“Would it have mattered?”
“Once people know where your weakness is, they can hurt you, so yes, it mattered.”
He wanted to tell her that not everyone was like her father. That there were still plenty of people out there who would have sympathized and supported. Maybe even restored a little of her faith in human nature.
She leaned back. “You’re a good cook. Your mom would be proud.”
“Your mom must be, too. How is she doing? They’re not still together?”
“No. They got divorced the year Harriet and I left home. Daniel helped her. She moved back here for a while to live with Grams. For a while I was worried about her. She seemed listless. I guess she’d been with my dad for so long it was hard for her to contemplate a life without him. But then suddenly she seemed to blossom. It was like watching a completely different person. She was full of the things she was going to do and the places she was going to see. She volunteered in Africa for a while. Earlier in the year she went to South America with friends she met at a support group she attended. Now she’s in Antarctica. It’s as if she’s trying to make up for lost time. How about your mom?”
“She’s doing a little better, considering, but she’s lost a lot of weight—” he paused “—and most of all she has lost her smile. She used to smile a lot, and now you can tell she only does it to make an effort, to stop us worrying. It’s a huge adjustment. And it was a shock. Unexpected. It’s going to take a while for her to be comfortable in a life that doesn’t have my dad in it. It’s hard on her.”
“And hard on you, too.” She reached across and took his hand. The gesture was spontaneous, and he knew that if she’d thought it through she probably wouldn’t have done it because it revealed quite clearly that she still felt something for him. The warmth in her eyes thawed the places inside him that had felt frozen for months.
“It’s been very hard.”
“You’re the man of the house.”
“In a way.” He curled his fingers over hers, not wanting to lose the contact. “And talking of the house, we’re selling it.”
“Oh.” Her eyes darkened with sympathy. “That’s tough. I know how you love that place.”
“Yes. But it’s what my mother wants. There are too many memories there.”
“And you find those comforting, while she finds them distressing?”
He wondered how she could see that so clearly when people who were closer to him, his sister, for example, failed to understand.
“She’s trying to start creating a few positive memories that don’t have him in it. That’s the only way not to constantly view the world as if something is missing. It’s the reason the family aren’t joining me here this summer. They’ve rented cabins by a lake in Vermont.”
“Something different.” She nodded. “Have you spoken to a Realtor about selling the house?”
“Not yet. I was going to do that this week, but Chase thinks he may know a private buyer who is interested. Cash.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Only Chase would have a friendship circle that includes someone who could buy that house for cash.”
“I get the sense he’s a business associate rather than a friend.”
She was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, Seth. And I’m sorry I didn’t get in touch when it happened. If I’d known—”
“What? You would have pretended to be Harriet and called me?”
“Maybe I would have. I don’t know. I don’t know what I would have done, and whatever it was I probably would have messed that up, too. But for what it’s worth, I really am sorry. Your dad was a good man.” She pulled her hand away from his, and he resisted the temptation to snatch it back.
“And I’m lucky to have had him. Given what you’ve been through with yours, I shouldn’t be complaining.”
“Of course you should. You’ve lost something irreplaceable. Something truly special and valuable.”
“Are you in touch with your father?”
She dropped her gaze, her expression unreadable. “No.”
“Then you’ve lost something, too.”
“You can’t lose something you never had.” She stood up quickly. “I’ll clean up, and then I should go.”
“Wait—” He reached out and caught her wrist before she could pick up a plate. “Leave that. It’s a beautiful evening. Let’s walk.”