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“Well, like you, my mother died when I was young. I was only three when she got sick. I don’t even remember her, only from pictures. She was married to William, who I thought was my biological father until I was eighteen. Turned out the man who raised me by himself was my stepfather. He’d met my mother when she was five months pregnant with another man’s baby and never cared that I wasn’t his child. William was madly in love with my mother. Still is. Never remarried. He’s the most amazing human I’ve ever met. When he told me the truth, he said he and my mother had never planned to keep it a secret, but after she died, he didn’t want to take away the only other parent I’d ever known.”
“Wow. Does your biological father know you exist?”
I shrugged. “I suppose. He did at one time, at least. My mother told him she was pregnant, and he sent some checks to help out when I was born. But William told him if he wasn’t going to be involved in my life, the checks weren’t necessary. He could take care of his family without a stranger’s assistance. That was the last they heard from Alex Stewart. About five years ago, I did one of those 23andMe tests, and I got a few hits on my father’s side. But no first-degree relatives like siblings or my father or anything. Then one day last year, I received an email saying I had new relatives. That happens frequently when you’re on that site. Usually it’s like a fifth-degree cousin or a great-great aunt. But that time when I went in to check, it said my father’s name and the relationship was parent. He must’ve been notified of it, too. So I assume he knows I’m still kicking around.”
“Did you ever make contact?”
“Nope. And neither did he. But I did research him online. That’s how I found out he lives in the Bahamas now. Apparently he became an executive for a large hotel chain, and when he retired early, he bought a run-down hotel here and brought it back to life. I found an article when I was looking into him.”
“If you got the email a year ago, what took you so long to come see him?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t have that feeling of abandonment like some people do who never got to know their parents. I don’t have questions I need answered or blame to hit him with. I guess I never had a sense of urgency.”
“Why now then?”
I shrugged. “It just feels like the right time, I guess.”
Beck nodded. “So what’s your plan? Walk up to him and tell him you’re his daughter?”
I sighed. “I don’t have one.”
“Sounds about right.”
I chuckled. “Shut up.”
Beck smiled. “You know your eyes lit up when you talked about your stepfather.”
“He’s truly an amazing man. Some women have issues because their father left or wasn’t a stand-up guy who set a good example of how a woman should be treated, and it causes dysfunctional relationships with men. My daddy issue is that no one can live up to the standard William set. He’s wise and fair, tough when he needs to be, but also a big teddy bear.”
“If my daughter grows up and describes me half as good as that, I’ll feel like I did my job in life.”
My eyes roamed Beck’s face as I sipped my wine. “I bet you’re a really good dad.”
“I try. I had a good parenting example to follow in Gram, and while my ex wasn’t the greatest wife, she’s a pretty good mom. But it sounds like we both got lucky that the right people jumped in to take over when we needed them.”
My eyes welled up unexpectedly, and I took a deep breath, fighting tears and searching for something to say. “I’m sorry Louise is dying. I can’t even imagine William...”
Beck reached across the table and swiped his thumb across my cheek, catching a tear. “Well, this evening took a turn for the depressing pretty quick, didn’t it?”
I laughed and blotted my eyes with my napkin. “Let’s talk about something more fun. Tell me about your brother, Jake. Your grandmother said you two are nothing alike.”
Beck shook his head. “That’s a compliment. Jake is ten years younger than me, but it often feels like he’s my child. He works for me.”
“What does he do?”
“I’m not really sure. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”
I laughed. “No, really.”
“He does marketing and public relations. He’s actually pretty good at it. But don’t tell him I said so. He came on board right out of college. I’m good at in-person stuff. Get me a meeting, and I can land most clients. But I’m not great at the non-in-person presentation prospective clients see—websites, prospectus design, getting articles printed in magazines. Jake has a boyish quality to him. He’s never not smiling and always needs his shirt ironed. But it works for him.”
“That’s funny. Meanwhile you’re brooding, impeccably groomed, and there’s nothing boyish about you.”
Beck’s eyes glinted in the candlelight. “I’m glad you noticed. I’m all man, sweetheart.”
I felt my cheeks heat. Luckily, the waiter arrived with our first tasting course, a single homemade potato chip with caviar atop. Absolutely delicious.
I wiped my mouth with my napkin. “So tell me, Beck. Why are you divorced?”
