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small pile of folded papers, yellowed with age. I recognize the script on the top page immediately.

“Are those⁠—”

He nods. “The pages from Mom’s diary. I…I’m really sorry for taking them.”

“It’s okay. I understand why you had to.” I don’t want to make things any more challenging for him than they already are.

Dad reaches out a shaking hand, and I take the pages from him. “Is it okay if I read them?”

He nods. “Of course.”

I sink into a chair at the dining room table and spread the papers out in front of me, running my thumb along the crease to flatten it back out.

July 31, 1953

He took me to our place on the cliffs again tonight. It was so romantic. At one point, we were surprised by a tourist out for an evening stroll, and we had to scramble to make ourselves decent—definitely not my proudest moment.

August 6, 1953

I’m struggling a bit today. I invited my gentleman friend out tonight, but he said he had a family commitment. Janie and I went to Harbor Lights instead.

On the way home, though, I saw him walking arm-in-arm with a young woman. I recognize her from the beach; her family must vacation here, too, because she’s been in town for weeks.