I stand and extend my hand to him. “Thanks, Mr. Pace, for everything. I appreciate the help.”
He nods, walks to the exit and closes the door behind him, as I fall back into the chair.
“Ma, what am I going to do with this place? I haven’t the foggiest idea how to run a winery. And now I have to find a place to live, get Liam enrolled in school and?—”
“And plan your ex-girlfriend's wedding?”
I roll my eyes. “Why are you having a good time with this?”
“Because you’re stubborn as hell.”
“Tell me how you really feel.”
“I’m trying.” She leans forward, stretching her hand to me on the table. I lay mine in hers as she says, “Can I be honest?”
“When has that stopped you?”
She squeezes my hand. “You knew playing football wasn’t going to lead to the NFL. Why did you let it stop you from coming home?”
Same reason it continued to stop me every year. I can’t come face to face with the girl I screwed it up with. Guess the joke’s on me. Now I get to watch her marry someone else. I shake my head and stand, needing to get out of this room, but mom holds my hand tight and continues, “She really loved you, Matt, no matter what. And I know you loved her.”
I hold the paperwork in one and and pry my other away from hers. She lets me go and I try my best not to crinkle it up and throw it in the wastebasket.
“Well, looks like thatno matter whatactually mattered.” I storm toward the door and twist the knob a bit too hard. “I’ve got to go get Liam. I’ll talk to you later.”
“I love you, Matt. It’s all going to be okay.”
I close my eyes with my hand still on the knob. “I love you too, Ma.” I leave the door open behind me, making haste to get out into the air again. The sun is warm, and the smell of saltwater immediately takes me back fifteen years to a time that was so much simpler: the beach, football, and the hottest girl I ever laid eyes on.
Chapter2
Matt
As usual, I wake up early and make myself a cup of coffee. Only now I get to sit out on my back deck and watch the sun come up over the water. The small two-bedroom house I rented is down the street from my parents’ and overlooks Starlight Bay. Watching the sun rise here reminds me of the days when I would be sneaking back into the house trying to beat the rising sun after being out all night with Kylie. Now, I rise with it, with hope for a new day.
I hear a car door slam and head inside in time to see my mom walk through the front door. I put my finger over my lips in a hushed manner. “Liam’s still sleeping.”
She nods and heads for the kitchen where I hand her a mug to fill with coffee. “Come on outside with me.”
She makes her coffee then follows behind me, leaving the slider door cracked just an inch so if Liam does wake, he knows where we are.
We take our seats and she dives right in. “How are you feeling?”
I sip from my coffee. “I’m okay. Kind of funny how easy it is to fall right back into the rhythm of town.” I look out over the water. “I’m kind of excited to see how things run down at Grape Expectations.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I’m just a phone call away, and of course your dad will be there with you. He has a lot of knowledge about the winery. You know he and Paul spent a lot of time there together. Dad's actually been an employee there for the last year.”
I look at her in surprise. “No shit!”
She laughs. “No shit. He enjoyed learning the behind-the-scenes of picking the grapes and corking.” She sips from her coffee. “Keeps him out of my hair too.” She winks but continues. “Don’t ever feel you can't call us.”
I nod. “Thanks.” My mind churns over how to say this. “And thanks for…” my words linger. I swallow. Clear my throat. “For everything, I guess. After Gina left, it was hard to navigate how to be there for Liam.”
Gina and I met right after college. She was fun and driven. I fell for her instantly and we began to plan our life. I took a coaching job right out of school that kept me home, but she was constantly traveling for work. At first, I thought it was amazing how goal oriented she was, but when she was missing holidays to work or missing my games because she stayed late at the office, I realized we were on two different pages of what life looked like together.
She pats my hand. “He’s a resilient kid and he’s going to be just fine. You’re a great dad, Matt. And honestly, being here with family and your friends, I don't think you’re going to have to worry about him.” She ends that sentence with a tone that makes me look over at her. “You on the other hand…” she trails off, and I groan.
“Ma, I’m thirty-four, when will you stop worrying?”