The Summer Getaway: A Novel(38)

Harlow arrived at work and went in search of her brother. He was crewing for one of the other captains, and she found him inspecting the child-sized life jackets.

“Hey,” he said when he saw her.

“Mom’s not at the house.” She heard the panic in her voice. “Do you know where she is?”

“Yeah. She’s in Santa Barbara visiting Lillian. Didn’t she tell you?”

“No. We’re not speaking. I can’t believe she would leave without saying anything.”

Austin’s mouth thinned. “Jeez, Harlow, what did you do this time?”

“What does that even mean?”

“You’re...” He paused. “You’re difficult lately. More so than usual. It’s like you’re always mad.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He shrugged. “Whatever. Mom’s in California. Now you know.”

“You’re pissed at me. Why?”

“Because you’re mean to Mom. A lot. What is she doing that’s so bad?”

“I’m not mean. She only thinks of herself. Selling the house when she knows I—”

Austin shook his head. “Seriously? Tell you what—you pay for it just one month and then we’ll talk.”

“You know it’s expensive?” She wouldn’t have thought him that aware.

“Sure. We’ve talked about her selling it and moving someplace cheaper. I’m fine with that. Dad’s money is going to end someday. You’re already gone, I’ll be gone, and then what? Who’s looking out for her?”

Harlow wanted to say that he was just being a suck-up, only Austin had always been the steady one who could see both sides of a situation. A sometimes annoying but mostly satisfying characteristic.

“I just didn’t think she’d take off without talking to me,” she grumbled.

“Then text her.” He frowned. “Not right now. It’s four thirty in the morning there.”

“I’ll think about it.”

His mouth twisted. “Why do you always have to take the hard road?”

“I can’t help it. That’s kind of my thing.”

“Dumbass thing, if you ask me.” But he was smiling as he spoke.

Harlow lunged for him. He caught her easily, twisting her until she was bent nearly in half, then tickled her. She squealed and wriggled away.

“Don’t do that!” she said, but she was laughing as she spoke.

“Can’t help it. Tickling you is kind of my thing.”

She leaned against him. “Don’t tell, but I miss her.”

“Me, too. Having my own apartment isn’t the party I thought it would be.”

“I’ll text her.”

Austin shook his head. “You’re too stubborn. One day you have to suck it up and admit you don’t know everything.”

“One day,” she agreed with a grin. “But not today.”

She stored her bag in her locker, then got to work, checking out her boat before her charter. When that was done, she went into the office to complete the paperwork. Her dad was at his desk.

“How’s it going, kid?” he said when he saw her.

“Good. I have a charter in a bit.”

“We’re busy. That’s good.”

She thought about asking about the business plan. He’d promised to review it, but hadn’t said anything yet. But instead of mentioning that, she found herself saying, “Dad, was your divorce mutual?”

He looked at her, his expression quizzical. “What brought this on?”

“I don’t know. I was thinking about it. When you told me and Austin, you two didn’t get into details. Everything was already worked out.”

They’d obviously been planning it for a while. Harlow remembered how angry she’d been when she’d figured out that her parents had been waiting for her to graduate from high school before making the announcement. She’d felt so betrayed, with the lie of omission burning deep. Now, looking back, she saw it as an act of kindness. Her parents hadn’t wanted their decision to disrupt her senior year.

She looked at her father. No, not her parents. Her mother. She’d been the one to make that call.

“Dad, did you cheat on Mom?”

Her father’s brows rose. “Why would you ask that?”

His falsely hearty tone was answer enough. She felt her shoulders slump as questions assaulted her. Who? When? How many times? The weight of it all nearly pushed her to the ground.

“Did she know? Is that why you got a divorce?”

He looked away. “There were problems, Harlow. Marriage is complicated.”

She straightened, then repeated. “Dad, did you cheat on Mom, and is that why you got a divorce?”

He looked at her. “Yes.”

Her stomach lurched. “Okay,” she whispered.

“There were other factors. Your mother—”

She held up a hand. “I’ve got a charter, Dad. I have to go.”

She walked out of the office. On her boat, she drew in a couple of breaths, trying to make sense of what she’d learned, only to realize that wasn’t possible. With a few simple words, her worldview had shifted. For reasons unclear, she’d always assumed her mom had been more at fault for the divorce than her dad. Maybe because, as Kip had pointed out, it was easier for her to be mad at her mom.