Chapter 28

The following morning, I was still riding the high from the previous evening as I sat in front of my computer. I'd been trying to get work done for the past hour, but my mind kept drifting off, thoughts of Jolie taking up every available space in my brain.

I managed to muddle my way through a conference call and video meeting without letting on that I hadn't paid a damn bit of attention. It was so out of character that if any of my colleagues had noticed, they probably would have called for a psych evaluation. I didn't give a shit. For the first time in longer than I could remember, I was actually happy, and it was all because of her.

After my revelation the night before, I'd decided I was staying in Pembrooke. Moving operations for my company from the city to somewhere much smaller and more rural would be a pain in the ass, but being close to Jolie was worth it. I knew she worried about how fast things were moving between us, so I'd decided to keep that to myself for the time being. However, making the decision for myself had lifted a weight off my chest. It just felt... right.

My phone chimed with an incoming text from my father.

Dad: Just checking to see if you're still available to take me to my final appointment this afternoon.

That was yet another thing to be happy about. Today was the day, my father's last chemotherapy treatment.

I typed out a quick reply.

Me: I'll be there.

I had Jolie. I had this town. And I had a father on the mend. I was convinced there wasn't anything or anyone who could bring me down. I hit send as my doorbell rang. Pocketing my phone, I headed for the front door, assuming it was my weekly grocery delivery. But when I pulled it open, the very last person I expected to see stood across the threshold, and all that light and happiness I'd been holding on to only a moment earlier began to shrivel in her presence.

"Mother. What . . . what are you doing here?"

This couldn't be happening. Not when things were finally starting to go right for me.

Estelle hadn't changed one bit since the last time I saw her. She still wore that hard, unflinching expression that made her look like the unhappiest person on the planet. Her hair was still cut into the same fashionable bob she'd worn for years, religiously colored every six weeks to prevent any gray hair from peeking through. Like me, she didn't have much of a need for casual clothes, choosing to dress in skirts or pants suits worn with heels of a reasonable height. She hadn't changed, no, and that same dark cloud she dragged behind her everywhere she went had currently followed her to my front porch, the goddamn thing big enough to block out every bit of sunshine that had finally started to brighten the dark corners inside of me.

"Is that any way to greet the woman who raised you?"

I lifted my brows, a sound of sarcasm escaping from my throat. "I don't know. Maybe when you find that woman you can ask her, because it certainly wasn't you."

She didn't even flinch, not that I expected her to. She was made of ice, after all. "Are you going to stand there blocking the way or let me in? I traveled quite a way to see you, after all."

I stepped aside, granting her entrance even though every fiber of my being rebelled against it. Nothing good could come from her being here, but it was difficult not to fall into old patterns.

"I don't recall asking you to come for a visit, so please don't act as if you're doing me a favor by being here." I moved into the kitchen, the clack of her heels against the floor as she followed me, putting my teeth on edge.

"That's where you're wrong. I believe I am doing you a favor. It seems your time in this... town—"she made a derisive curl of her top lip—"has clouded your judgement. I was having lunch with Evelyn Beaumont last week, and she mentioned that you've missed a few meetings. You don't see that as a problem?"

I pulled a glass from the cabinet, my grip so tight it was a wonder it didn't shatter in my hand. I used the time it took to fill it with water and drink half of it down to find my calm. "The only thing I consider a problem is that you've taken it upon yourself to go to members of my board of directors behind my back to ask about how I'm currently running my company, and that Evelyn would even discuss it with you. But that's a conversation that should take place between her and me, and you can guarantee, that will be happening very soon."

"It's this place," she continued like I hadn't said a word, choosing to tune out every word I'd said. "This place is where things come to die, Vaughn. You've been here too long. It's time for you to come home."

The alarm I'd set on my cell to let me know when it was time to pick up my father went off, cutting Estelle off mid-rant.

"As lovely as this little chat has been, there's somewhere I have to be."

She arched a brow, the extent of emotion the woman showed. "What could possibly be more important than getting your life back on track?"

My molars ground together so hard my jaw ached as I slammed the empty glass onto the counter. "Today is Hershel's last treatment and I've agreed to take him."

"I'm sure someone else can?—"

"I'll be taking my father to his appointment," I gritted out, refusing to allow her to finish that sentence. "I don't know if you planned on staying in town for a while or not, but there's a spare room down the hall and to the left. You're welcome to stay, but only if you find a way to seriously shift your attitude in the next few hours. If you don't feel you can do that, there's nothing to stop you from leaving. But I made a commitment, and I'm sticking to it."

With that, I spun on my heel and marched out of the kitchen, my mind reeling after only one interaction.

"Vaughn. Vaughn, son. You okay?"My father's voice broke through the clouds inside my head, pulling me back into the present. I'd been so lost in thought, staring out the window of his little cubical area, I hadn't noticed anything happening around me.

I blinked back into reality, turning around to notice he'd already been hooked up to his IV, a blanket covering his legs to keep him from getting too cold, and the remote to the small television on the arm of his chair at the ready.

"I'm sorry." I did my best to shake myself out of the funk that seemed to be following me around since my mother showed up on my doorstep two hours earlier. "Were you saying something?"

Hershel shook his head, his brow furrowed with concern. "Nothing important." He cocked his head to the side, studying me closely. "You okay, son?"

I massaged at the ache that had started behind my eyeballs and spread through the rest of my skull. "Yeah. Yes. I'm okay. I'm good."

"You know, I might have believed that if you hadn't insisted so many damn times."

I let out a sigh, moving over and sitting in the hard plastic chair provided for the family or friends who came to keep their sick loved ones company so they didn't have to go through these treatments alone. Leaning forward, I braced my elbows on my knees and rubbed at my temples, letting out a sigh that carried the weight of the world.

"Is it your girl?" he asked. "Is there anything I can do to help with that?" He sounded almost eager at the aspect of helping me with my girl problems, and I actually liked the idea of that.

"No, it's not Jolie. She's... good. Great actually."

"Then what's got you stuck in here?" He tapped the side of his head, and I had to jerk back in surprise at how well he read me. I was trapped inside my own head like I had been a million times in the past. I was heading down an all-too-familiar road. One I'd been on a million times. My thoughts were spiraling out of control.

"Estelle showed up on my doorstep this morning."

His eyes flared. "Oh. Wow."

I heaved out a breath, sitting back against the chair. "Yeah, that's about the same reaction I had."

He cleared his throat, lifting the cup of water to his mouth and sipping through the straw. "I'm surprised she set foot in this town again after all her talk of how much she hated this place." I hummed knowingly. "What brought her to Pembrooke this time?"

"Same thing that did when I was thirteen years old. She doesn't think I'm living my life the way she approves and wanted to make her displeasure known in person." I shook my head in disgust. "It's like she has a sixth sense whenever I'm happy and has to pop in to ruin it."

"Your mother . . ." Hershel paused, pulling in a pensive breath. "She's . . . complicated."

I let out a scoff. "That's putting it mildly."

"She's always been a certain way, and she can't understand how anyone might think or feel differently. But, son, you have to live your life for yourself. You can't waste your time worrying about what other people expect of you. That'll only lead to misery."

I scrubbed at my face, my chest feeling heavy. "I don't know. Maybe that's what I deserve. I mean. Maybe I don't deserve to be happy?"

My father jerked back in his seat, flabbergasted. "Why on God's green earth would you think that? Of course you deserve happiness. Hell, it could be argued you deserve it more than most."

I shook my head. "How can you say that? I was the world's worst son. I cut you off?—"

"Vaughn, no. Son." Sadness washed over his expression as he hung his head, like the pain washing through him was way too heavy to hold. "You've been carrying that on your shoulders all these years, and I blame myself for that. That's my fault."

"I don't understand."

"It wasn't on you to keep the relationship between us strong, Vaughn. That was on me." I opened my mouth to disagree, but he held up a hand to silence me. "You were a kid. I was the adult. I was the parent. I shouldn't have let you go in the first goddamn place, then I turned around and made everything worse by not trying harder to stay in your life."

"I understood why you had to let me go with her," I assured him, wanting to take that burden off his shoulders. "She would have fought you, and she fights dirty. I knew that even back then. I never blamed you for letting me go."

He cleared the emotion from his throat, his words coming out raspier than before when he said, "You might not have, but I blamed myself. Millie and I wanted you to stay with us so badly, and you're right, I didn't have the means to fight for custody back then. But I let my sadness over losing you eat away at me. I was in a really dark place for months after you left. By the time I finally pulled myself out, I'd convinced myself too much time had passed, that you wouldn't want to talk to me. I tried telling myself you were better off with your mother, that she could provide you with the kind of life I couldn't. I had no idea I was so wrong, and I'll have to live with that regret for the rest of my life. Truth was, I was only trying to make myself feel better for being a shitty dad."

My throat felt tight, my lungs and eyes burned. "I never thought you were a shitty dad."

His smile wobbled, but he managed to keep it together. "Then you're a better son than I deserve. I know I'm not a perfect father. I let you down; I tried to do better with Leighton and went too far in the opposite direction. I overcompensated for my failures with you, and look how that turned out."

I tried to swallow down the burst of bewildered laughter that rose up my throat and ended up making a choking sound.

"I know I enabled her too much, spoiled her. I know she's a brat, and that's another thing that's my responsibility to fix. The fact is, Vaughn, none of that was ever on you. I want you to let that go right now. We both wasted too many years carrying the blame on our shoulders instead of doing something about it What do you say we let that go and move forward? Starting now. I don't care that it took me getting sick to bring you back here. I'm just grateful you're here. I'd do it all again if I had to, if it meant I got to have a relationship with my son."

I let out a raspy laugh past the cotton in my throat. "Can't say I'd wish cancer on you again, but I'm happy I'm here too."

My father leaned over the arm of his chair, reaching across the space between us to place his hand on top of mine. "I know Estelle's sudden appearance probably has you spinning out, but don't let her derail you. I haven't seen you this happy in far too long, and despite what you think, you deserve it. You hold tight to all the things that have healed you recently, you hear me? Don't let her take them away from you. You're stronger than that."

My throat worked on a thick swallow that threatened to choke me as I struggled to force down the lump of emotion in my throat. "Thanks, Dad. That means a lot."

"I'm always here for you. That will never change. Not even when you go back to Denver. I hope you know that."

I let out a chuckle, the sound causing his eyes to light up. "About Denver... how would you feel if I decided not to go back?"

His nostrils flared on a sharp inhale, and there was no way to miss the sudden wetness that turned his eyes glassy. "Like I just won the lottery."

That settled it, then. I needed to get Jolie on board before making everything official. I prayed she felt for me even a fraction of what I felt for her.