AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Then Doctor Pierce was out of things to do, and it was just Owen, feeling like there was a hell of a rain squall happening in his skull. This must be what Cricket felt like when she was having one of her tantrums but his body stayed quiet while the storm raged inside.
“So, now what?”
It had been over thirty years since he’d looked to his father for any kind of guidance, but he was hoping he had some words of wisdom or at least answers now. Owen sure as hell didn’t.
“Can’t say I know for sure,” Monty said with a shrug. “But I’ve got a cooler with a few beers, a couple jars of bear meat, and a camp stove on my boat. Happy to share any of that, maybe answer some questions for each other.”
* * *
It wasn’t beaver meat, but canned bear was pretty damn good. Far more tender than he thought it would be. There weren’t any bears on Enclave but Owen knew you could get hunting permits for other places. Maybe he and some of the guys could take the girls for a camping trip—as long as they didn’t have to fly, Cricket would love that.
Some of the girls were crack hunters, and the ones who didn’t care to go out to harvest game could mind the camp or forage for whatever was in season. Yeah, he’d bring that idea up with Taj and the others when he got back.
He and Monty had dug into the bear meat and downed a beer each. Once he’d finished his bowl of food and cracked open another beer, Monty sat and leaned back against the side of the boat. “Your mom… Well, Nadine was a hard woman. You probably know that better’n I do though. Had grit, for better or for worse. I tried to stay in touch when you all went down to Washington, didn’t do a great job. She called me one day.”
Monty took a swig of beer and looked out over the water. “She told me to leave you alone. Said you’d be better off without me. She didn’t want you ruining your life and wasting it like I had. Said you were smart, you could be more than just a fisherman.”
That definitely sounded like his mom. She’d always pushed him to be more, better, work harder. She’d told Owen she didn’t want him to end up like her, but maybe she’d meant she didn’t want him to end up like his dad.
Owen had never been sure closure was a thing people could actually get, but now he understood the urge to do anything a person could to get it. He’d never be able to ask his mom why the hell she’d lied about his dad being dead, what right she thought she had to take that away from him. He could scream at the heavens, he supposed. Which, given how stubborn his mom could be, might be just as satisfying as demanding answers from her.
His relationship with his mom hadn’t been easy, but he’d always trusted her. There was grief in knowing he’d been wrong to do so, not to mention anger. What else in his life had been a lie? Would he ever know?
There was something he could do now, though, for the parent who was sitting right in front of him despite all odds.
“You know I don’t feel that way, right? There’s nothing ‘just’ about being a fisherman. You all bust your asses to feed people, and you’ve got to have a lot of smarts to be good at it. It’s hard and dirty work and you’re not wasting anything.”
Monty took off his trucker hat and ran his hand through salt and pepper hair. “’Preciate you sayin’ so, but I get what she meant. It’s dangerous, the hours are long, it’s hard on the body, and the pay isn’t great. Plus she hated it up here. Thinking about it now, maybe she just didn’t want to lose you to Alaska. I dunno. Hard to say what exactly was going through her head. She’d always been the one who took care of you, though, so I didn’t really feel like I had a right to argue much.”
“I kinda wish you had,” Owen told him, leaning forward to set his elbows on his knees.
What would his life have been like if he’d grown up with his father in his life? Would he still be a doctor? Would he have outgrown his fantasy of living a subsistence life in rural Alaska? Maybe, maybe not. Given that it was all said and done it wasn’t worth gnawing on, but he couldn’t help but speculate.
“I don’t have too many regrets,” Monty said, “but dropping out of your life is one of ’em. That’s not a chapter of my life I’m proud of.”
“Nothing we can do about that now,” Owen said.
And after at least some of his rational brain had recovered from the shock, he knew he should do the smart thing and make sure Monty was who he said he was, and not some scam artist or grifter. Not just to protect himself either, but Cricket too, and hell, all of Enclave. But that six-year-old Owen who’d cried himself to sleep for months held out hope, and the excited, optimistic part of him wanted to get on the phone to the love of his life to tell his babygirl the news. As a grown-ass, responsible man and Daddy who’d pledged to protect and care for his Little girl, he’d have to balance the two until he could get some answers.
“But the good news is that book’s not over yet.”
He offered the man who might be his father a tight smile which Monty returned, and then they sat in silence for a while, looking out at the sea.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Just like last time he’d com home from a trip, Daddy had arrived early enough in the morning to get her out of her crib. It was fine to have Uncle Linc do it, but it was so much better when it was her Daddy. And even though it made her impatient, she did enjoy reconnecting with him through their morning ritual.
It wasn’t just the sexy parts, either. Although who was she kidding? She really liked the sexy parts. But she was also excited to tell Daddy all about the latest chicken goings-on because wow had there been a lot of drama. Cricket was so excited to tell him everything that she hadn’t been able to sit on the couch but was instead on her feet like a stand-up comedian.
Daddy seemed distracted though, and she didn’t like it. One of the best things about her Daddy was that he always paid so much attention to her. And after he’d been away for days, Cricket really thought he ought to have saved up plenty and should be lavishing it on her right now. Instead, she’d had to repeat herself a bunch of times. She was starting to be insulted.
“What’s wrong with you, Daddy?” she demanded, and stomped her foot.
Hmm, given the way his eyes glinted and his head snapped up, Cricket thought she might be about to have regrets.
“Excuse me, babygirl? Did you want to rephrase that? Maybe reconsider your tone?”
“Um, yes, Daddy. Sorry, Daddy.”
