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Dad opened the car door for her, and she slid into the back seat. They rode together to Kellyville with the windows down and the radio on. Bea sang along to the music, and soon Dad and Bradford joined in. She beamed all the way there. It was like old times again. She could almost imagine Bradford’s braces on his crooked teeth and her soccer cleats on her feet.
They’d shared a lot of good times when they were children, but for some reason, they’d both let the pain of their loss cloud those memories. They should talk more about the laughter, the fun, the happiness they’d shared. Perhaps then they’d actually enjoy spending time together more often.
They spent an hour walking around the café space while Bea wrote in a small notepad all the things they identified for fixing. There was a brand-new kitchen to install, along with everything from new stovetop, ovens and pizza oven. She wanted all stainless-steel benches and an extension on the walk-in refrigerator. The rest of the café was in good shape and needed only a fresh coat of paint, new furnishings and decorative touches.
There was also a small outdoor seating area that she envisioned with wrought iron chairs, tables and climbing ivy filled with twinkle lights. Her imagination was in overdrive putting together the look, feel and especially menu for her new venture, and by the time they’d finished the walk-through, she was buzzing with excitement.
They all sat on the steps outside the café. Bradford had taken photographs throughout and looked through them on his camera screen while Bea finished taking notes. Dad sat in silence, as was his tendency, and gazed out over the nearby marina, where a group of pelicans fought over something — no doubt a piece of fish left behind by a fisherman. The largest pelican gulped the prize down and waddled off with a satisfied squawk.
“You think you can manage all this?” Dad asked.
Bea set down her pen and looked around. “I think so. I’ve run a semi-successful catering company out of my house, plus lots of events, Parent Teacher Association fundraisers and Athletic Club functions. This should be a walk in the park compared to that.” She laughed, but the laughter did little to mask her anxiety.
The truth was, she wasn’t sure she could manage anything at all. The divorce had undermined the last of her self-confidence, and she did what she could to pretend everything was fine, but beneath the surface, she couldn’t help wondering if she was good enough.
“Of course she can,” Bradford said, putting his camera away in its bag. “She’s amazing. She can do anything.”
“Thanks, Brad,” she said. “I often wonder what Mum would’ve thought of something like this.”
Brad met her gaze. “She would’ve loved it. But you know that.”
“I guess so. Sometimes it’s hard to remember what she was really like. I get confused about whether I’m remembering the version of her I want to remember or the person she really was.”
He shrugged. “I guess we all do that a little bit.”
“Because the fact is, she was pretty difficult a lot of the time.”
Dad sighed. “We like to recall the good in people after they’re gone. Nothing wrong with that. I’m going to check out the garden shed in the back—see what they’ve got stored out there. Might even be a generator if we’re lucky.”
Bea handed him the keys, and he wandered off.
“He doesn’t like talking about Mum,” Bradford explained.
Bea frowned. “I know that. I know Dad too, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Bradford’s nostrils flared. “You haven’t exactly been present lately.”
“I’m here now, aren’t I?”
“Yes, but there have been a lot of years in between.”
“Excuse me for having a family and giving them my attention,” she spat. Even as she heard the words come from her mouth, she didn’t understand why she was being so harsh with Brad. He was her brother. She loved and admired him. He was one of her favourite people in the whole world, and yet he pushed her buttons in a way no one else could.
“What are you saying, Bea? It’s not my fault I don’t have a family.”
She stood to her feet and pressed her hands to her hips. “Maybe you’re here out of guilt, but I’m here because I love Dad and this island.”
“Guilt?” He stood as well, glowering at her. “Here we go again. You’re still blaming me for Mum’s death, aren’t you?”
She huffed. “Would it have been so hard for you to be a decent son?”
“I was a teen boy, Bea,” he growled. “It’s not fair to blame a child for a grown woman’s choices. I’ve blamed myself for enough years, but I’ve been through therapy and worked out that it wasn’t my fault.”
The wind was sucked from Bea’s lungs as her old arguments and all her rage over her mother’s death collapsed. The reality was she blamed herself, not him. But she’d taken it out on him.
She inhaled a slow breath. “I’m sorry, Brad. You’re right. Of course it wasn’t your fault. I was angry. She had everything to live for. I had to find a reason for her to leave us because if it wasn’t your fault, I guess I was scared that it was mine.”
Bea pressed both hands to her face. Bradford wrapped her up in his arms. She leaned against his chest.
