Page 70 of The Wedding Driver
“It’s okay to be angry,” Tonya said.
He held back his snippy response because it wouldn’t be fair to take anything out on the one woman who had stood by him through some of the toughest times in his life. Instead, he took in a deep calming breath and tried to clear his mind of the past. He didn’t live there anymore. He chose the present and the future he had with Tonya.
Nothing he did would ever bring back Lisa. The only way to truly honor her memory was to be the kind of man that would make her proud.
And that would be to let go of Victoria and all the pain and misery that part of his life had brought.
“I don’t want to be mad at her anymore.” He sighed. “I’m tired of this constantly coming back.”
“What would my grandfather say?”
Foster chuckled. There were a dozen sayings he could come up with. “Shit or get off the pot. You can’t move forward if you have two feet stuck in the past. But I think my favorite one that comes to mind is, stop being such an asshole and just do what needs doing, like changing my lightbulb in the guest room.” He nudged Tonya forward. “Let’s do this.”
A thickness filled his throat as he approached his daughter’s grave. She would have been fifteen years old. Her next birthday she would have been begging him for her permit.
He’d never have the opportunity to chase off boys. Or to walk her down the aisle. All those firsts were ripped from him in an instant.
But he couldn’t hang on to the rage in his heart anymore. Not because he found love. Or because he had a new baby on the way. Or even because Victoria had passed. He had to let it go because an old man taught him that living life meant honoring those we loved.
And he loved his little girl with every fiber of his being.
“Thanks for coming,” Foster said.
“Tonya, we are so sorry for your loss.” Victor curled his fingers around her biceps. “Your grandfather, while we didn’t know him well, was so kind to us at your wedding.”
“He was a good man,” Tonya said.
“We’re surprised you picked today to do this.” Victor handed Foster the urn.
“My grandfather would have wanted it.” Tonya glanced up and smiled. “He believed in fresh starts and I’m sure he’s looking down on all of us, grateful that we’ve been able to come together like this.”
Foster ran his hand over the tombstone. “Is there anything either of you would like to say?”
Denise pulled out a handkerchief. “Foster.” She grabbed his hand. “You have always been a shining light in our lives. I know that we spent a few years almost cutting you out.”
“You did what you needed to do,” Foster said. “I never felt like you didn’t care for me during that time. I honestly understood.”
“This is why we want to be a part of your life now,” Victor added. “Tonya. We know we have no right to ask this of you, especially here, now. However, as we bring our daughter together with our granddaughter, we’d like to give you this.” Victor stuck his hand into his coat pocket. “This was my father’s and it would have gone to Lisa.”
Foster swallowed.
Hard.
“The compass,” he whispered.
“Yes. It might seem silly, but it’s been handed down from one generation to the next,” Denise said. “We know your baby isn’t our family. However, we’ve always felt as though Foster is and we want your child to have it.”
Foster took the compass between his fingers. His hand shook. This very object sat next to Lisa’s bed a long time ago. She’d kiss it every night before she closed her eyes. She’d never met her great-grandfather. He’d passed long before she was born. But she loved the damn compass. “We can’t accept this.”
Tonya laid her soft hands over his and his heart melted into a million pieces. Not only did he know he had to take the compass, but he accepted he wanted it.
“That’s such an amazing gift,” Tonya said. “Will you give us a moment?”
“Sure.” Victor took his wife’s hand and strolled toward the big oak tree twenty feet away.
“What’s going on?” Foster asked.
“My sisters and I were talking about all the various godparent scenarios and we were giving ourselves headaches trying to figure it out. But this solves the problem.”
