“Hey, Rory!”
I was so startled I almost jumped.
Aaron strolled toward me, a large take-out bag swinging by his side. I sat up as he opened the front gate, placing my feet on the porch floor.
“Hey,” I said, trying to smile.
“I brought you guys dinner, enough for four.”
Aaron lifted the bag, which was imprinted with the Crab Shack logo, and smiled back. He was wearing a red polo shirt with the collar turned up, just like the guy he’d chatted up at the bar the other night.
My heart sank at the reminder of my father. “Thanks. That’s great. But my dad’s not home, so it’ll only be three.”
“More for me, then,” he said happily, reaching for the front door and holding it open for me. Amazing how the source of such anguish for me was a happy surprise for him.
“Darcy!” I shouted as the door swung closed. “Aaron’s here.”
I heard her bed squeak, then her door slam, and she appeared at the top of the stairs. Her hair was all done up and curled around her face, like she was getting ready for prom.
“Hey, there!” Aaron said brightly. “What’s with the do?”
“Like it?” she asked, turning her head from side to side before tromping down the stairs. “I call it the Sheer Boredom.”
Aaron laughed. “Very creatively named.”
“What’d you bring?” Darcy asked, squiring him into the kitchen. “It smells yum.”
Just as Darcy opened the bag, the front door opened and my dad stepped into the house, flicking on the porch light.
“Dad!” I shouted. He barely had time to open his arms before I ran into them. “You’re back!”
“I am,” he said, dropping his keys on the table next to the framed photo of my family. “What’s with the hero’s welcome?”
I hesitated. He wasn’t acting like someone who’d gone on a fruitless mission to right his daughters’ lives. In fact, he looked happy and relaxed. Beaming, even.
“Um…where’ve you been?” I asked.
He was already looking past me toward the kitchen, where Darcy and Aaron were unpacking the food on the Formica table.
“You’ll never believe it,” he said. “I was at the mayor’s house, and she’s going to help me get my book published!”
“Really?” Darcy squeaked, taking a bite of fried shrimp as she sat down at the table. “How?”
“Apparently, she used to be in publishing, and she knows all these agents and editors,” my father said, strolling into the kitchen and eyeing the array of fish, fries, and sauces Aaron had laid out. “How’re you, Aaron?” he asked, slapping him on the back.
“Doing well, sir. Help yourself,” Aaron replied.
“Daddy, that’s great,” Darcy said as my father went to the cabinet for plates. “Are you done with it?”
“Almost,” he replied happily. “She said she’ll read it as soon as it’s finished.”
I walked slowly to the kitchen threshold, watching as the three of them settled in for their meals. They looked like some kind of brightly lit sitcom. The single dad, his pretty daughter, and her sweet little friend. For a brief moment I wondered if that was why this house was decorated like something out of the fifties. Were they—whoever they were—trying to paint the perfect American family backdrop before people moved on?
“That’s where you’ve been all day? With the mayor?” I asked.
My father frowned, thinking, as he loaded his plate with fried clams. “No. I went for a walk, had lunch at the general store, then bumped into her at the library.”
Untrue. Completely untrue. He’d stormed out of here on a mission and driven to the ferry. There was no way he’d spent the day wandering around. Someone or something had screwed with his memory—screwed with his mind. I looked at Darcy, waiting for her to ask about the mainland, but she didn’t. She simply pushed herself up from the table and went to get everyone drinks.