Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
I passed The Pier Inn, the popular hotel and restaurant at the harbor where Xander and Dash had bused tables every summer and Mabel had been the hostess. At the light, I waved to my Aunt Faye, who was crossing Bayview with her yellow lab, a cup of coffee in one hand. She was my Uncle Harry’s widow and still kept the books for Two Buckleys.
Faye waved back, calling out, “Morning, Austin! Say hi to your dad!”
At the base of Lighthouse Point, a narrow strip of prime real estate jutting into the bay, I had to stop at the gatehouse and give my name. The attendant was an old friend of my father’s, a mechanic who’d retired about five years ago and worked part-time at the gatehouse when he wasn’t out fishing. He grinned as I pulled up and came out of the gatehouse to chat. “How’s it going, Austin?”
I put the truck in park. “Pretty good, Gus. Catch anything good lately?”
“You know it. I just told your dad he needs to give up this full-time stuff and get out on the water more often.” He jerked his thumb up the road. “He was here a minute or so ago.”
“I suppose he turned you down, huh?”
“As usual.” Gus grunted. “I don’t know why he wants to keep working so hard. I told him, I says, ‘George, we’re sixty-five, for cripes’ sake. It’s time to slow down.’”
“I agree with you.” I adjusted the cap on my head. “But he doesn’t listen to me either.”
“I hear Xander’s back in town. He could pass Two Buckleys on to you and Xander, easy.”
“Nah, Xander’s never had any interest. He’s starting his own business.” Plus Xander and I would kill each other.
“What kind of business? Private security stuff?” Then he laughed. “We don’t have too many people that need bodyguarding around these parts.”
I shook my head. “He’s opening a bar. He just bought the old Tiki Tom’s and he’s working on renovations.”
“Oh. Well, shoot. What about your brother Devlin? He still out east someplace?”
“Boston,” I confirmed.
“Guess he’s more of a suit and tie guy, huh?” Gus removed his bucket hat and scratched the top of his head with his thumb. “And I don’t suppose your brother Dashiel has any interest.”
“None at all.” Dash had chased his dream of being a movie star out to L.A., where he was an actor on a popular show called Malibu Splash—something we gave him endless shit about, although we were proud of him.
“My granddaughters love that show he’s on. They watch it all the time. Think maybe I could get them an autograph?”
“How old are they?”
“Ten and twelve.”
I grinned. Dash was twenty-six, but he played a teenage lifeguard on the show, and his fan base was solidly prepubescent. “I bet we could arrange it.”
“Thanks. They even have pillowcases with his face on them.” He chortled, shaking his head. “Like Elvis or something.”
“Right.” Getting restless, I put the truck in drive again. If my dad was left alone on a job too long, he’d either do something dangerous like climb a ladder to check someone’s gutters (for free), which made him dizzy, or waste time chatting away with the homeowner, adding on to the hours I’d have to spend finishing the work we’d been hired to do. “Well, I should get going, but next time I talk to Dash, I’ll mention it.”
“Thanks.” Gus thumped the driver’s side door of my truck. “Have a good one, Austin.”
“You too.”
Sure enough, when I arrived at the address and went around back, Dad was standing out on the homeowner’s dock, holding a cup of coffee and nodding along as the homeowner chattered away gesturing toward his boat. Dad smiled and waved to me, but made no move toward the deck that needed refinishing, and I waved back before getting to work by myself.
In the back of my mind, I imagined what it would be like to spend a whole day working on my own projects, to be free to go after what I really wanted to do, the way my siblings were. Xander with his bar. Devlin with his pricey real estate deals. Dash with his movie career. Mabel with her treasure hunts.
But they were different from me. Their situations were different. They didn’t have kids, and they didn’t remember—maybe they’d just been too young to appreciate—how hard our dad had worked to raise us on his own after our mom was gone. They didn’t understand how fully he’d supported me when I announced I was about to become a father of two, insisting we move in with him so he could help out.
I owed it to him to keep the family business alive and keep quiet about what I wanted for myself. And I owed it to my kids to be the kind of father they deserved. If that meant deferring my own dream, so be it.