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“We could never afford to,” Nora finished his thought. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Calvin scoffed.
“We were ashamed,” Drake admitted. “Jameson and me. We wanted more, and we made you feel like less. That has to be a damned hard place for a father to be.”
Calvin stilled, gripping his cup but not uttering a word. So very Drake-like.
Drake leaned forward, his eyes boring into his father’s. “If Jameson were ever ashamed of me, I would be devastated. I’m not sure anything could make me feel like less of a man. Other than right now, realizing how I treated you,” Drake’s emotion got stuck in his throat.
I squeezed his hand, so very proud of him.
A softness washed over Calvin’s countenance. “I wished to God I could have given you and your brother more.”
“You gave what you could,” Nora chimed in, her voice quite pitchy.
“I knew it was never enough.” Calvin sounded so defeated.
“Calvin,” Nora cried. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”
He waved away her apology. “Don’t be. It wasn’t right what I did to you, expecting you to live on so little. I never blamed you for leaving.”
“You pushed me away.” Nora was still obviously upset by it.
“What did you want me to do?” Calvin got riled up. “I could tell you wanted to go. You all wanted to leave.”
“No.” Nora clenched her fist. “I wanted you to stop me. Or come after me, you stupid fool.”
Calvin’s brown eyes widened. “You were better off without me,” he whispered.
“We weren’t,” Drake said. “But I will take the blame for it. All of it.”
“The hell you will.” Nora got fired up. “If anyone is to blame, it’s me. I should have been a better wife and mother and stopped all your nonsense before it went as far as it did.”
“Don’t you blame yourself,” Calvin forcefully jumped into the fray. “You were a damn good wife and mother. I failed our family.”
Drake stood. “It’s my fault,” he said in anguish. “Can we just leave it at that? Can you please forgive me?” he begged.
Calvin and Nora whipped their heads toward Drake, shocked into silence.
“Drake,” I whispered, reaching for his hand.
“It’s okay, Charlotte. Just let me own this. I swear to you, though, I will do better for our family.”
I squeezed his hand. “I have no doubt.”
Nora stood, set her cup on the coffee table, and came at her son. She was quick to wrap her arms around him. “Son,” she cried against his chest, “I’m sorry you’ve carried around this burden for so long. It is in no way yours to bear alone, do you understand me? We all made mistakes.”
Drake held on to her with all that he had. “I’m a terrible son.”
“No. No.” She tried to comfort him. “These last several years, it’s been me pushing you away. You’ve tried. Now look at you, with a son of your own. You owe it to Jameson and Charlotte to not make the same mistakes we made. Fight for what’s yours. Fight like hell if you have to.”
I liked Nora. A lot.
Calvin stood on unsteady legs. “Listen to your mother. Don’t be a quitter like your old man.”
Drake leaned away from his mom and gazed down at me. Such love filled his sheeny eyes. “I have no intention of quitting.”
Best. News. Ever.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Izzy fastened the last button on Daisy’s dress. “There you go.” She smiled at me through the standing mirror in our room.
I stared at myself and swore I saw Daisy looking right back at me. I felt the same excitement in my blood that she must have felt wearing this dress, knowing she was about to marry the love of her life. Drake and I weren’t talking marriage, but there was hope. For now, that was all I needed. “Thanks, Izzy.”
“You make that Drake Foster treat you well.”
“I will.”
She fussed with the elegant updo I was sporting. I looked more like a woman than a cute and perky girl tonight. Those push-up bras really do work wonders.
“He’s a lucky man.”
I brushed my fingers over my collarbone, feeling beautifully feminine. “I’m lucky too.”
“Maybe someday I’ll believe that.” She smirked.
“I do hope you and Drake will be friends.”
She tossed her head from side to side. “I’ll give him a trial period.”
“He is paying for the painter,” I reminded her.
“I’ll give him half a point.” She tossed her dark, curly tresses. She was stunning in her red satin evening gown with a daring neckline and a slit that showed off her toned legs.
“How generous of you,” I mocked her.
“It’s more than generous.” She wagged her brows. “We probably better head out there and get ready to greet our guests.”
“I can’t believe we’re doing this. Weird, huh? Renovating this inn and starting our own business.”
“I don’t know. I would say it’s more like two little girls living out their dreams.”
