Page 37 of Ebbing Tides (The Lighthouse Duology #2)

I couldn't in good conscience let an old man walk alone in the cold and snow back to his car, so we traveled together to the parking lot in near silence.

That was fine though. I didn't take it personally.

There was a lot to unpack in the short time we'd spent together, and I knew that my thoughts at least were too loud and crowded to welcome casual conversation.

Beside my truck—where Lido slept, awaiting my return—was a car sitting idle; a woman sat behind the wheel, reading on an e-reader. It brought me great relief to find that Maxwell hadn't driven himself, but the sight of this woman only brought on more questions.

“My chariot awaits,” Maxwell announced, opening the passenger side of the four-door sedan.

The woman in the driver's seat leaned down to ask, “Can I take you anywhere without you making friends?”

“Oh, Carrie, this isn't a friend,” the old man replied, climbing in much easier than I would've expected. “This young man and I share a name.”

Young man . I smiled at the sentiment, though I felt anything but young.

I crouched to peer into the car, squinting my eyes to brace against a sudden burst of wind. Lifting a hand, I waved for the first time at the woman I now realized was my aunt by blood.

She smiled, an expression so open and kind. “Another Max. It's nice to meet you. Thanks for walking my dad—”

“Oh, not just any Max,” Maxwell corrected. “This here is Maxwell Benjamin Tailor.”

My lungs stilled as the smile fell from her face, her knuckles blanching against the wheel. She blinked, her lips falling open to speak, only to shut once again.

Maxwell laid a hand against her arm. “Max is Lilly's son.”

Carol slowly shook her head, her brow pinching with confusion. “What? No … but she said … what ? How?”

The wind picked up as Carol threw the driver's door open and climbed out of the car.

She hurried around. I stood to my full height, and she looked me over, her eyes round and wide.

Her dark brown hair whipped against her face as her hands covered her mouth to catch a gasping sob as it escaped her lips.

“Oh my God … can I give you a hug? Would that be okay?” she asked, taking a tentative step toward me.

I laughed, feeling like I'd entered a dream world as I slowly opened my arms. “Sure.”

She hurried forward, pressing her cheek against my chest. She was a smaller woman, but her hug filled me with a matronly warmth I wasn't sure I'd ever felt before in my life. I swallowed against another torrent, the damn emotions threatening to end me before I got a chance to know these people.

“She said you were dead,” she whispered, her body starting to tremble.

I frowned and looked down into the car, my eyes catching Maxwell's. He lifted his hand, closed his eyes, and shook his head.

The message was clear.

Let it rest. We'll talk about it another time.

Carol stood back, her hands reaching out to grip my arms. “Let me look at you. Are you healthy? Are you … are you okay ? How have you … oh God, how old are you? You have to be, what, fifty? Oh Christ, that must mean … shit, I'm old.” She laughed as tears began to slowly trickle from her eyes.

“It's okay,” I told her. “I'm forty-eight, and I'm okay. Healthy. Well”—I lifted a hand, gesturing toward my ears—“deaf, but apart from that …”

“You're deaf ?!” She looked down at her father, all at once angry at him, as if he'd known, but hadn't told her. “I'm so sorry! Is this better?! Can you hear me?!”

I wasn't sure what it was about people, but despite having spoken to me for the past several minutes just fine, the moment they learned I was hard of hearing, the need to shout overcame them.

Still, I laughed, knowing she meant well. “I wear hearing aids; you don't need to yell.”

“Look at me, just making an ass of myself. I'm sorry. I—Jesus, this wind is wild today.”

The wind carried with it the scent of cigarettes, and instinctively, I turned and peeked over my shoulder. There, coming down the road toward the parking lot, was a silver SUV I'd begun to know well.

Melanie pulled into the parking lot, slipping into the space beside my truck. She climbed out and came to stand beside me.

“Hey,” she said, sounding a bit breathless. “I didn't hear from you, so I thought I'd—” She cut herself off, as if realizing just then that we weren't alone. “I'm sorry. I'm interrupting something. I can—”

“No, we were just about to leave,” Maxwell said from the passenger seat. “Come on, Carrie.”

Carol glanced at Melanie with a smile but looked back at me with desperation. “Please tell me we'll see you again.”

I nodded with reassurance. “You'll see me again.”

Reluctantly, she let go of my arms. Her hand rose for a moment, her face scrunching with uncertainty, but she laid her palm against my cheek, her thumb scraping against my beard as her eyes filled once again with tears.

“She stole all that time from us,” she whispered. “I'll never forgive her for that.”

Then she walked away, pushing her feet along with purpose, and climbed back into the car. Maxwell gave me a little wave and a smile, and I returned the gesture before closing his door for him.

“You know them?” Melanie asked quietly.

“I do now,” I replied, my voice choked.

Carol and Maxwell backed out of the space, then stopped as the car was put into drive.

The two of them waved out the window, both smiling and elated.

My presence, the proof of my existence, had put that light in their eyes.

These people didn't know me. They didn't know what I'd done in my life, the things I'd done wrong, the people I had hurt …

yet they looked at me with the type of unconditional love I had craved from my father since before I could remember.

“They seem nice,” Melanie said, slipping her arm around mine as we watched Carol and Maxwell drive away and through the cemetery gates.

“They do, yeah,” I replied with a sigh.

She pressed her body to my side. “You read the letter.”

“I did.”

“Are you okay?”

“You mean, am I okay, knowing that my dad fucked a woman he wasn't married to, knocked her up, and lied to me my entire life about who my mother was?”

Melanie's arm tightened its hold in reply.

I couldn't help but laugh at the events of the last twenty-four hours.

Hell, the last several days! The sound was a bit maniacal, like my sanity was holding on by nothing but a fraying thread, yet surprisingly, I didn't feel that way at all.

In fact, apart from the shock, I honestly, truly was okay.

“Yeah,” I said, turning from the view of the cemetery gates to look down at her. Her head lifted to meet my gaze. “I'm fine, and for the first time in maybe forever … I actually mean it.”

***

She had left her kids at Charlie's place to come find me, and now that she had, Lido and I drove with her in her SUV back to the house on the hill to pick them up. On the way over, I called Sid and let him know I was coming.

“Don't fucking scare me like that again, Serg,” he warned before I could hang up.

“Scare you?” I laughed, shaking my head as Melanie drove through the winding cemetery roads. “You were scared ?”

“You fuckin' asshole,” Sid growled, and I realized he was serious. “I shouldn't have to remind you that your history of ignoring calls and texts isn't great. It's usually a bad sign.”

I deflated with a sigh and plonked my elbow onto the window ledge as I reflected for a moment on my troubled past. “You're right. I'm sorry. It was a rough day, kinda crazy, but it's okay. I'll tell you about it later.”

“All right,” he muttered, a bit skeptical, but could I blame him? “Come by whenever.”

“You got it, man.”

The call ended as Melanie pulled the car up to the snowy curb at the foot of Charlie's hill. She looked up toward the house and sighed.

“You ready for this?” she asked, glancing at me.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” she began, shrugging as she nestled into her seat, “the second we go in there, get the kids, and go to your sister's house, I'll know your family, and your family will know me. They'll know my kids. That makes this feel really, really …”

“Real,” I concluded, and she nodded, her eyes holding mine.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Are you ready for that?”

Her hand was resting on her lap, and I reached over and intertwined our fingers as I brought her knuckles to my lips.

“Would it feel fake if you never met them?” I asked.

She slowly shook her head. “No,” she replied softly. “Honestly, I think …” Then she closed her eyes and turned away, inhaling deeply. “Never mind. Let's just—”

“Wait,” I said, giving her hand a gentle tug. “What is it?”

“No, I was just … I was going to say …” She exhaled, opening her eyes but keeping her gaze pinned to something outside her window.

“I think my feelings for you might be the realest thing I've ever known,” she said in a hurry, like she couldn't get the words out fast enough.

“The most … uncomplicated thing. And I keep trying to not be terrified of what that means, but it scares the shit out of me.”

“It scares me too,” I admitted. “But it's not the way I feel about you that scares me. It's knowing that you are going to leave.”

“I was always going to leave, Max,” she reminded me. “We both knew that before we decided to do this.”

“And I already knew that I was always going to die a little more every day that I wasn’t with you. That was always going to happen. But at least now, I have some really, really great memories to keep me company.”

She nodded, sniffling as she lifted her hand to brush away a tear.

“Really, really great memories,” she agreed before coughing and clearing her throat, easily brushing away every wave of emotion like a seasoned professional.

“Well, I guess we should go corral those little monkeys and get the circus on the road.”

She opened the car door and climbed out, and as I watched her start to walk up the cobblestone path to the front door, I thought, Oh, what I would give to be her ringmaster.