17. Eddie

H is head felt weird on the walk back to Coquina House. Well, he’d just lost about seven inches of hair and there was no ponytail pulling at his scalp. But that didn’t really explain how light and free Eddie felt just then.

He shook his head and ran his hand through the short hair as he walked along the shore, the sand between his toes, the fading light guiding him along a route he already knew by heart. Yeah, weird, but not because of his hair.

On a groan that came from his chest, he paused and looked out at the horizon, struck as always by how different the Atlantic Ocean was from his beloved Pacific. The West Coast wasn’t “pacific” at all—this was. The waves didn’t crash here, they rolled in like slow, steady breaths. The Atlantic—at least down here in the Keys—was as sweet and tender and calming as the woman he’d just left.

The woman he was absolutely and undeniably falling in love with.

How was that for life’s big, fat irony? A woman he could have easily been with for fifty-seven years and?—

“Hey, Pops.”

He turned at the sound of Jazz’s voice, not expecting to see her at the Beach Table where it all began. She lifted a glass of champagne and beckoned him closer.

And not have had her or Mel. So whoever ran this crazy planet probably knew what they were doing after all. Still, the what-ifs of life really made him nuts sometimes.

“Hey, Jazz. You look comfy.”

“Mel just ran up to get some appetizers that Beck— Whoa! Where is your hair?” She practically shot out of her chair.

“On the cutting room floor or, beach. You like?” He ruffled what was left of it.

“I love! Hang on.” She picked up her phone. “I’ll text Mel to bring you lemonade. Please, please, please join us.”

“No need to ‘please’ me three times,” he said, walking toward the boardwalk. “I’d love to share your cocktail hour. How was your day?”

She lifted a brow while she thumbed a text with the same lightning speed as Lark or Kai. “Not as good as yours.”

“What makes you say that?”

She just laughed and pointed to his hair. “Sea change.”

“Oh!” He threw his hands in the air. “Beautiful. Perfect title. Just perfect.”

Still smiling, she looked at her phone. “She’s on her way. She has ordered that you give no deets until she arrives.” Putting down the phone, she propped her elbows on the table and gazed at him. “Wow. A whole new you.”

“You should see Lovely.” He pulled out one of four chairs and sat down, giving his head one more shake. “Yeah, I like it.”

“You like her ,” she said.

He just smiled.

“Sorry, no deets, per Mel’s request,” Jazz said.

“All right, I’ll hold on,” he agreed, but he really did want to talk about his feelings. “How was your day?”

“Much, much too good,” she said, her features set in a soft expression he couldn’t remember seeing since…grade school.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

She let out a noisy sigh and threw open her arms.

“I love this place!” she exclaimed, making him laugh. “I love vacation. I love relaxing. I love doing nothing. I don’t even know how this happened to me, but I am not waiting another ten or twenty years to take time off.”

“That’s great, Jazz.” He beamed at her, always loving when either of his daughters grew and matured. It was a comfort he couldn’t explain. “Why don’t you back off at the firm and find more time for yourself?”

“I might,” she said. “I very well might do that and?—”

“Hey, who are you?” From behind him, he heard Mel’s voice, making him turn. “Who stole my dad and replaced him with a short-haired Boomer?”

“Another long-haired Boomer.” He stood to help her with the tray, laden with cheese, crackers, a large goblet of white wine, and an equally sizeable glass of Lovely’s lemonade. Just looking at it made him miss her and he almost suggested he go get her so she could enjoy this impromptu party with them.

But he’d essentially ignored his girls on this trip, and he did want some time alone with them. They always helped him work things out.

“What did I miss, other than your new look?” Mel asked, ruffling his hair before taking a seat. “This was so long overdue.”

“What? You didn’t like my long hair?”

Mel and Jazz shared a look that spoke volumes that could be summed up in one word: No.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

“Because you liked it,” Mel said. “You needed to recapture your rock ‘n’ roll youth. And now, you’ve done that with Lovely, so you can let go of never having been on the cover of Tiger Beat .”

“ Tiger Beat ? Who said anything about that rag?”

Jazz pointed a finger. “You, frequently. Do you know how often you remind us that you weren’t on the cover of that teen magazine all those years ago?”

He snorted and shook his head before taking a deep drink. “Man, the slings and arrows are flying down here. Maybe I should go talk to Beck. You know, my other daughter? The one who likes and respects me?”

“We love and respect you,” Mel assured him. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t tease you. Anyway, Beck went to see Peyton.”

“Everything okay?”

“Mini contractions,” Jazz said. “Probably false. Let’s get back to Lovely. Before Mel came down, we were talking about how much you like her.”

“No, we were talking about how much you like it here,” he corrected. “I was told to wait for Mel before talking about my lady.”

“Your lady …” Mel dragged out the word.

“Well, ‘girlfriend’ seems kind of ridiculous at our age.”

“And after a week,” Jazz added.

He didn’t answer that, just smiled and took a sip. Then he exhaled, and looked from one to the other.

“Girls, when you know, you know. Time has no meaning.” Although, to be fair, time had all the meaning right now. The only thing that mattered was the future, and how little there was left of it.

“When you know, huh?” Jazz tapped her fingers and looked expectantly at him. “What do you know?”

“I’m in love with her.” It was so easy to admit, it had to be true.

“Does she know that?” Mel asked.

“Are you sure?” Jazz said right over her.

“No and yes,” he replied. “I haven’t told her, but I have asked her to consider moving to California.” Now, they looked shocked, making him laugh. “You barely blink an eye when I say I’m in love, but I suggest she move, and you look like I suggested we all take off for the moon.”

“Well, it would be easier,” Mel replied. “Dad, she’s not going to California.” She waited a beat. “ Is she?”

He leaned back and glanced at the water and sky, the sand and setting sun—the only home Lovely had ever known.

“She didn’t seem too keen on the idea,” he finally said. “She’s lived here her whole life and has spent most of it pining for Beck. Now they’re together, running Coquina House, and she has oodles of grandkids and extended family, so…”

With each word he said, he knew how absolutely ridiculous it was to expect her to leave.

“And you have a great life in California,” Mel reminded him. “I mean, if you’re thinking about living here, you have to remember your grandchildren, two incredible homes, extended family, and the business that you built from nothing and still control as chairman emeritus.”

“I do remember all of that,” he promised her. “So if she’d move there…” But even as he said the words, they sounded like he was banking on winning the lottery. The odds were not in his favor.

Mel leaned in. “If she feels the same way about you, Dad, maybe she will.”

“I just told you all the reasons she won’t. Beck is here?—”

“For now,” Jazz said. At his surprised look, she shrugged. “We’ve talked a lot about her relationship with Oliver and you know what he wants? To split their time fifty-fifty between Coconut Key and Australia. Apparently, he has a beach house in some place I’ve never heard of and loves it there as much as she loves it here.”

“And she’d do that?” For some reason, that really stunned Eddie. Everything he could see about Beck’s life was rooted on this island. “What about Coquina House?”

“Someone could run the B&B for them,” Mel said, flicking her hand.

“Or they could sell it,” Jazz added.

Mel nodded. “True, they already have an offer on the table.”

He looked from one to the other. “Does Lovely know that?”

“I don’t think so,” Mel said. “Beck refuses to even consider the offer. The house has been in her family forever and she and Lovely put their heart and soul—and Beck’s whole divorce settlement—into remodeling it.”

“You’ve gotten to know her more than I have,” he said, hearing a note of sadness in his voice. “I came here to do just that, and I’ve been…”

“Distracted,” Jazz supplied. “It’s okay. You and Lovely had a lot of catching up to do. And we have spent quality time with Beck. As far as the offer? I’m with the real estate agent who said, ‘Everyone has a number.’”

“Beck won’t sell,” Mel said. “She was absolutely clear about it.”

“But, just for argument’s sake,” Jazz said. “If there was an offer that was, say, crazy high, then Beck would be free to live her fifty-fifty life with her Aussie. And …Lovely would be able to leave without the guilt of abandoning her business.”

Eddie shook his head. “I think what keeps Lovely on this sand is far more than a business. Coconut Key is her heart, soul, life, and love.”

“What if you were all those things to her?” Jazz asked.

“Well, if I were, I’d be the happiest man alive,” he admitted. “But I’m not and I doubt I ever will be.”

“Don’t doubt, Pops,” Jazz said, patting his hand.

He didn’t doubt. He knew. Lovely wasn’t leaving Coconut Key and he wasn’t moving here, so their little romance, as perfect as it was, would come to an end eventually.

Unless one of them had a… sea change .

He reached up and touched his short hair. “Well, you know, anything can happen,” he said.

“Or you can make it happen,” Jazz murmured.

But she was just young enough to believe that was true. At seventy-six, he didn’t know everything, but he knew that he couldn’t make things happen just because he wanted them to.

If that were true, Lani would still be alive or he’d have made the cover of Tiger Beat or…Lovely would come running down that beach calling his name and saying, “Yes!”

He looked down the sand and squinted into the fading light, but no one was there.

Wide awake at two a.m., Eddie finally threw off his covers and shook off the attempts at sleep. With his mind churning and uncertain, he sat on the edge of the bed and tunneled his fingers into his hair, not used to the feeling of it stopping so much sooner than he expected.

Not used to any of these feelings, to be honest.

He sat up straighter at a sound in the house, which was normally like a tomb. Water running? A dish on the counter? Way too early for someone to be preparing breakfast, but one of his three daughters—still getting used to that new number—must also have insomnia.

Whoever it was, Eddie wanted the company.

He opened the door slowly and glanced toward the stairs that led to the third floor where Mel and Jazz slept, seeing only darkness at the top. Padding downstairs, he noticed the owner’s suite door was open, spilling enough light for him to easily find his way to the kitchen.

“Don’t want to scare you,” he called softly as he approached. “It’s just me.”

“Oh, Eddie, hello.” Beck sat at the farmhouse table with a cup in front of her, the room lit only by a soft light over the stove and some moonbeams in the window. “Whoa!” She straightened and pointed to his hair. “You’re a new man!”

“I kind of am,” he said, giving the hair a quick finger comb. “You like?”

“I love!”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me—you hate long hair and ponytails on men but would never tell me for fear of hurting my feelings?”

“Um…yeah?”

He snorted a laugh. “Why aren’t the women in my life honest with me?”

“Because they care about you,” she answered without hesitation, then lifted her brows to ask, “What are you doing up at this hour?”

“Couldn’t sleep. You?”

“I just talked to Oliver. It’s the middle of the day down there and he texted me a photo. I woke up and couldn’t resist calling him.” She pointed to her cup. “Can I get you a cup of decaffeinated green tea? It’ll help you sleep.”

“Sounds yummy,” he said, only mildly skeptical. “I can make it, Beck.”

She nodded, directed him to a drawer full of various flavored teas that all sounded like flowers and good health. He went with her recommendation, heating up the water in a comfortable silence that felt right for the middle of the night.

“Oh.” He turned when he remembered why he hadn’t seen her all evening. “No news with Peyton? I guess you’d have mentioned it.”

She shook her head. “Braxton Hicks, which is baby language for false alarm. She didn’t go to the hospital or anything, but it’ll be soon, I think. Everything about her has changed. She’s slow and settled, nesting like a mama bird, all ready.”

“I like her husband,” he said. “How did they meet?”

“Val used to bring the fish to Jessie’s restaurant, back when it was Chuck’s. It was Peyton’s first cooking job.”

He turned and leaned against the counter. “Ah, yes, the diner used to be called Chuck’s, after Jessie’s husband. Lovely told me that wild story.”

“It was wild, all right. Chuck was believed dead at sea and Jessie was a deeply sad widow.”

“And he was in St. Barts the whole time?” Eddie shook his head. “With amnesia? A gunshot victim?”

“Yep. It was quite the event around here when he showed up and then he helped the FBI bring in a money-launderer.”

“That’s pretty high drama for this place.” He reached for the steaming teapot. “Oh, let me get this before the whistle wakes the girls upstairs.”

“The girls.” She laughed. “That’s such a Dad thing to say.”

“That’s me. Dad to Mel. Pops to Jazz.” He poured the water, bounced the bag, and carried the cup to the table, ecstatic at the quiet, private opportunity. “What would you like to call me, Beck?”

She screwed up her face, which looked young and sweet without any makeup. “Ever since Lovely told me the story, I’ve always thought of you as Ned.”

He gave a quick laugh as he sat, then lifted his mug. “Then here’s to Beck and Ned’s very first father-daughter chat in the middle of the night. May it be fruitful, fun, and not the last.”

“Aww.” She tapped his cup with hers, a sparkle in her green eyes as she gazed at him. “You do have such a way with words. I understand why you’re a songwriter.”

“Didn’t have enough of a way with words today,” he admitted, blowing on the tea, which was far too hot to drink.

“How so?”

He shook his head, not quite ready to delve into that yet. “How’s Oliver?” he asked instead.

“He’s good, but…” She inhaled deeply and looked out toward the darkness, maybe not ready to delve into her insomnia cause, either. But his years of being a dad taught him that sometimes you had to press.

“He misses you?” he suggested gently. “And Coconut Key?”

“Yes, but he loves Wollongong.”

“His pet kangaroo?” he joked, making her almost choke on a sip of tea. He’d also learned that humor went a long way with his daughters.

“Wollongong is where his beach house is. Have you been ‘Down Under’?”

“I’ve been to Sydney and Melbourne,” he said. “Honestly? Unless you’re in the Outback, it feels pretty, well, American. At least it did to me. Where’s Wollon…goner?”

“An hour or so from Sydney. It’s a mountain and beach paradise that, yes, does look a lot like California, at least from the picture. Extremely picturesque and dramatic. His house isn’t big, but the views are stunning and the surrounding area is just…” She let out a slow and wistful breath. “Anyway, he wants me to go there, and I’d love to, but not with Peyton days from delivery and Savannah hot on her heels.”

“There’ll be months between those babies,” he said.

“Months when this B&B will be full and my oldest will have a new baby and my mother will need me and…” She flicked her hand. “It doesn’t matter. What Oliver really wants is for me to live there half the year, and we’d live here the other half.”

“What’s wrong with that plan?” he asked, not wanting to reveal that his girls had already shared this with him.

“I don’t want to live on the other side of the world for six months a year,” she said simply. “My family and home and business and life are right here in Coconut Key. I only just got here two years ago, as you know. I don’t want to leave, not even part-time. I’ll visit, but…” She grimaced. “Nah. Not leaving.”

He gave a dry laugh. “There’s a lot of that going around.”

“There is?”

He took a drink of the tea, now cool enough for him to—well, not exactly enjoy the taste. But appreciate the greenness of it. “Lovely won’t leave, either.”

“I should hope—” She caught herself, freezing mid-sentence. “Have you asked her to?”

“I did,” he said, not surprised to see the flash of horror in her eyes. “But fear not. She turned me down.”

“Well… yeah . She’s lived here all her life and has known you for, what, ten days?” Her voice was tight enough that she could barely ask the question.

“The older you get, the faster time goes,” he said.

She put her cup down and looked hard at him. “Talk to me in real words and not lyrics, Ned. Did you seriously ask my mother to leave with you?”

He studied her for a minute, liking that little bit of fire she kept back from the world. The mama bear in her—or, in this case, the daughter cub—was strong and admirable.

“Fair enough,” he said, digging for clear and straightforward words that didn’t sound like platitudes or poetry. “I’m falling in love with her. Might already be. I think it’s mutual and what I’m saying about time is that it whizzes by a little faster every year. We’re not young, Lovely and me. If we wait, or try to see each other long-distance, or just let these emotions die on the vine, I believe it will be one of the biggest regrets of both our lives.”

“Are you serious ?” she whispered, her face going bloodless.

“I am,” he said.

“But…but…you fall in love easily,” she said. “Mel told me that.”

He laughed softly. “She’s officially the bad daughter now. I am not one who, uh, runs from a relationship. I’m probably the opposite of a commitment-phobe, but that doesn’t mean I don’t really feel it. I have been alone for several years, and unmarried for many. I’d like to change that.”

Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. “You want to marry Lovely?”

He hadn’t put that into words—not yet. But wasn’t that the very reason he was thrashing around upstairs, unable to sleep? “I want to…not live without her. Whatever that means.”

“That means you move to Coconut Key, court her properly, and make sure she’s one hundred percent on board.”

He smiled. “Goodness, you love her.”

“More than anything or anyone,” she fired back. “Or certainly as much as my kids. She’s wonderful .”

“I know,” he said. “And she’s never been in love…yet.”

“Stop it. This isn’t a song. This isn’t a game. This isn’t…fair.”

Suddenly, he felt his shoulders sink, punched by the panic in her voice. This was his daughter, despite being a stranger. And he had no right or desire to cause her any pain or discomfort.

“I’m sorry, Beck. I don’t want to freak you out.”

“Too late.” She leaned across the table to make her point. “You cannot take my mother away from me.”

He opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again, a lifetime of empathy making it entirely possible to see this from her point of view instead of his. And, once again, he reminded himself that this woman was his daughter .

He owed her the same level of sacrifice and selfless love he’d showered on Mel and Jazz.

“Then let’s forget we ever had this conversation,” he said gruffly.

“Not likely.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m being selfish,” he whispered. “I want my own happiness—and Lovely’s—but I forgot about you in that equation. I’m very sorry. As your father, that’s the wrong call on my part.”

“Well, I mean…I get that you like her,” she conceded, visibly touched by his words. “It’s just awfully late in both your lives to make a change like that, isn’t it?”

“I guess I was thinking it was awfully late in both our lives not to make a change like that. How can we ignore the unexpected and delightful possibility of meeting and loving and someday dying next to…‘the one’?”

Her eyes filled as she stared at him. “Lovely has never…” She tried to swallow, but her voice cracked. “Lovely has never known that. Not ever, not once.”

“I know.”

“She’s lived a solitary life and spent so, so many years apart from me, her only daughter. She kept her vow of silence, which is what stood in her way of falling in love.”

“It is,” he said. “She told me that keeping her secret meant she couldn’t completely give her heart and soul to anyone. I feel awful she carried that burden alone.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she replied. “It was my moth— Olivia. She forced that promise in writing, and Lovely would have taken it to the grave, but…well, you know. She almost went to that grave, but God sent her back to this life so she could create this unbelievable bond with me.”

He reached over the table, his heart breaking with every word. “Beck, I?—”

“Or maybe…” She pulled her hand out from under his and pressed it to her lips. “Oh. Maybe he sent her back…for you .” The words came out on a strangled sob.

“Oh, Beck!” He shot up and around the table, reaching for her. “Don’t cry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I shouldn’t have imagined you’d?—”

“But if you are her person, her one and only?” she managed to ask. “What if you’re the reason she was sent back?”

He just looked at her, not wanting to hurt her any more than this conversation already had. “Beck, I?—”

“Can’t you come here?” she asked, easing him away to look into his eyes. “We would love that! You could be part of this family, and I’d have both my biological parents here!”

The magnitude and impossibility of what she was asking rocked him so hard, he almost lost his balance. Just thinking about the number of people he’d disappoint and miss—no, he couldn’t.

“I would cause the same pain on the other coast,” he said gruffly. “My grandchildren, my daughters… No, we haven’t spent decades apart, as you and Lovely have, but we are a unit like you’d never believe. I don’t… I can’t…”

After a moment, he eased into the chair next to her, finally seeing the mess he’d gotten into and the fact that his needs were just making it worse.

“I should leave,” he muttered.

“Leave…go back to bed or…”

“I should leave Coconut Key. Before things get…deeper. Before Lovely and I say the words we’re both already feeling. Before you shed one more tear. I’ll leave early and I’m sure?—”

She grabbed his hand. “No, no. Not yet. You don’t have that many days left. Please don’t just disappear, it would break her heart. Give me a chance to talk to her, to think this through, to imagine…a different life.”

“That’s not what you want,” he said.

“But I don’t want…” She held up her hand, working to gather her composure. “I really don’t want to stand in my mother’s way of having something…” She moaned softly. “Something she’s longed for her whole life. I’ve heard her say things here and there—about fated mates or one true loves. I’ve heard the melancholy regret in her voice, always comforted by the fact that she’d found me…if not…if not you. But now…there’s you.”

He took her hand and wrapped it between both of his, feeling an indescribable connection with this dear woman. She had inherited something of his, he decided. That soft spot. That need to please the ones she loved. A level of compassion that sometimes got him in trouble but mostly made him a better person.

“Then give me time, too,” he said softly. “Let me talk to Mel and Jazz and do the same kind of reimagining, Beck. Maybe there’s a solution we’ve both missed.”

“Maybe my mother and I both have to live six months at a time in different places.”

He shrugged, not a huge fan of that option, but not wanting to kick doors closed just yet.

“I am sorry that I missed witnessing you grow up, Beck,” he admitted. “Lovely has told me what you were like as a little girl before Olivia took you away. I wish so much that I’d been there for you. For her, too.”

She smiled. “I know. You’re a good man, Ned.”

“Not even close,” he replied, feeling the sting of guilt he hadn’t even known he should have felt these last fifty-seven years.

“You are,” she said. “I can see you’re genuine and you don’t want to hurt anyone and you really, really care about Lovely.”

“And you,” he added. “You are my daughter, Rebecca. If I had been more responsible or Lovely hadn’t left without giving me her number, you would have grown up Rebecca Sylvester and I would have been so incredibly proud to be your father.”

She let out a choke, half laugh, half sob. “Really?”

“I’d have married Lovely if I’d known there was a child. At least I like to think I would have. But who knows? Lots of roads not taken.”

She squeezed his hand. “We’re standing at an intersection of a few right now,” she said. “We have to decide which to take, and which to pass. I don’t want to make a mistake, though. I want everyone to be happy.”

“Sometimes that isn’t possible,” he said.

“Then I want Lovely to be happy,” she replied, almost giving it no thought. “Of all of us, she’s the one who deserves it the most.”

“I agree,” he said. “And she knows where I stand—sort of. You talk to her, Beck. You and Lovely decide what you want to do. I’ll accept whatever that decision is and figure out a way to have both of you in my life.”

“But not quite the way you want.”

“At the risk of going too far too fast,” he said, “I don’t think I’ll have what I want until she vows to love, honor, and cherish me until death do us part. I know it really is fast and I’m willing to do the work to get there, but honestly, Beck? I love that woman and want to spend the rest of my life showing her that love.”

She closed her eyes as if he’d hit her. “Oh. She deserves that,” she whispered. “No one deserves it more.”

Yes , he thought, she does . But he didn’t want to make things worse, so he just leaned in and gave Beck a kiss on the head.

“You’re a good daughter. Good night. Thank you for the tea and company.”

With that, he stood and left her, maybe in worse shape than when he’d found her. And, as her father, that broke his heart.