Bungalow Nights(61)

So it was time to seek out his father, he thought, sobering. His uncle and Fitz were playing pool in the billiards room, Layla looking on. William Smith stood by the French doors leading to the back terrace, his hands behind his back, staring into the night.

As Vance hesitated in the doorway, considering the best approach, he felt a light touch on his shoulder. He swung around, found himself looking into Blythe’s blue eyes.

“Can we talk a minute?” she asked.

With a nod, he followed her into the deserted living room. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he noted how nervous she looked. “Hey,” he said softly, guilt pinching because he’d been avoiding this talk. Stupid of him, when he was past the hurt. “It’s okay. It’s all right.”

A half smile eased Blythe’s tense expression. “I’m starting to think so, since you and your brother have made amends.”

Vance nodded again. “We did. We’re good.”

“I never meant to come between you and Fitz.”

“Understood,” Vance replied. And he meant it.

A silence welled. “I liked you,” she said suddenly, breaking it. “I liked you a lot.”

“I liked you, too.”

“So when you told me you were going overseas, going into danger...” Her fingers were clutched together at her slender waist. “It felt a little bit patriotic and a lot...a lot romantic to get engaged.”

He smiled this time. “You’re such a girl, Blythe.”

“I know, huh?” A blush crept up her face. “It’s embarrassing, what a dork I am.”

“No.” He laughed, realized how little he’d really known her. Elegant Blythe thought she had dorkish moments? Still waters indeed. “I shouldn’t have asked you to marry me when I was on my way back to combat. I should have realized the situation might compel you to say yes.”

Her head tilted. “So why did you ask me?”

“Truth?”

It was her turn to nod.

“To impress my parents. And, if I’m completely honest, because you are such the right woman for Fitz.”

Her eyes widened, and one hand flew up to cover her heart. “Really?”

He could see that his answer had, in some odd way, pleased her. “Really.”

“So, I don’t have to feel so terrible about being with him though I broke up with you?”

“Don’t feel terrible about that for another second,” he said. “Fitz is the right one for you, too.”

Wearing a bemused expression, she just stared at Vance. “He loves you, you know.”

“Yeah.” Vance smiled. “He also loves you.”

“Yeah.” Her smile was just as wide as his. “So...we’re okay now?”

“Not quite. I’ve still got a page or two of sorrys I need to express. Because face it, beautiful lady, without me you wouldn’t have met the chump—and now you’re stuck with him for life.”

She laughed. “Why don’t you save all that for the wedding toast? Something tells me you’re going to be tapped for best man.”

Grinning at the idea, he watched his brother’s fiancée walk off toward the kitchen. That had gone well, he thought. Really well. Then he turned back to the billiards room, hoping his next conversation would meet with the same level of success. William Smith hadn’t left his post by the French doors.

“Dad?” Vance said, and his father turned around. “Can I have a word?”

By tacit agreement, they stepped outside.

They paced in matching strides away from the house, stopping at the low wall surrounding the terrace. In front of them was the black hulk of the hill planted with the first of Vance’s grandfather’s avocados. In the warm darkness he could feel the trees growing, their roots spreading to lick at the well water pumped into the irrigation lines, their leaves relaxing after a day soaking in the sun’s heat. Though he’d never told anyone this, Vance swore he could hear a humming coming from the swelling fruit, a contented sound of health and goodness.

As always, it calmed him.

“You should have let Pinkerton Elementary School put my desk in one of the nearby groves,” he mused aloud. “I probably would have learned a lot more and been a hell of a lot less trouble in the classroom.”

“You weren’t that bad,” his father said.

“Yeah, I was.”

His dad laughed. “You got your high school diploma. I breathed a lot easier after that. Your GPA wasn’t even terrible, though at the end of every semester you were facing a D in at least one class.”

“Would always find a stack of homework in my backpack I’d forgotten to turn in.”

“Yet you made it out.” His father was quiet a moment. “I’m still a little sorry you didn’t get your bachelor’s, though.”

“But I did.”

Even in the dark, he could see the other man’s head whip toward him. “What?”

“After I came back from Afghanistan the first time.” Vance wondered why he’d never mentioned it. Though they’d been at odds, he’d still maintained occasional contact with the family over the years. Stubborn pride, he decided, was another of his failings.

“I thought you worked for the Ochoas.”

“Turns out I’m a multitasker. I didn’t get a degree in business like Fitz and Baxter, though. It’s agricultural management.”

“Ah,” his dad said, rocking back on his heels. “I’m pleased for you, son. Congratulations.”

Avocado country was quiet at night. Vance took in a breath and it seemed to go more silent, the insects hushing, too. Just get it out, he told himself. See if you can get your life back on track.

“Dad,” he said, at the same moment his father turned to him.

“Vance.”

Their laughter sounded strained.

“Let me say my piece first.” Vance took in another breath. “Dad, I want to apologize.”

“Apologize? For what?”

“For my thoughtlessness when I was growing up. I know I was a pain in the ass to monitor as a young kid.” He thought of those photos. Of those three totaled vehicles. “And worse when I was a teenager.”

His father sighed. “Your mother couldn’t sleep most nights from worry.”

He was going to have to face her down, too, Vance thought, but he thought she’d forgive him. What he wanted from his father would be more difficult to obtain. “I suppose it didn’t get any better when I joined the army.”

“No.”

“It was good for me, Dad. I can’t apologize for that because—”

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” the older man interrupted. “Today...” He stopped speaking for a moment to pace away, then pace back. “I’ve been angry at you for scaring the hell out of me all of your life, Vance. But I saw with my own two eyes the value of that fearlessness of yours today.”

“Oh, I was sweating plenty out there. I’ve been scared any number of times in the army, too.”

“But you did the job. With confidence. With compassion. That’s how you were with that boy out there. That’s how I’m sure you were with the soldiers you worked to save.”

“It’s what I was trained to do.”

“And I’m proud of you for it, son.” He hesitated again. “I admire you.”

God. Blowing out a breath, Vance shoved his hands in his pockets, strangely nonplussed. “I...I don’t know what to say.” He hadn’t expected to hear anything like this from his father, so the script he’d worked out in his head wasn’t right any longer.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

But he did. His days as a combat medic had done wonders for him as a man, but that career hadn’t been his first dream...nor was it the one he had now. In order to attain it, he’d have to do as Baxter advised and say what he wanted. Vance took his hands from his pockets, spread out his fingers then curled them again to shove them back in his pants. Okay, he was stalling.

Don’t scuttle your second chances.

All right. He’d take his own advice. “I’m going to ask again, Dad. It’s been a few years and I’m hoping your answer will be different this time.”

His father stayed silent, but tension radiated from him.

Vance felt his own muscles tighten. His chest hurt a little as he sucked in another breath. “With Baxter leaving, Smith & Sons Foods is down a son. I was hoping you could find a place for me in the company.”

A long moment of silence passed. “You see Fitz moving into Baxter’s work and you doing Fitz’s—as well as the grove management tasks?” his father finally asked.

“Bax,” Vance muttered, like a curse. Clearly he’d been talking to the family about this already. “Well, I did the management for the Ochoas. GreenWise is okay, but—”