“We’re here Mama!”

Carter squirms in his mother’s arms as she pulls him from the car seat. I smooth my skirt down as I step from her car into the sunny morning air a block away from Marsden Park. Well, soon to be the Jacob Hammond park.

It’s a weird thought, realizing that my family is such a part of this town that our name is going to literally be on the map after today. That’s all my parents, though. My mother, the music teacher at Harborview Elementary for thirty years. And of course my dad, the magnanimous, big hearted, strong-willed Congregationalist minister. Founder of two different soup kitchens, one of the biggest fundraising drivers for the North Boston home for boys, and general pillar of the community.

It was crazy to hear about the park renaming, but not anything that surprising considering my dad’s place in this town. Well, that and considering that literally no one - including the Shelter Harbor historical society - can remember who the heck Marsden was, or why the park is named after him.

Who better than Jacob Hammond?

Mom and Dad and Sierra get out of their car parked right in front of us just as Rowan’s distinctively loud Indian motorcycle goes roaring past us.

It’s an important day, and rightfully so. But my mind is honestly everywhere but on the fact that my family’s name is about to be emblazoned across the park where I learned to ride a bike, or where Sierra broke an arm on the monkey bars.

It’s on the man whose touch I can still feel from the night before.

Whose lips I can still taste.

I force a smile to my face though as my mom puts her arm around me, all of us making our way to the gazebo in the middle of the park where the white folding chairs and podium is laid out for the dedication ceremony.

“I’m just glad I’ve got so many of my babies at home for once!” she gushes, giving me a squeeze.

Well, all of us except for Kyle, who’s got a work thing and gets a pass. But even if “work” wasn’t “the FBI”, Kyle would always get a pass being the golden boy in our dad’s eyes.

After all, he’s got two sons, and one of them didn’t manage to almost get himself killed escaping an armored truck robbery with Silas Hart.

But that’s in the past, and it should stay there.

* * *

Mayor Thompson finishes her speech, and the crowd of people assembled in the park cheer as my dad takes the small stage. There’s a plaque given, and more words about everything our he’s done and how the Hammond name is a “pillar of the community.”

But it’s not thirty seconds into Dad’s acceptance speech when I look up into the crowd, and my heart jumps.

Silas stands at the back of the crowd, watching it all. He’s cleaned up from the t-shirt and jeans look I’ve seen him in so far back in town, wearing a charcoal grey suit this time, the jacket open to a well-fitted shirt, and a tie.

Silas Hart has never worn a tie in his entire damn life. Hell, he didn’t even wear one to prom.

He nods and claps when my dad accepts the award, and again when he ceremoniously cuts away the sheet covering the new sign for the park that’ll bear our name.

Watching him there, I’m not thinking about the “good” Hammond name, and its established place in this town.

I’m thinking about the boy that wasn’t from the right side of town.

The boy with the broken past.

The boy with the home I couldn’t visit.

The boy that was all wrong for me that I couldn’t and had no intention of ever saying no to.

What was I thinking?

When you’re young, you know everything. More than that, you know everything, and anyone who tries to tell you otherwise is wrong.

I realize now, as an adult, how moronically self involved that is.

I was drawn to Silas because of that darkness that followed him. I was pulled into that storm inside his eyes, heedless of what anyone had to say about it. Because back then, no one was going to change my mind.

I blink as the crowd cheers again, realizing I’ve been staring at Silas for the last few minutes across the crowd.

He’s staring right back at me, and as the crowd claps as my dad leaves the stage, I tear my eyes away, remembering to bring my own hands together. I glance back after a second, but he’s gone from the spot he stood moments before.

“Congrats, Dad.” Rowan claps Dad on the shoulder as Sierra throws her arms around him.

“Pop-pop!” Carter squeals as our dad picks him up.

“Hammond Park, huh?” Rowan grins, pushing his hair back from his face. “So are we on the lookout for any Marsden descendants looking for blood today?”

My dad chuckles deeply, a warm rumbling sound. And I’m turning to smile at him when I suddenly see his face drop as his whole body stiffens.

I turn back, following my dad’s cold stare, and there he is.

Silas.

Silas, eye-to-eye with my father for the first time since that night in the ER waiting room.

“Oh-” my mother starts, bringing her hand to her mouth and drawing in a breath as she sees the boy who was all but a third son to her standing right in front of us.

Dad clears his throat slowly, his eyes never leaving Silas. “You’ve got a lot of damn nerve, son,” he says gruffly. His eyes dart to Rowan, and then me. I cringe, wondering if everything from last night is written all over my face.

Silas slowly shakes his head. “I don’t mean to start anything, sir, I just-”

“You just what.”

Dad steps towards Silas, his large frame drawn up high and protective.

Stella reaches out with a hand. “Dad-”

“Dad, I asked him to be here.” Rowan steps forward, shaking his head at our dad.

“You what?” Dad turns a stern scowl on our older brother, narrowing his eyes at him.

“It’s an important day, sir,” Silas says slowly. “I know-” he clears his throat. “Whatever the past, I didn’t want to miss something important like this for the Hammond family.” He looks my dad right in the eye.

“No matter what happened.”

Dad holds his gaze a moment longer before he mutters something under his breath and looks away.

“You do what you like, son.” He turns back to Silas, his look solemn as he towers over him.

“Just stay away from my family.”

My mom is still looking at Silas like she wants to either cry or hug him - maybe both. Dad puts an arm over her shoulders though as he turns. “Let’s go.” His eyes drop meaningfully to me, his look stern.

I look back at Silas for a moment, wanting to say something, but knowing I can’t.

“Good to see you, man,” Rowan mumbles, nodding stiffly at Silas as my dad glowers at him.

Silas’s eyes dart to mine, holding them just for a second before he nods, turns, and walks away.

My sisters and Carter and our parents start to walk back to the cars. Rowan blows air out through his lips.

“Well, fuck. That went well,” he growls.

I shake my head. “Dad’s never going to forgive him, is he?”

“For that night?” Rowan frowns and looks at his feet.

“Maybe? Probably not?” He sighs. “I don’t know, Ivy.”

“Even though he knows Silas was only there that night stopping you from doing the job.”

“Jacob Hammond and his convictions,” Rowan mutters. “You know Dad. In his eyes, Silas fucked up my path, even though I never wanted that path anyways. I’ve told him a hundred different ways what happened that night, and what could have gone so much worse if Silas hadn’t been there.”

“He just doesn’t care?”

“He just sees Silas as the root of it all. I mean, Dad had a certain idea for all of us growing up, and a plan he thought we’d all follow. But then I’m busted stealing that six-pack, you’re dating Silas Hart, Stella’s off talking fuckin’ marriage with that asshat Mitch.” He shrugs. “That night was just the culmination of a lot of shit, Ivy.”

“And Silas got the full brunt of it.”

Rowan snorts. “Oh, believe me, I took a fucking sermon from Dad in that hospital bed. If I wasn’t his own flesh and blood, I’d be as gone as Silas, trust me.”

“Silas was basically his flesh and blood,” I say heatedly, my face darkening as I think of the unfairness of it all.

My brother nods. “I know, Ivy.” He meets my eyes. “No one said it was fair, it’s just the way things shook out.”

He frowns. “How is it, by the way? Seeing Silas, I mean.”

I swallow the heat from my face as I casually reach for my phone as a sort of cover. “Oh, fine,” I shrug. “I mean, you know, the past is the past. We were kids back then.”

“You loved him back then,” Rowan says quietly.

I look up from my phone, swallowing the pain and the memories that threaten to come tearing out as I put on a forced smile.

“It was a long time ago, Row.”

He nods before he glances at his watch. “Hey, I’ve got a bar that needs opening.” He looks up at me with a grin. “Feel like helping?”

“Does it come with a free drink?”

My older brother laughs as he puts his arm around my shoulders. “Today, Slimy, it comes with three.”