witness.”
“Duly noted. Take your shower, Grace, and then I’ll do your hair.”
“You guys must have better stuff to do than babysit me.”
“Are you kidding?” Stephanie said. “This is fun! I can’t wait to see you all dolled up in that black dress Laura found for you and the heels. Evan will wet his pants when he gets a load of you.”
Grace chuckled at that visual as they left the room and shut the door. She eyed the razor warily as she considered their instructions. “Well, they certainly know better than I do, so here goes nothing.”
Chapter 9
Anxious to get home to his family, Mac McCarthy locked up the marina office and restaurant. He couldn’t wait to see Maddie and hear about everything the kids had been up to that day. He’d been spoiled by the weeks at home during Maddie’s high-risk pregnancy, and now that he was back to work, he was far too aware of what he was missing with his family.
The sun was setting over the Salt Pond in a vivid display of reds, pinks, blues and purples. Knowing how Maddie loved a pretty sunset, he sent her a text telling her to take a look outside and letting her know he’d be home soon.
As was his habit at the end of the day, he took a walk down the main pier to make sure the boats were securely tied for the night. Halfway down, he stopped short at the sight of his father’s familiar thatch of gray hair. Shoulders stooped, Big Mac stared down at the spot where his life had nearly come to a tragic end earlier in the summer.
Mac approached his father and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Dad? Are you okay?”
“Oh, hi, son. I didn’t realize you were still here.”
Mac didn’t mention that his father would’ve had to go past Mac’s truck to get to the pier. “I was just closing up for the night.”
“Did we have a good day?”
Mac smiled at his father’s daily question. “A very good day. A thousand more than the same day last year.”
“I love that you know that.”
“It’s called record keeping.”
“Never heard of it.”
Mac laughed as he remembered how long it had taken him to wrangle the business records into shape. “Believe me, I know. So what’re you doing here?”
Big Mac looked down at the water again. “Trying to remember. I keep going over and over it, and I can’t recall a damned thing about what happened.”
“That’s probably just as well. I’ve heard that’s the brain’s way of protecting itself after a traumatic injury.”
“It’s damned frustrating. How am I supposed to get past it if I can’t even remember it?”
The despair Mac heard in his father’s voice was wildly out of character. Big Mac was never despondent. Ebullient, yes, but never despondent. Seeing him like this struck a note of fear in Mac. “What can I do for you, Dad?”
“No one will tell me what happened. I know you’re all trying to protect me, but I want to know.” He grasped his son’s arm. “Tell me, Mac. Please, tell me.”
Mac released a deep breath. The last thing he wanted to do was relive one of the worst days of his life, but there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his dad. “Let me buy you a beer.”
“Is that your way of blowing me off?”
“Not at all.” He took his father by the arm and led him to the Tiki Bar, where the bartender greeted them warmly. “Two light beers, please.”
“Coming right up.”
With their beers in hand and the bartender working the other end of the bar, Mac took a long look at his dad. “You’re sure you want to hear this?”
Big Mac nodded. “I
need
to hear it.”
Mac stared off at the boats bobbing in the Salt Pond, trying to find the words he needed. “We were sitting with the guys at the picnic table outside the restaurant when we saw the boat coming. He was steaming across the pond, leaving a big wake. You got pissed and got up to go meet him.”
“Why me and not you or Luke?”
“Because you said you had it, and even though you put us in charge, you’re still the
“Duly noted. Take your shower, Grace, and then I’ll do your hair.”
“You guys must have better stuff to do than babysit me.”
“Are you kidding?” Stephanie said. “This is fun! I can’t wait to see you all dolled up in that black dress Laura found for you and the heels. Evan will wet his pants when he gets a load of you.”
Grace chuckled at that visual as they left the room and shut the door. She eyed the razor warily as she considered their instructions. “Well, they certainly know better than I do, so here goes nothing.”
Chapter 9
Anxious to get home to his family, Mac McCarthy locked up the marina office and restaurant. He couldn’t wait to see Maddie and hear about everything the kids had been up to that day. He’d been spoiled by the weeks at home during Maddie’s high-risk pregnancy, and now that he was back to work, he was far too aware of what he was missing with his family.
The sun was setting over the Salt Pond in a vivid display of reds, pinks, blues and purples. Knowing how Maddie loved a pretty sunset, he sent her a text telling her to take a look outside and letting her know he’d be home soon.
As was his habit at the end of the day, he took a walk down the main pier to make sure the boats were securely tied for the night. Halfway down, he stopped short at the sight of his father’s familiar thatch of gray hair. Shoulders stooped, Big Mac stared down at the spot where his life had nearly come to a tragic end earlier in the summer.
Mac approached his father and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Dad? Are you okay?”
“Oh, hi, son. I didn’t realize you were still here.”
Mac didn’t mention that his father would’ve had to go past Mac’s truck to get to the pier. “I was just closing up for the night.”
“Did we have a good day?”
Mac smiled at his father’s daily question. “A very good day. A thousand more than the same day last year.”
“I love that you know that.”
“It’s called record keeping.”
“Never heard of it.”
Mac laughed as he remembered how long it had taken him to wrangle the business records into shape. “Believe me, I know. So what’re you doing here?”
Big Mac looked down at the water again. “Trying to remember. I keep going over and over it, and I can’t recall a damned thing about what happened.”
“That’s probably just as well. I’ve heard that’s the brain’s way of protecting itself after a traumatic injury.”
“It’s damned frustrating. How am I supposed to get past it if I can’t even remember it?”
The despair Mac heard in his father’s voice was wildly out of character. Big Mac was never despondent. Ebullient, yes, but never despondent. Seeing him like this struck a note of fear in Mac. “What can I do for you, Dad?”
“No one will tell me what happened. I know you’re all trying to protect me, but I want to know.” He grasped his son’s arm. “Tell me, Mac. Please, tell me.”
Mac released a deep breath. The last thing he wanted to do was relive one of the worst days of his life, but there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his dad. “Let me buy you a beer.”
“Is that your way of blowing me off?”
“Not at all.” He took his father by the arm and led him to the Tiki Bar, where the bartender greeted them warmly. “Two light beers, please.”
“Coming right up.”
With their beers in hand and the bartender working the other end of the bar, Mac took a long look at his dad. “You’re sure you want to hear this?”
Big Mac nodded. “I
need
to hear it.”
Mac stared off at the boats bobbing in the Salt Pond, trying to find the words he needed. “We were sitting with the guys at the picnic table outside the restaurant when we saw the boat coming. He was steaming across the pond, leaving a big wake. You got pissed and got up to go meet him.”
“Why me and not you or Luke?”
“Because you said you had it, and even though you put us in charge, you’re still the
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