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“I bet,” Hawk says, looking at James, really looking at him and giving him a smile. He heaps a generous spoonful onto James’ cake, then mine, then his own.
Declan pushes his plate forward and Hawk scoops some on his too. We sit there eating cake and drinking tea and coffee in awkward silence but for James interjecting his thoughts on this, that and pretty much everything.
When we’re finished, Declan and James stand. “You’ll want to take Melissa home I assume?”
Hawk nods.
With a quick goodbye, Hawk and I are alone, and he turns to me.
“You’re a jerk to him, you know that?” I say.
“You don’t know anything about us.”
“I know a little now. And if you’re planning on kicking them out of their house—”
“It’s not their house. It’s my house.”
I shake my head. “If you’re planning on kicking them out, then you were right last night.”
“Right about what?”
“That you’re not a good man.”
Hawk’s face tightens. “Did my brother put you up to this?”
“No, he didn’t put me up to anything. He just lost both parents and he’s a widowed father worried about his son.”
Hawk stabs his cake with his fork, breaks it apart, and when he turns to me, I see that weight of sadness in his eyes too.
“Just think about it,” I say. “There’s James to consider.”
“I thought it’d be easier,” Hawk says, looking beyond me.
I reach up, touch his face. I want to tell him I understand. I want to tell him to keep talking, but then he looks down at the sleeve of my borrowed jacket and his eyes narrow dangerously.
“You have his scent on you,” he says, his voice hard.
“He lent me his jacket. I didn’t have one.”
“I’m sure he did. He’s marking territory.
“No, he’s not. He’s just being nice.”
He chuckles. “Oh, Melissa, you are so naïve.” He stands, pulls my chair out. “Take it off,” he orders.
I get to my feet and before I can protest, he takes it off me himself. I try not to look at the other patrons in the restaurant. Try to pretend they’re not watching.
He puts his own jacket over my shoulders before taking my arm and walking me out, carrying my shopping bag and Declan’s coat, refusing to put it on even in the rain that’s falling once again.
28
Hawk
“Why did you bring me here?” she asks when we’re in the car. “I thought you needed me, but you just seem really pissed off with me every time you see me.”
“I’m not pissed off with you. Being back here is harder than I thought it would be. That’s all.”
“Then let me help you.”
I turn to her. “Stay away from my brother. That’ll help me.”
“You’re wrong about him. He’s really just being nice.”
“What did he tell you about me?”
She looks straight ahead as we drive. “He told me about your parents and Ann.”
I snort. “What did he say? Paint her to be a saint?”
“No, actually, he didn’t. He told me about the affair and finding out he was your brother by blood. And he told me how much influence his mother had over your father. He gave the impression she was unfaithful, and you tried to protect your father and that it backfired.”
I’m silent for a moment because it’s the truth. And I guess I didn’t expect Declan to tell the truth. Or maybe that his version would be different than mine.
That’s twice in one day now that I’m surprised. Caught off guard.
First, it was my grandfather this morning giving me the one thing my father did leave me. I feel the weight of it in my pocket and it deepens my already heavy sense of loss. And now this. Now Declan telling her the truth about what happened. Declan knowing it.
“And I get the impression no one seems particularly bothered that his mother died too, along with your father,” she continues, and I’m grateful to be drawn from my thoughts.
“She wasn’t a nice person,” I say.
“Still, she was his mother. I’m sure that’s painful for him.”
“Don’t worry about Declan. He’ll be fine. Always is.”
We get to the bridge that connects the small island upon which the house is situated to the mainland and I see how Melissa sits up.
“It’s safe. I wouldn’t take you over it if it weren’t.”
I park the SUV and climb out. “Wait here,” I tell her, getting the boots I saw she’d bought out of the trunk. “Put these on.”
“Why? It’s just a short walk to the house.”
“We’re not going into the house.”
I wait for her to put on the new boots and take her arm to walk her around and behind the house. Two of the dogs follow us part of the way as we make our way through the moist fields and I try to ignore the rain soaking my sweater.
It’s about ten minutes before I hear the sound of the sea. It grows louder as we climb over several hills and get to the cliffs. I stop when we do because even in this rain, I can’t not stop. I can’t not look at this.
