5. Butterfly

Ihad no reason to be nervous about seeing Blair Dumont again, but I was. Maybe it was more that seeing my father always made me anxious.

I couldn’t predict how he’d react to the news that his girlfriend had gone to the same boarding school as me at the same time I had. Maybe he already knew. But if that were the case, wouldn’t he have mentioned it? Frankly, Blair was a couple of years older than the last woman he’d married, so it wasn’t like he was trying to hide her age.

By the time we got through the queue at the rental counter, it was shortly after noon on a beautiful day by LA standards. The Santa Ana winds didn’t typically commence until later in September, but when our flight had landed from the opposite direction it normally did, I knew they were blowing. The nicest thing about the warm breeze was that it pushed the smog inland, so the skies were clear, and you could see for miles. It made me understand why so many had flocked to the state back before overpopulation and the number of vehicles on the road changed the visible landscape.

“We have a few hours. What would you like to do?” Brand asked.

We’d rented a convertible, so I suggested we put the top down and drive south, since tomorrow we’d be heading north. “Maybe we should figure out where we’re going to stay tonight first.”

“Maybe we should wing it.”

I laughed out loud when his left eyebrow raised. “Yeah, it happens when it’s a good secret too.”

Brand lowered his head and shook it, but he was smiling. “I already took care of it.”

“Fabulous.” I sat back in my seat. “Do you need me to navigate, or do you know where you’re going?”

He turned toward me. “You don’t want to know where we’re staying?”

“You meant for it to be a surprise. I’m good with that.”

We tookthe freeway as far as Seal Beach, then drove to the coast, deciding to stop for lunch in Newport Beach. At this time of year, the weather was slightly cooler and kids were back in school, so the beaches weren’t crowded, and it was easy to find somewhere to park.

I took him to a place at the end of the pier famous for its chili. I liked it because they served breakfast all day and we could sit outside, watching the surfers trek along the boardwalk and the dory boats coming in after spending the morning catching the fish they’d sell to restaurants this afternoon.

“It seems like you know a lot about this place,” Brand said while we waited for the food we’d ordered to arrive.

“This is where my mom’s family is from. I used to visit when I was a kid, before my grandmother died.”

“I don’t remember you talking about it.”

“We didn’t come very often, which shouldn’t be a surprise, knowing my mother. Actually, you don’t, do you?”

Brand shook his head. “Never had the pleasure.”

“It wouldn’t have been,” I muttered under my breath. “Anyway, Oma—that’s what I call her—lived in a bungalow about four blocks from here. It’s probably been leveled so someone could build a god-awful monstrosity in its place.”

“When were you last here?”

“Right before she died. I think I was fourteen. While both my grandmothers were loving, she was more so. I remember finding it surprising since my mom didn’t seem to inherit the same parental gene Oma possessed.”

“How did she die?”

“You know, I’m not sure. I guess I always assumed it was because she was old. Now that I think about it, she couldn’t have been much over sixty.”

After we finished lunch,Brand asked if I wanted to take a walk down the boardwalk. I was hesitant at first. While I expected the bungalow to be long gone, I wasn’t sure I wanted to see what had replaced it.

“Oh my gosh,” I exclaimed when we reached Sixteenth Street and I saw it was still there, looking almost exactly like it had the last time I saw it thirteen years ago. Even the flower garden looked the same. It was such a disparity from the yard-less houses surrounding it.

“Hello,” said an older gentleman who walked out of the screened-in porch when he saw us standing near the fence.

“Sorry to be nosy, but your home is beautiful. How long have you lived here?”

“Going on fourteen years. I used to have a place a few houses from the beach, but when this one came up for sale, I was the first in line.”

“This used to be my grandmother’s.”

“Blanche Allen. She was a good friend of my wife’s. Mine too. Do you want to come in? I haven’t changed much. I always liked the way Blanche decorated.”

“Thank you, but no. I’d rather keep the other memories, if that makes sense.”

The man smiled. “I understand. Hang on just a minute. I have something I think might belong to you.”

He rushed inside before I could tell him not to. He was back less than a minute later, holding a picture frame in his hand. “If I’m not mistaken, this is you with Blanche.”

The photo he handed me was taken on the beach just a few yards from where we stood. Oma and I were building a sandcastle. “It is me,” I said, my eyes filling with tears, and I attempted to give it back to him.

He shook his head. “That’s yours to keep, young lady. I found it not too long ago in a box I guess was missed all these years way back in the closet.”

I held it close to me. “We should be going, but thank you so much.”

“My pleasure. Name’s Charlie Farman. If you visit again when you have more time, I’ll take you to lunch. My family has a place near the pier.”

I smiled through my tears. “We just ate there. It’s always been one of my favorite spots.”

Mr. Farman beamed, then waved when we left after thanking him again.

“Amazing,” I heard Brand say when we were a few feet down the boardwalk.

“What’s that?”

“As I said earlier, I never met your mom. However, I’d be willing to bet you’re a lot more like Oma than her.”

“Interesting how it seems to skip generations. If I ever have kids, I hope they aren’t as much like my mother or father as I am like Oma.”

Brand put his arm around my shoulder. “They won’t be. We’ll make sure of it.”

I knew he was joking, but his words made me happy anyway.

“I can’t letmy dad make changes to the Fire Island property. Or sell it. After seeing Oma’s place and how happy it makes me that it still looks the same, I have to intervene. I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t,” I said much later when we pulled up to the valet stand at Musso and Frank’s.

Before he could respond, Brand’s cell rang. “It’s Doc,” he said, accepting the call. “Hey, Penelope and I were about to meet up with Harold.”

“Glad I caught you before you did. I just sent you an email that will change the outcome of your conversation.”

I was seated close enough to hear every word Doc said.

“How?” I mouthed, which Brand repeated to him.

Doc laughed. “Take a look and see for yourselves.”

The call abruptly ended, but we remained in the car while Brand pulled up the email.

My mouth hung open when I read the contents of the letter Doc had forwarded. “Do you think this is true?” I asked him.

Brand shrugged. “Let’s go inside. I can’t wait to find out.”

While Blair was an actress,she hadn’t had enough time to prepare in order to mask her reaction when our eyes met.

“Hi, Daddy,” I said, approaching the table with my hand in Brand’s. I never called him that, but with the nugget of information contained in the email, I couldn’t help but be a little smug.

“Sweetheart, what a surprise!” he exclaimed, even though we all knew it wasn’t.

Conveniently, he and Blair were seated at a four-top, so when Brand pulled out the chair beside her for me, I took it.

“So, Daddy, I’m surprised you didn’t mention Blair and I already knew each other.”

“Blair?” he asked, looking from me to her.

When she nodded and attempted a smile, I thought for sure she was considering rushing to the restroom or maybe even out of the restaurant.

“We were at the Emma Stanley Academy together.” I studied her face. The amount of plastic surgery she’d had was apparent. “I guess we’ve both changed a lot since then, but I still recognize you.”

Blair pulled herself together. “Your father never mentioned you to me, either. What a coincidence this is.”

My eyes met Brand’s, then I looked at my dad. It was equally apparent he had mentioned me.

Knowing I couldn’t stomach much more of him or her, I got right to the point. “So, I understand you have some ideas for my place on Fire Island.”

“Pen, we talked about this. I told you I had only been thinking about giving it to you. It still belongs to me, and whatever I choose to do with it is my decision.”

“Actually, it isn’t.”

My father wadded his napkin and tossed it on the table. “This isn’t the time or place for you to act out, Penelope. We’ll discuss this later, in private.”

Brand cleared his throat. “Hi, um, Blair, is it?”

“I go by Hailey now.”

He turned to my father almost as if he hadn’t heard her. “Good to see you again, Harold.”

“Who are you?”

“Dad!” I feigned a gasp. “Surely, you remember Brando Ripa.”

“Ripa? Why does that name sound familiar?”

“I’m Tara Clarkson’s half brother. I haven’t been around much lately. I’ve been in prison.” He glanced at Blair and smiled.

“What is this all about?” my father spat.

“Go ahead, Brand. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Harold, a few minutes ago, you said the place on Fire Island belongs to you. Actually, it doesn’t.”

“This is preposterous.” My father stood. “Come on, Hailey. Let’s get out of here.”

Brand continued talking as if my dad hadn’t said a word. “The property located at 1 Atlantic Walk in Patchogue, New York, will be held in trust for our granddaughter, Penelope Ramsey, by her father, Harold Ramsey, until such time as she reaches the age of twenty-five when the deed will automatically transfer to her.”

I folded my arms and looked at my father’s girlfriend. “So, as I said, it belongs to me. What were the ideas you had? Something about fixing it up and flipping it?”

“You always were a bitch,” Blair seethed before standing and attempting to take my father’s hand. However, he pulled away from her.

I looked her up and down. “At least I have all my original body parts. Looks like you’ve done a little fixing up yourself.”

“Penelope, I’m taking Hailey home. You and I will discuss this tomorrow.”

I shook my head. “We’re leaving tonight, Dad, and from what Brand read to you, it doesn’t appear there’s anything for us to talk about.” I looked at Blair a second time. “I’d say it was nice to see you, but it hasn’t been. I’ve no doubt you feel the same way.”

I remained seated, as did Brand, until they left. Seconds later, the waiter approached the table.

“Would you care to order anything while you wait for the rest of your party to return?”

“They won’t be, and we already ate, so no, thanks.”

The man sputtered something about the check and pulled the waiter’s wallet from his waistband.

“Sorry. I can’t help with that. You might have some luck if you let the paparazzi out front know Hailey Watson skipped out on her bill.”