“Nonnie says you do this every year.” She pointed toward the bonfire. “I’ve never been to one before.”
Bowie handed her the bottle of water before he sat down in the sand. He pulled his knees toward his chest and rested his arms there. “You’re not really there now, are you?”
She shrugged. “I like hanging out with Luke.” Brystol nuzzled the dog, who pushed himself into her embrace.
“He loves you. I used to think he was my best friend until you came along. You know, I tried to use him as a pillow, like I had seen you do before, and he growled at me.”
Brystol giggled, and it was the best sound he had heard in a long time. “Maybe I can visit him after you’re done working on my nonnie’s house?”
“Are you staying here?” he asked, knowing full well he was pumping the teenager for information about her mother. He wanted a little tidbit of information, something to tide him over until he came to his senses about Brooklyn.
“I told you earlier that I’m here every summer.”
“How come we haven’t seen you around then?” he fired back.
“Maybe you weren’t looking in the right places.”
“Touché, kid.” He brought his bottle of beer to his lips and took a long drink. The amber liquid wasn’t satisfying. “How old are you?”
“Fourteen. I’ll be a freshman in the fall.”
“Do you even go to school?” The question came out wrong, and before he could take it back or apologize, Brystol gave him a chiding look. He had seen it before. He had been on the receiving end of the same glare from her mother many, many times. He chuckled and decided the beer tasted just fine and took another drink. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“I’m homeschooled.”
All he could do was nod. He wasn’t a parent by any means but knew growing up this way was not what Austin would’ve wanted for his daughter. Of course, Austin would’ve had the girl fishing by now and probably spitting tobacco and wrestling gators or something.
“I know you don’t like my mom,” she blurted out.
He glanced at her but quickly turned away. Her eyes were sharp and accusing. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her mother. But not in the sense that he couldn’t be cordial. Bowie couldn’t explain his feelings for Brooklyn. He hated her and loved her at the same time.
“I . . . uh . . .”
“I know it’s a complicated adult matter. That’s what my mom says every time she wants to avoid talking about ‘adult’ things.” The use of air quotes caused Bowie to laugh, which made Brystol chuckle.
“I’d like to get to know you, Brystol. Maybe teach you some of the things your dad would’ve done if he were here.”
“Like how to fish?”
He smiled so wide he felt his cheeks stretch. “And how to sail. We could go hiking. Rock jumping. As much as your dad loved being on the water, he loved nature, and you’re in one of the most beautiful states there is to explore.”
“I’d like that, as long as my mom says it’s okay.”
Bowie peered over his shoulder and caught Brooklyn staring at them. Had she been watching them the whole time, wondering what he could possibly be telling her daughter? He held her gaze until she tore her eyes away. He watched her look down at the sand and wrap her arms around her torso. Was she cold? Not possible. So, what was she hiding herself from?
He longed to hold her, to ask her where she’d been and why she hadn’t told him she was leaving. Hell, he wanted to know why she didn’t ask him to go with her. They could’ve been great together, and Brystol would have a father because he knew, without a doubt and any hesitation, he would’ve stepped in to raise Austin’s child as his own. They could’ve built a family, either here or someplace else. All he wanted was to be with her. Even now he had thoughts of what it would be like to start over, to move on. Thing was, he wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to forgive her.
“Do you have any questions about your dad that I can answer for you?”
Brystol adjusted the way she sat by bringing her legs up. Luke moved as well and sat so he could lean up against his new best friend. “Why do you come out here every year on the anniversary of his death?”
“How do you know we do this every year?”
“Nonnie told me.”
“Are you here when we do this?” Curiosity ran rampant through his mind.
She straightened her legs and pushed her feet into the sand. “No, Simi takes us to Seattle for dinner with my grandparents, except for this year. Nonnie wanted to go to the street fair.”
“And did you go?” His mother was working a booth down there, and he wondered if they had crossed paths.