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“You got it.”
The line went dead, and Jace stood in the gym parking lot as the September sun beat down on him, marveling at the way things worked around here. He certainly knew the McCarthy name and had seen the signs for their marina and hotel in North Harbor, but he hadn’t expected a call from Mac McCarthy about work.
He owed Mallory a big thank-you tomorrow morning for referring him to her brother. Walking the short distance to his new home, Jace felt more settled than he ever had before. It’d been years since his life was as well ordered and uncomplicated as it was in this beautiful place. A man could put down roots here, surrounded by new friends who didn’t know all his dirty secrets. And even if they did know, they didn’t care.
Six months after being released from prison, he was still figuring out who he was in this new life he was creating for himself. His only goal had been to locate Lisa and the boys, which had taken some time. And then he’d learned that Lisa had died, and his boys were being raised by her friends. That’s when he’d contacted an attorney, who’d helped him navigate the thorny path to contacting the boys’ guardians.
He understood he’d shocked Seamus and Carolina when he’d reached out via the attorney and that they would’ve been perfectly within their rights to tell him to go to hell. But that wasn’t what they’d done, and he’d be forever thankful for the arrangement that allowed him to see his sons—not as their father, but as a friend of Seamus’s—until they were older and further removed from the trauma of losing their mother.
This wasn’t the time to introduce their long-lost father or to explain where he’d been all this time or why he hadn’t come when their mother was sick. He couldn’t bear to think of when they would learn the truth about him and his past or how terribly he’d let them down when they were babies. Would they forgive him? He wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t.
Those thoughts were still on his mind later that afternoon when he jumped on the bike he’d borrowed from a colleague at the Beachcomber and rode to Seamus and Carolina’s house. Already, there was a September chill in the air that had been warm only a week ago. He remembered his mother saying it was like someone flipped a switch on Labor Day, and summer in Rhode Island became autumn overnight. That was especially true on Gansett with the ocean breeze cooling things considerably.
Island roads that had been clogged with traffic and mopeds during the holiday weekend were now clear and far less treacherous for a bicyclist. When he turned the bike into the driveway that led to Seamus and Carolina’s place, he heard the delighted voices of two boys released from the confines of school and the barking of their beloved Burpy, who was always with them.
Seamus, who’d driven the boys home in his Gansett Island Ferry Company truck, waved to Jace when he saw him there, gesturing for him to come in. Jace would never have the words to tell the Irishman raising his sons how thankful he was for the grace he’d shown him.
Having recently turned seven and eight years old, Kyle and Jackson were now in second and third grades. Both were missing teeth, and Kyle had a scab on his chin. They were blond and freckle-faced, just as he and Jess had been at their age. They reminded him so much of him and Jess, giving him a pang of regret and longing for the brother he’d lost so senselessly.
Kyle saw him first and came running over. “Mr. Jace, look at the picture I drew in art class today. It’s Burpy!” The little boy held up the paper with the drawing.
“I can see that. It looks just like him.”
Kyle looked up at him with big golden-brown eyes that reminded Jace of Lisa. “You really think so?”
“I do. For sure.”
Kyle ran off to find Jackson, yelling as he went. “I told you it does, too, look like him. Mr. Jace said it!”
“You really saw Burpy in that drawing?” Seamus asked, brow raised.
“I saw the start of what might eventually be Burpy.”
Seamus grunted out a laugh. “Well played, mate. Boys! Get your backpacks and go inside to do your homework and get a snack.”
With much grumbling about the stupidity of homework, the boys returned to Seamus’s truck to get their backpacks and ran inside, with Burpy following them.
“They’re like an energy tornado after being trapped in school all day.” Seamus gestured for Jace to follow him to a barnlike structure about a hundred yards from the main house. He rolled open a huge door and flipped on overhead lights that illuminated a vast space used for storage. A musty smell filled the air. “Caro and I have had good intentions about cleaning out all this junk, but with the two tornadoes underfoot these days, that job is taking a lot longer than it should’ve. We figured we should do something with the boxes that came from Lisa’s place, though.”
He pointed to them. “The ones on the left have your name on them. The rest are hers. Caro went through it all and set aside some clothes, photos and other personal items the boys might want someday. Do you know of any family that might want the rest of her things?”
“She was estranged from her family after they told her not to marry me.” He glanced at Seamus. “Turns out they were right.”
“I wonder if they’re aware that she passed. Dan Torrington would know. He handled her estate.”
“I met him in town earlier. I could check with him and see if there’s anyone who might want her things.”
“That’d help. Thanks.”
“I’ll let you know what I find out.” Jace opened one of the boxes that contained clothes he hadn’t seen in years.
“We can put them in my truck, and I’ll give you a lift to town when I go back to work.”
“Thanks.” The two men carried the ten boxes to Seamus’s truck. “Can I ask you something?” Jace said when the last of the boxes had been loaded.
“Sure,” Seamus said, a little wary, as he always was around Jace.
“Do you know where Lisa is buried?”
