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Chapter2
After his meeting the next morning, Jace sent a text to the number Mallory had given him from a flyer she’d seen about a room for rent.
Hi there, saw your flyer and would love to check out your place. I’m off tonight and can come by around six, if that works for you.
On his days off, Jace attended the morning meeting, did laundry at the Beachcomber, spent two hours at the gym and then went to the beach to swim and lie in the sun. He had to force himself to relax as his body buzzed with an overabundance of energy that he attributed to being locked up for years. Now that he was out, he wanted to fully experience every second of every day.
He’d texted Seamus to see if he could see the boys after school but hadn’t heard back from him yet. That meant Seamus was probably captaining a ferry trip to or from the mainland. He’d reply when he could.
Jace had learned to be patient when it came to the man who was raising his sons. Seamus was extraordinarily accommodating to Jace when he certainly didn’t have to be. They had come to an understanding of sorts, after Jace had promised to never do anything to disrupt the family Seamus and Carolina had created for his sons.
A mutual friend told him Lisa had died while living on Gansett Island. While processing the shock of hearing she was gone, Jace’s first thought had been for his boys. Who was caring for them? Where were they living? Were they all right? He’d been frantic for information, and after a lawyer had helped him contact the O’Gradys, Jace had come to the island looking for answers. What he’d found had restored his faith in humanity—and broken his heart.
The boys were happily settled with good people who truly loved them. They were doing as well as could be expected after having lost their beloved mother and were thriving in school and in activities such as soccer and Little League baseball. He’d have to be a selfish jerk to do anything to disrupt the custody arrangement Lisa had brokered with the O’Gradys. Jace was determined to put his kids first, as painful as it was for him to acknowledge that Seamus and Carolina were better parents than he ever could’ve been to his own kids.
The truth hurt, but what did he know about raising kids? Especially kids who’d suffered the traumatic loss of their mother. They didn’t even remember him, which had been crushing. In his heart of hearts, he’d been certain they’d know him. But when they’d looked at him with blank expressions on their adorable faces, his heart of hearts had shattered.
So now he was relegated to “friend” status and was forced to be content with whatever he could get where they were concerned. They’d told the boys he was an old friend of Seamus’s, and they’d accepted him as such because they followed Seamus’s lead on everything. They obviously adored the Irishman who’d stepped up for them, and Jace couldn’t blame them for that. Seamus was a good man who was well regarded by everyone on the island.
Jace had asked around about the man who was raising his children. Of course he had, and he’d heard only accolades for Seamus as a person and as the man who ran the ferry company so competently for his wife, Carolina, and her son, Joe, who’d inherited it from Carolina’s parents. He’d also heard nothing but praise for Carolina, who was quite a bit older than Seamus and had successfully raised Joe into a man people liked and respected.
Not only were they good people, but they were also loaded, as the ferry company was a total cash cow. The island community depended upon the ferries for everything, from passenger and automobile transport to deliveries of mail, groceries, gas, liquor, and medicine. The list was endless. One of the ferry boat captains was a regular at the bar and had blown Jace’s mind one night describing the full extent of the operation.
Until he’d come to the island, Jace had never considered what it would take to keep the place going, and now that he knew, he’d concluded that his boys had fallen into a pot of gold. Since he barely had a pot to piss in, he could hardly compete with that. He was still paying off legal fees that would dog him for years to come.
So, yeah, the boys were way better off with the O’Gradys, and Jace was thankful to get whatever scraps Seamus and Carolina tossed his way. He was determined not to become bitter over it. What good would that do? He had only himself to blame for not being there when Lisa became sick and then passed away.
He would feel horrible about what he’d put her through for the rest of his life, but he was determined to do better going forward. Jace used his cup from the deli to make a sandcastle fort while hoping that maybe someday, Seamus and Carolina might trust him to take his sons to the beach. He wanted to know how to make a decent sandcastle in case that day ever came.
His phone chimed with a text, and he pounced on it, hoping it was Seamus. He’d seen the boys briefly yesterday, when he’d stopped by for the clambake Seamus and Carolina had hosted. But because he’d been due at work, he hadn’t been able to stick around. The boys had been caught up with their friend Ethan, so he hadn’t gotten any quality time with them.
Sure, come by between six and six thirty to see the place. The person at the other end of the text had included the address, which was two blocks from the Beachcomber. Convenient. He didn’t own a vehicle, so finding a place in town would be perfect.
See you then, he replied.
He didn’t bother to ask any of the usual questions—who are you, what’s your story, do you care about living with a paroled felon? Asking for a friend… He laughed bitterly to himself, wondering if that detail would make it impossible for him to find anything he could afford on the island. Who wanted to live with a criminal, even if the person was an ex-criminal?
Shaking off the depressing thought, he got up, walked into the water and dove into a wave, letting the water wash over him in a frantic rush of power. Being in the ocean made his own problems seem trivial when stacked up against the vastness of the water and the sky. God, he’d missed the sky when he was locked up. Talk about things a person took for granted until they’re gone.
Before prison, he’d never once acknowledged how much he enjoyed looking up at the sky, sun, clouds, moon and stars. Now he never missed a chance to look up and simply take it all in. Floating on his back, he looked for shapes in the clouds the way his mom used to do with him, Diana and Jess when they were kids.
His son Jackson resembled Jess. Realizing that had been another punch to the gut the day he first saw the boys. His fondest hope was that someday he might reunite his mostly estranged parents and sister with the grandsons and nephews they’d once adored. That might be a pipe dream, though, since a lot of things would have to happen to make that possible.
For now, Jace focused on the mantra of one day at a time preached by NA and AA and worked on keeping his life free of drama and things that might send him looking for the sort of relief he used to get from heroin and meth. Those days had to be over now, or he’d have no prayer of a relationship with his boys. It helped that he’d been clean so long that he had no desire to use. In that way, the years in prison had been beneficial, if you could call it that.
He napped on the beach until late afternoon, which was his favorite time of day there. Most of the people had left, but the sun was still warm and the beach inviting. Feeling refreshed from the afternoon off, he walked back to the Beachcomber to shower and change before his meeting with his potential housemate. He hadn’t had a single other lead on a year-round place, so this needed to go well with only six more days until he had to be out of the Beachcomber housing.
They shut off the water in the off-season, thus the pending eviction.
His manager had told him he could stay in a room at the hotel for a reduced rate if he was unable to secure other housing, but he was hoping for something more permanent.
After showering, he put on a long-sleeved Henley in case his potential roommate was turned off by sleeve tattoos. People were weird about things like that. His chest ached a bit when he thought about having to be honest about his past. It wouldn’t be fair not to tell him or her that he was out on parole, checking in weekly with a parole officer as well as the state cops who worked on the island, and would carry a felony record with him for the rest of his life.
When you considered all that, a few tattoos were probably the least of his concerns.
Jace laughed to himself. Who was he fooling thinking anyone was going to want to live with him? The thought of leaving the island, where his boys were, broke his heart, so he needed to make this work. Somehow. Maybe he’d encounter someone who understood that sometimes people screwed up, but that didn’t mean they were bad or evil.
He studied his reflection in the mirror and saw a mostly handsome face with a few hard edges, golden-brown eyes, decent lips, a fashionable amount of stubble. Using his fingers, he arranged his light brown hair into a messy but stylish look and then shrugged. Having done what he could to make himself presentable, the rest was out of his hands. On the way out of his room, he nodded to a few of the younger guys who worked as bussers and waiters in the restaurant and did a fist bump with Chris, one of the barbacks he worked with frequently. He was a good kid, halfway through college and on his way to a career in engineering. He was heading back to school in Indiana at the end of the week.
