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“Thanks. Take care of yourself, Lark.”
“I will.” I run back to the truck as hope somehow sneaks in that this crumb might somehow turn into a whole loaf of bread. I have no idea why he would help Dane, but that he did, there’s just something so pure about that gesture. And if it helped get my brooch back, I’m all for it.
I buckle back in, and my dad asks, “Still want to stop by the apartment?”
“Yes. I promised Delta I would. She says I left a box behind.”
“Alrighty. Downtown it is.” We almost reach the stop sign when I finally turn back to steal one last look at the house. My dad will always live there, so it won’t be the last time I visit, but it won’t ever be in the same way. I’m grown and starting my life.
Delta and Marina are standing by the curb when my dad parks just behind her Mercedes. “I’ll only be a minute.”
“I’ll secure the box while you guys talk.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I get out and straighten my Beacon U T-shirt, always feeling underdressed around them. They would never say that. It’s my own issue because they’re always put together—Marina in a strapless green sundress and Delta in a floral dress with ties for straps that lace over her shoulder. I can only dream to one day look as pretty as they do.
Marina comes right for me and gives me a hug. “It’s good to see you, Lark.”
“You, too.”
Delta and I embrace right after. I shove my hands in my back pockets, a little anxious since I don’t know why they want to meet. I say, “My dad wants to get on the road.”
“Yes, understandable,” Delta says. “I wanted to give this to you.” She pulls two photos from her purse. “I’m sorry it took so long. I knew I had a few photos but tracking them down proved the equivalent of climbing Mt. Everest. The good news? I found the photos. The other good news is our attic is clean and organized.”
“Glad it helped.” I take the photos, and ask, “What are they?” before turning them over. She doesn’t need to answer. I know what both are just from seeing them. I know that one baby is me, and the toddler, I’d know those eyes anywhere. They hold the same depth they always did. Running the tip of my finger over the photo, I whisper, “Harbor.” I don’t mean to sound wistful, but I won’t hide my feelings either. Some days I just don’t have the energy.
I flip that photo behind the other of Li—my mom. I can pretend it’s easier calling her by her name, but it never has been. That loss plagues me. And although I may never get answers, I believe in my heart that she left me because she had to, not choosing to. That’s the difference between her and Harbor. He left because he wanted to.
“She’s pretty,” I say, glancing at Delta.
Leaning over and looking at the photo over my shoulder, she smiles. “She is.”
“Do you know why she left? Do you remember by chance?”
“I don’t. She wasn’t around back then. I remember her visit being brief, but I never saw her again. She never called, and I had two boys at the time, and I was pregnant with Noah. I was tired—”
“It’s okay. I understand. I appreciate the photos.”
“My pleasure. I made a copy of both, but I wanted you to have the originals.”
“Thank you.” I look back at my dad in the truck and then at Delta and Marina again. “If this is the last time I see—”
“It won’t be,” Delta says so assuredly with a smile.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you then.” I turn around and head to the truck. It’s tempting to hug them to tell them goodbye, but she’s right. I can feel it deep down. We’ll see each other again someday.
When I’m tucked in the truck again, I look at my dad. “I’m ready.”
“Then let’s go.”
Unlike when we drove away from the house, I don’t look back at the apartment or the town of Beacon. From now on, I’m only looking forward.
Two Years Later.
40
Harbor
There wasn’t a shredof my life that Lark Summerlin hadn’t embedded. Not a second, a minute, or an hour. Not a day, a week, or a month. Not even a year. And I’m going on two without her.
