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“I don’t think that’s true—I don’t think Skye hates you.”
Dean’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
I shrugged, not sure how else to say it. “I mean I don’t think Skye hates you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Um, were we both at the same restaurant?”
I took a deep breath as I thought hard about how to put this. I eventually settled on, “I think if Skye really, truly hated you, she wouldn’t have chosen the career path she did. Instead, she chose a path in law enforcement. And… she had to know that you’d cross paths, eventually. You’re both first responders. It was inevitable. Yet, she chose that path anyway. I think that was intentional.”
Dean’s expression shifted from bemused to pensive as he considered it. He sounded almost vulnerable when he asked, “You think she actuallywantedto see me?”
“I do.”
“Yet you saw how rude she was to me—to us both.”
I nodded—that part had been hard to forget. “It’s hard to connect with an estranged friend, let alone an estranged parent. I’m sure she doesn’t know what to do with herself, so she’s falling back on old habits. You’ve been giving her space, but I don’t think that’s going to work.”
“So… what—you think Ishouldn’tgive her space?”
“I’m not saying you have to be annoying about it, but put yourself in her orbit. Leave a line of communication open. I’m pretty sure she’ll reach out, eventually.”
He smiled. “I’m not so sure.”
“It’s worth a try right?” He gave me a look that said he wasn’t convinced. “What’s the worst that happens? She just continues to ignore you?”
“Fair point,” he answered and then grew quiet for a few seconds as he seemed to zone off on something in the distance. When he returned his gaze to mine, his eyes were a little softer. “You’re good at this parenting stuff.”
“I don’t know that Sicily would agree with you there.”
He frowned. “You know she would. She loves you.” I gave him a little, apologetic smile because I was more than sure he wished he could say the same about his own daughter, but I had this feeling, deep down, that if he tried hard enough, Skye would come around. “You know,” he continued. “I was a little jealous when I met Sicily for the first time.”
“Jealous?”
He nodded. “I mean… it was obvious proof that you’d been with someone else.”
“Um, you couldn’t have thought I’d never have another relationship after you?”
He chuckled. “Of course not—not in my rational brain anyway but then when I saw Sicily, I was very aware of the fact that you’d had your own life and you’d loved someone else… and all of that fun stuff.”
“Ah.”
He chuckled again. “But mostly I was jealous over how well you and Sicily get along. I’ve never had that with Skye. With Mason, yes, but it’s not quite the same.”
“I get that—you wanted to feel close to your daughter. That’s understandable.” He nodded, and I decided to change the subject because I didn’t want him to look so glum. I laughed. “As for me though… don’t think I’m some kind of saint, Dean. I’m a parent, and that means I’m going to screw up. It doesn’t matter how hard we try, we always screw up some way or another just like my parents did before me and theirs before them. It’s like the right of parenthood—knowing you’re going to mess up.”
Dean’s lips curled up at the edges, and he opened his mouth as though he might say more. But then he closed it again, spine going ramrod straight at the exact moment that someone screamed.
I was on my feet a moment before he could even sit up, nerves stretching taut. I’d become very acquainted with that sound since the Fog rolled through. It wasn’t the good-natured squeal of a game. It was the shriek of someone who’d been scared or even injured. I lurched into motion, following the sound, moving faster than Dean could ever hope to copy.
I arrived at the bonfire just twenty feet from ours and quickly saw the nature of the problem a moment later. Something was crawlingoutof the fire pit and alighting on the ground near it, setting the dried autumn leaves ablaze. And seeing those flames caused a flurry of panic to spark inside my chest. We hadn’t had much rain lately which meant the piles of leaves were crinkled and dry. Easy kindling for whatever was stalking toward us. If we didn’t stop it quickly, we’d have a wildfire on our hands. And one that could get out of control very quickly.
I turned to face my wide-eyed daughter.
Mason had stepped in front of her, shielding her body with his as he faced the flaming creature.
It made me like him a little more.
I pointed an imperious finger toward the road and shouted, “Run!”
