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My gaze follows Bob’s to the turd floating near Sophie. Ugh. This can’t be happening.
I rush over to the pool and scoop my crying child out of the water. “It’s okay, sweetheart. This is my fault. I should’ve taken you to the potty when you asked.” I motion for Caroline to get out. “Come on, Caroline. Time to go home.”
“But Dad. We just got here.”
“Don’t argue, Caroline. Let’s go.”
Tears sting my eyes as I hurry my children out to the car. I haven’t cried since Tracy’s funeral, and I feel an ugly one coming on. I’d planned to make an excuse not to go to Ashton’s cookout, but an hour later, when I receive a text from her with the details, I immediately respond, offering to come early and take everyone for a boat ride. I’m feeling less confident in my ability to take care of my daughters with each passing moment.
* * *
I had reservations when Ashton hired my firm to renovate Marsh Point, our family’s antebellum waterfront home. Ever since I left for college, the traumatic memories from my youth have made it difficult for me to be in the house for any length of time. But stripping the walls down to the studs exorcized the ghosts. And with the demons gone, I can appreciate the elegance of the architecture and the majesty of the setting.
Ashton and Sully are waiting for us on the dock when the girls and I arrive. I buckle Caroline and Sophie into life jackets, lower the boat, and start the engine. With the girls snuggled in Sully’s lap on the bench seat in front of the console, and Ashton perched next to me on the leaning post, we head out towards the ocean.
“I’m glad to see you so happy,” I say to Ashton. “After everything Owen put you through, you deserve it. And Sully seems like a great guy.”
Ashton’s lips part in a soft smile. “He is. The girls have certainly taken to him.”
“Tell me again why you two never dated in high school.” Sully was one of Ashton’s closest friends in high school. They were so much older than me, I never got a chance to know him well.
“I was too busy taking care of my siblings to date anyone,” she says with a twinkle in her slate-blue eyes.
I reel away from her in shock. “Really? You mean you never had a boyfriend?”
“Nope. Not a single one.”
“I’m sorry, Ashton. I never realized the extent of your sacrifice.” I tap on the throttle, adjusting our speed as we approach some waves. “Women are wired differently than men. You’re meant to take care of children. Men are definitely not.”
She gives me a gentle shove. “You’re a chauvinist. You’d better be careful who you say that to.” A somber expression slides behind her smile. “Truth be told, my maternal instincts were more about survival than an inherent tendency to nurture. Someone had to take care of us. As the oldest, that job fell on me.”
I hang my head. “I’m still waiting for my survival instincts to kick in. I’m not sure I’m cut out for single parenting.”
“You’ve only been at it a few days, Will. You’re learning a lot of new skills. Naturally, everything will seem difficult in the beginning.”
“You’re missing the point. I wasn’t a great dad when Tracy was alive. I don’t think I have it in me. Maybe I inherited the sucky parent gene from Mom.”
“She would’ve been a fine mom if not for the alcoholism.”
I roll my eyes. “Why do you always defend her?”
Ashton ignores my question. The subject of our mother is a point of contention between us. “Have you considered getting another nanny?”
“That’s not an option. The nanny service fired me. Besides, I don’t like having a stranger living in the house.”
“Give yourself a break, Will. You’ll eventually figure things out.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” My girls would be better off living with someone else. I just don’t know who that someone else is.
Ashton drapes an arm around my shoulders. “These past couple of months have been brutal. You need a break. Why don’t you let the girls stay with me tonight?”
“What about Sully? I’d hate to cramp your style with your new lover boy.”
“Ha ha. Sully is leaving for Charleston after dinner. He has an important meeting early tomorrow morning. And I would love to have the girls. I have their new rooms all ready for them. They will be my first official guests.” During the renovations, Ashton reconfigured the upstairs floor plan to create more bedrooms. With no children of her own to dote on, she’s become something of a surrogate mother to my daughters since Tracy died. She insisted Caroline and Sophie have their own rooms and has extended an open-door invitation to spend the night anytime.
“In that case, I accept. Sophie and Caroline will be thrilled.”
I relish the idea of sitting around in my boxer shorts and watching football. But when I return home after the cookout, the house feels lonely without my children. I resist the temptation to drive back to Marsh Point. The girls will benefit from having their favorite aunt to themselves. I wander around the house, not sure what to do with myself. Moving to Mariner’s Landing was Tracy’s idea. I much prefer the older homes in the town’s historic area. I don’t belong in this house. Come to think of it, I don’t belong in my own skin. I’ve been a misfit all my life. In my dysfunctional family with sisters so much older than me. I was as close to Tracy as I’ve ever been with anyone in my life, but I held something of myself back, even from her. I’m a broken man. And I can’t see myself ever being whole.
