“It’s unexpectedly roomy. The house looks smaller than it is,” I said, my voice trembling when another clap of thunder rumbled over us.
He nodded his agreement. “Exactly what I thought when I saw the place. It’s nice to have a finished space like this, even though I live by myself. I hope eventually to have a family to share it with.” He held my gaze for a beat before he spoke again. “Feeling better?”
“I’m—I’m fine,” I stuttered, clearing my throat. I stood up off the couch and inspected all the pictures he had hung on the wall. “Is this Athena?” I asked as another crack of thunder made me jump. I grimaced and bit my lip to keep from whimpering, but instinctively covered my ears at the same time. I was glad I had my back to him.
“It is,” he said, standing behind me now with his hand to my back. I couldn’t tell if it was a protective gesture or a steadying gesture, but either way, I liked it way too much for it to be smart. “She was an adorable little girl who grew up to be a beautiful young lady.”
“You’re not kidding,” I said as I stared at the girl in a senior photo. “I see all of you in her.” I jumped again when thunder rumbled through the room, and his hands grasped my upper arms tightly, as though he knew I needed that comfort.
“All of me in her?” he asked. “I don’t know if her mother would like to hear that.”
“She would,” I said on a nod. “Athena is beautiful, and she is her daughter. Regardless of what’s happened since she was conceived, a mother’s love accepts every feature of their child. At least it should,” I added. “Besides, you were a standup guy when you were nothing more than a kid yourself. She could have had to raise Athena alone with no help from her birth father. I’m sure she’s grateful you’re here to help, even though she has a husband now.”
He was silent for several moments while his fingers rubbed up and down my back like they had a right to do that. I suppose as long as I didn’t tell him to stop, then they did. “You have an interesting way of looking at life, Amber Larson.”
“You make that sound like a bad thing,” I said, a tremble rumbling through me.
“Not at all. It’s more like something tells me that you have experience with it in a painful way.”
I didn’t—couldn’t—answer him. I didn’t know how to answer him. I did have real-life experience with it, and it was painful, but not in the way he was thinking. My hand trailed across a frame sitting on the stand next to the couch. I picked it up to look at it closer. “This is you and Athena. What a wonderful picture.”
“It is. That was when Athena liked having her picture taken with her old dad. I think she was about ten there and we were going to a school event. She was so happy that I took the morning off to go to the Donuts and Dads event. Usually, her step-dad went because I was teaching. She was in fourth grade that year, and I just wanted her to know that she was always more important to me than work or anything else I was doing. It became a tradition after that. I invited Ken, and all three of us sat together, ate donuts, and got to know her and her friends. I thought that was important, even if I didn’t live in the same town. I wanted to know who she was hanging out with, and I wanted to know their dads. It was also important that Ken was there, too. He was raising her for the most part, and he saw her friends more than I did. We found ways to make it work.”
“Sounds like you more than made it work, Bishop. You are the very definition of co-parenting. I can promise you that Athena now understands how rare that is after spending a year at college. I’m glad she had both of you in her life. Strong male role models for a girl always help them make good decisions.”
I lowered myself to the couch again on a sigh and kept hold of the picture, just to have something to do with my hands. “It sounds like the storm is easing.”
He nodded and walked to a mini-fridge next to the small table. “It is. I wouldn’t be surprised if there aren’t a few more here and there tonight. It was hot and muggy all day.” He walked back and handed me a cold can of Sprite, which I accepted with a smile. I cracked it open and took a gulp, lowering the can to my leg. “Thanks. I don’t like storms.”
“Some people don’t. Nothing to worry about.”
“No, I mean, I really don’t like storms. I don’t—I have,” I stuttered about, looking for words that wouldn’t come. Finally, I just shook my head. “I can’t.”
“Storms are the reason you live in the downstairs apartment, right?” he asked, motioning at the side of the house that faced mine.
“It’s hard to find a rental with a basement,” I agreed.
“Especially in a resort town like this one.”
“How did you know that’s why I live in my parent’s basement?” I asked, my head tilted. “I bet Brady told you, didn’t he?”
He shrugged and leaned back, sipping on his can of Diet Coke. “He said you’d never tell me the truth, so he did.”
“What an asshole,” I moaned, dropping my head back to the couch. “Way to make a girl look like a head case, Brady!”
“I don’t think being afraid of storms after what you went through makes you a head case, Amber. On the contrary, I think you’ve earned the right to feel that way about the power of Mother Nature.”
“You might be the only one that thinks that besides Hay-Hay then. Even my parents
