Snow Day: Heart of the Storm / Seeing Red / Land's End. Jennifer Greene
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Brody bowed his head, focusing all his attention on a fuzz on the cuff of his sweater just so he had a place to look. “I don’t know how to explain why I left the way I did without sounding like I’m putting you down.”
“Son, you think I don’t know my work is hard and pretty thankless? Nobody knows more than me that my house ain’t grand and my wife doesn’t have a diamond ring and my truck don’t run half the time. But you and your sister never wanted for a meal, dammit.”
“I wanted more. There was always food on the table and I appreciate that, but I wanted more for myself and if I talked about doing something else, you’d just shake your head and walk away. Fishing was good enough for you so, by God, it was good enough for me.”
His dad was quiet until Brody finally looked up. The old man’s voice was as sad as his eyes when he did speak. “I didn’t know how to want more for you, Brody. I’m a fisherman, just like my father and my grandfather and two generations before him. Hell, your mom’s mother was a fisherman’s wife and so on before her. We don’t know any life but this.”
Brody had to swallow past the lump in his throat. “Maybe it’s because Delaney came from a family that didn’t fish, but every time I’d try to picture our future, I saw her looking tired and older than her age, with worry lines from years of juggling bills.”
“And you saw yourself being me.”
He didn’t know what to say to his dad. The words were true, but admitting it out loud seemed like a cruel blow for a man who’d done his best. He hadn’t been running away from his parents. He was running to the man he wanted to be.
“I went through the same thing,” his dad said. “I was maybe a little younger than you were when you left. Looked around and realized I was going to spend my whole life fishing like my old man and I’d end up just like him. The only difference between you and me at that age is that you had the guts to leave.”
It had never occurred to Brody that his father might have felt that way. And maybe his father before him. “I love you and Mom. I hope you know that.”
“We do. And even though we hated losing you, we’re both proud of what you’ve made of yourself.”
Brody had to clear his throat twice before he could speak. “Thanks, Pop.”
“Your big screw-up, though, was not taking your girl with you.”
Yeah, he knew that now. But at the time... “I had two hundred bucks in my pocket and no plans. No safety net. No family. No nothing.”
“Once you started making some money for yourself, why didn’t you call her?”
Brody couldn’t meet his dad’s piercing gaze, so he focused on the sweater fuzz again. “I didn’t have the guts to tell anybody I was leaving. I didn’t say goodbye to her. I guess I didn’t have the guts to call her, either. I thought about it. A lot, actually. But I didn’t think I could take her hanging up on me.”
“Kind of gutless for a young man who left everything he’d known to go off into the world with only two hundred bucks in his pocket.”
“Being cold and hungry wouldn’t kill me, but Delaney turning a cold shoulder to me might have.”
“And now you made the girl fall for you all over again and we all know you won’t stay. Guess that makes you a... What’s that word the young people use nowadays? Douche bag?”
Brody almost choked. “Pop! What?”
“Pretty sure that’s the word I’m looking for.” He gave Brody a sly look. “Unless you’re planning to stick it out this time.”
He wasn’t sure yet what he was going to do, and he couldn’t come up with the words to explain that since his brain was busy trying to wrap itself around the fact his old man had called him a douche bag.
“Sure is a pretty lady,” his dad continued, his eyes fixed on Delaney across the room. “Your mom told me this morning you guys would make pretty grandbabies.”
Babies. Brody watched Delaney lean down to speak to one of the kids and his gut tightened. It was too easy to picture her with a smaller version of herself and maybe a little Brody. She’d be a great mom.
What wasn’t easy to picture was the home they’d live in. Not his condo. It not only wasn’t kid-friendly, but he couldn’t imagine Delaney away from Tucker’s Point. This wasn’t simply the town she lived in or the people she knew. This was her home and they were like family to her. Even an idiot could see that after the days they’d all spent cooped up together.
But he couldn’t picture himself in Tucker’s Point, either. Sure, he’d bonded with people again. There were old friends, like Donnie Cox. His parents and his sister and Mike. And there was Noah. The kid had weaseled his way under his uncle’s skin and visits to the kid would be frequent. He’d make sure the boy could Skype before he could even talk.
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