Page 35 of Meet Me at Sunset Cove (Jonathon Island #5)

Chapter Eighteen

T he early-morning sun simmered in the steam off the lake, lying like fog upon the water.

Hunter sat on the dock, the sounds of ice chunks crushing against one another over the quiet harbor, his elbows resting on his knees, head hanging low.

In his hand, his grandma’s ring weighed him down, the stone cutting into his palm.

He couldn’t look at it anymore. He closed the ring box and tucked it back into his pocket.

The last week had been a nightmare. First there had been the video itself.

The words cut deep, etched into his memory.

And then there had been the reactions. His dad’s.

His brothers’. But worst of all, his grandpa’s.

Hunter’s face burned just thinking about the look of betrayal and disappointment that had been heavy in the old man’s eyes.

Things were fraying already. It was just a matter of time…

And what was he doing? Sitting on a cold dock, waiting for a ferry to meet up with his brothers so he could watch his mom marry someone he’d never met.

A pair of footsteps thumped quietly against the dock, and Hunter lifted his head.

Tara Chamberlain stood beside the bench, her winter coat cinched tight at the waist. She held two cups of coffee in her gloved hands, a soft smile on her lips. “Good morning, Hunter. Do you mind if I join you?”

He let out a breath. This was not what he needed right now. He scooted over. “Have at it.”

Tara quietly perched on the bench. Extended one of the steaming cups toward him. “I spotted you on my way to Good Day. I wasn’t sure if you’d still be here, but I grabbed you a coffee.”

Hunter frowned in surprise. “Thank you.”

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them as the ferry appeared in the distance.

“Where’s Daisy today?” Tara asked, taking a sip from her cup. “I’d gotten used to seeing you two together.”

Hunter turned the cup in his hands, letting the heat warm his palms. “She’s gone. It’s over. I guess she finally saw what everyone does about me.”

It was a heavy statement. Not something he wanted to share with someone so familiar with his failures. But he couldn’t seem to hold the words back. Tara had been like a mother to him once, and maybe there was a part of him that really needed that right now.

Tara tilted her head. “What is it you think everyone sees in you, Hunter?”

Hunter licked his lips. Discomfort creeping up his throat.

He glanced away, focusing on the sheets of ice in the bay, reflecting the sun.

“I think they see every bad thing that’s happened to me as one more piece of baggage…

I think they see a million broken pieces.

The ruins of an old house. They see me as too much work. ”

“Is that what you think I see in you?” she asked quietly.

“I think it’s why you look at me the way you do.” The words scraped his throat. “I think I let you down when I didn’t protect Belle the way I should have. I think you realized that the people in my life end up getting hurt or getting out. You got out. And who would blame you?”

Again, the heavy silence.

“Hunter Barrett. It was not your responsibility to protect Belle,” Tara said, her breath hanging in the air.

“She made the choice to jump into that water. It was a choice I wish she hadn’t made, but never for a moment did I blame you for it…

But I couldn’t look at you without seeing that terrified look on your face when we showed up at the hospital.

When I look at you, I relive the most terrifying night of my life. And that’s not fair to you…I’m sorry.”

Hunter lifted his head. All these years…“Thank you.”

The ferry pulled up to the dock, and Hunter swallowed a heavy breath.

“Where are you headed?” Tara asked.

“I’m supposed to be heading to my mom’s wedding…”

“You know,” Tara leaned toward him, her shoulder bumping his. “Sometimes people leave when things get hard…but sometimes they stay, Hunter. And sometimes they come back…if you let them.”

Hunter thumbed the seam of his coffee cup. “That sounds like a pretty good way to get hurt all over again.”

Tara let out a peaceful breath. “Yes, it does. But God calls us to trust Him that when we get hurt, He’ll stick around to pick up the pieces”

Do you know why we built the trust that way?…To create a legacy built on faith.

Hunter’s brow furrowed as he absorbed her words. He swallowed. “I’m not sure I know how to trust God.”

“That’s a hard one to learn, so I’ll just tell you what helped for me.” Tara wrapped an arm around his shoulder, giving it a motherly squeeze. “It takes practice, and prayer, and most importantly, listening. God’s not going to hide from those who seek Him. He doesn’t walk away, Hunt.”

The ferry began to load with passengers.

“You getting on?” she asked.

Hunter took in a deep breath. “Yeah, I think so.”

* * *

Daisy’s dreams were dead. And so were her plants. Maybe that was being a little dramatic, but as she stood at the window of her Los Angeles studio apartment with her cute little watering can and tried to revive a crispy brown pothos plant, she wasn’t so sure.

Giving up, Daisy set the watering can aside and turned back to the pitiful little apartment. She’d arrived home a few days ago and still the studio smelled like dust and stale air. Daisy shuffled the three feet to the couch and slumped face down into the cushions.

“You hoo!” Robin called from the front door.

Daisy groaned in response.

Her friend lived conveniently across the hall and had been “popping by” to check on her every few hours since Daisy’s return. Apparently, there was just something about her that screamed, ‘I’m not okay!’ She couldn’t imagine what it was.

“Oh,” Robin said, edging gently into the living room area. “All right, we made it out of bed. That’s a start.”

“Yaaaay,” Daisy said flatly.

“Okay, sweetie, why don’t we sit up. I’m a little worried about airflow,” Robin said, pulling Daisy up. “Great job, babe.” She stood and glanced around the room, apparently taking note at the lack of change since she’d last been there. “So, how did your little assignment go?”

“What assignment?” Daisy mumbled.

“Your assignment to do just…one thing.”

Daisy pointed at the laptop, sitting open on the coffee table, her bathrobe slumping down over her finger. “I edited the last episode.”

Robin’s brows rose in surprise. “Okay! Well that’s something.”

“Don’t think I’ll upload it though…not sure what the point would be. We’ve got like three followers left. And I’m pretty sure two of them are in this room.”

Robin let out an exasperated breath. “Come on, Daisy. This isn’t you.”

Daisy looked at her hands and dropped them back to the couch dramatically.

Okay, sure, she was being a little melodramatic. But her career had been catastrophically destroyed, her love life torpedoed, and all her plants were dead. What did this woman expect from her?

“Okay, well. I’m going to need you to do whatever you gotta do to pull yourself together because…

I got you into that meeting with the HGTV execs!

We’re flying out Monday morning, and we’ll be in the office by that afternoon,” she announced, as though that were the greatest thing to ever happen to both of them.

“It took some convincing, but they are willing to hear us out and talk options for the future.”

Daisy tried to muster a weak yay, but it came out more like a gurgle.

“Daisy,” Robin said flatly, her brow furrowed with concern. “This is your career we’re talking about. You’ve got to pick up the pieces or you’ll be left behind.”

Then came a suggestion that made Daisy’s stomach churn. “I think the first thing we should do is clear the air. Release a statement about the video,” Robin said, her voice cautious. “People need to know you didn’t say those things and the video is fake.”

Daisy wanted to cry. They’d never believe it. She had no proof it was a deepfake. And despite her suspicions over Logan’s involvement, she couldn’t publicly accuse him of something like that. Especially not when he held her career in his hands.

She pulled her knees up to her chest, burying her face in her arms, and let out a long groan of frustration. How had it come to this?

She felt Robin sink down on the sofa beside her, a comforting hand start circling her back. “You know I’m just trying to help, right, babe?”

“I know,” Daisy replied, her voice watery.

“Okay.”

Another minute ticked by before Robin whispered, “I gotta get to work, but I’ll be by tonight. We can workshop something. You don’t have to play nice with Logan if you don’t want to.”

Daisy felt a kiss on the top of her head, and then she was alone again, tears stinging her throat. She lifted her head to wipe her eyes and spotted her phone, abandoned on the coffee table. She reached for it and opened her contacts, found who she was looking for, and hit the Call button.

The phone rang twice before a familiar voice answered. “Daisy. Hey, sweetie.”

“Mom,” Daisy choked out, her voice cracking with emotion.

“Oh, honey. It’s okay.” Her mom said, her voice soft. She didn’t ask what was wrong. She’d probably seen it all over Daisy’s social media pages. And she didn’t ask if she was all right. She knew. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” Daisy whispered, a fat tear trailing down her cheek. “I just…I didn’t want you to see me fail. I didn’t want to call until I was back on track.”

“Daisy.”

“I just…I told myself I’d call as soon as I had my life under control…and I don’t know what I’m going to do now. Everything’s a mess.” And she wished she was back home, in that little house they’d made their own all those years ago.

“It’s okay, sweetie. I knew you were waiting.”

“You did?”

Her mom let out a quiet laugh. “Yes.”

“How?”

She half expected her mom to say her standard answer of “mom magic” but she didn’t. Instead, she said, “Because you always wanted everything to be just right. You never let me step in and rescue you. Never asked for help. But I always hoped you knew it was there.”

“I knew,” Daisy whispered. A comforting quiet filled their call, and then Daisy said, “Mom, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“You remember the day you came home with all the painting supplies? The day we started renovating together?”

“I do.”

“What happened?” Daisy asked. “What happened to make you do that?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. “It was something your dad did. Or rather, what he didn’t do.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember your Knowledge Bowl competition back in middle school?”

Daisy nodded, then remembered her mother couldn’t see her. “Yeah.”

“Your father…he decided not to come home to see you compete. Said he’d show up if you made it to the championships.

When you did something…worth seeing. And something in me just snapped.

” Her mother’s voice grew stronger. “You deserved a better dad, Daisy. One who didn’t see you as just the sum of your accomplishments.

Because no matter how hard you tried, you could never live up to his impossible standards. ”

Daisy felt tears rolling down her cheeks, but she remained silent, listening.

“I couldn’t give you a better dad, but I could give you a place that felt safe and special. So I went out and bought whatever I thought we needed to create a home where you could just be you, without the pressure to achieve something great. No blueprints. No plans. Just you.”

“Mom,” Daisy whispered, her voice cracking again.

“I’ve been so proud to see you successful in your career, honey.

But do you know what my favorite thing was?

When you were just starting out. When you were doing that YouTube channel, helping people turn their average homes into places that felt special and safe.

You were doing for others what I tried to do for you. ”

Daisy was reminded of the church service Hunter had taken her to that first day they were “engaged.” Fortunately for us, God’s grace is sufficient.

He doesn’t tally up our good works. He doesn’t compare them against the saints, or the celebrities, or even our neighbors.

He gives life we don’t deserve, out of a love we could never earn.

Daisy wiped a tear from her cheek, her face hot and her throat thick. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, Daisy. All of you.”