Walls
Under the lamplight on his dock, Cooper scooted the two-by-four he’d just cut against the previous board until their edges were flush. He sat back on his heels and pushed his hair off his forehead with his arm.
What was Drew thinking, springing a visit on him like this? He didn’t have time to listen to whatever lecture was bound to be the reason his brother was coming. He had a deadline approaching whether anyone wanted it to or not. An in-person argument wasn’t going to change that.
Cooper withdrew his hammer from his tool belt and drove a nail through the wood with more force than necessary. The blunt echo shuddered across the still water and disappeared in the rustle of tree branches waving in the wind.
A creak from the boards closest to his yard brought Quinn into focus, walking barefoot across the planks. She pointed the baby monitor behind her. “He conked right out.”
“He had a long day.”
“Didn’t we all,” she mumbled. Sitting on the bench at the end of the pier, she set the monitor beside her and lifted one of the boards he’d propped against the seat. “Nothing like the smell of cedar.” She twisted it on its edge in slow, mindless circles.
Going to her parents’ had been more taxing on her than he’d expected. But he’d caught glimpses of a homesick girl tonight. One who wasn’t willing to admit she missed parts of what she’d left behind. How could he help her lower those walls?
Above them, a clear dark sky showcased the stars in the kind of summer night stories were written about.
She ran her fingers along the smooth grains he’d sanded before she’d come out. “Chase and I used to race to Dad’s workshop whenever he was in there, so eager to help him.” A sad laugh tugged at her lips. “I’m sure he had to go back and fix everything we messed up, but he never said anything about it. Never complained. He always seemed happy to have us nearby.” She set the wood aside. “Even made us feel like we’d helped make something special.”
A wistful gaze gravitated across the shore and into memories he could almost feel from here. Truth be told, they could’ve been his own memories. Their fathers sounded very similar.
An unbidden lump built in his throat. Forcing it down, Cooper checked the time on his phone and unbuckled his tool belt. It was too late to be out here making noise. But he’d been doing what he did best—pushing limits.
He stood and gathered the rest of the boards into a pile. “You two seem close.”
“We were.”
Cooper didn’t miss the ache in those words. “Until the dementia?” No one had labeled her father’s illness, but it wasn’t too hard to guess.
Another splintered look passed her eyes. “It started out with little things at first. Forgetting where he’d left something, missing appointments. But then . . .” Her voice trailed into the wind, taking his heart with it.
He sat beside her. “It must be hard to watch someone you love deteriorate in front of you. Is that why you left?”
“More the other way around.”
He searched her face, but her thoughts seemed to keep her focus on the gentle ripples lapping against the bank.
“You should’ve seen him when I got engaged. He was so happy for me. So proud. Like life was finally complete.” She coiled a pine needle around her finger. “Honestly, I was happy too.”
“What happened?”
“Things changed. I changed. After Brian and I broke up, I moved to Hatteras, thinking I could do something with my writing.” Dejection plagued her voice as she chucked the needle into the water. “Guess you could say I needed to start over. Away from the disappointment I would’ve seen if I’d stayed.”
Had they been looking at the same man tonight? “I only saw love in your dad’s eyes.”
She swept a glance away from him. “The more someone loves you, the more you can disappoint them.”
The words drilled into him with reminders of the last conversation he’d had with Dad. If you could even call it that. Cooper letting his father down was one thing. But Quinn? No chance.
The bench’s top edge creased into the bottom of his shoulder blades as he stretched backward. “I get it, QT. Trust me. But if I was you, I’d take the risk before it’s too late.”
“Were you,” she said after a quiet moment.
He turned and caught an untamable and entirely too cute grin.
“When using the subjunctive, it’s were, not was.”
“Right. Because now’s the perfect time to bring up a random grammar rule.”
Her sweet laugh tumbled past her scrunched lips. “Sorry. I told you I was lame. I can’t help it.”
He shook his head. “You, Quinn Thompson, are anything but lame. And I have no doubt that includes your writing.”
A gorgeous shade of pink tinted her cheeks. But rather than look away, intuitive eyes studied him underneath the glow of the pier light.
One of the neighbor’s boats passed by them. Tiny waves swelled toward the shore, drawing in the solemnity of the earlier moment.
“You lost your dad, didn’t you?” she asked.
Cooper rose and loosened his neck instead of answering. Facing the clear water, he leaned an arm against the light post. “He was a good carpenter. Taught me what I know.”
“About boats too?” Quinn stood beside him now and motioned to his speedboat.
She didn’t miss much, did she?
“He was in the Coast Guard before opening a souvenir shop in Ocracoke.” Countless hours spent with him on the ocean garnered a smile. “Not that retiring kept him off the water. The man was out in his old skiff whenever he had the chance.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, how’d he die?”
Cooper kicked a splinter of wood into the water, wishing the dark memories still haunting him would sink with it. “He drowned while trying to rescue a family caught in a storm.”
“I’m so sorry.” A gentle hand smoothed over the back of his shoulder.
He breathed in at her soft touch. Words weren’t usually hard for him, but this topic . . . Or maybe it was something about her, the things she stirred.
“That’s why you’re opening a boat shop, isn’t it? To honor him.”
Why he bothered to withhold anything from her, he had no idea.
“I owe him that much.” He backed against the pole and ran a knuckle down his jawline. “My brother was always the golden child. Walked right in his footsteps like second nature.” And he was good at it, made for it even: awesome dad, responsible business owner, admirable husband. “Drew took over the souvenir shop when we lost him.”
“You didn’t want it?”
He wrinkled his nose. “Not my scene.”
The slightest touch of her arm grazed his. “But?”
“But nothing. It worked out exactly as it should’ve.” He rolled his flip-flop back and forth over a loose nail. “Drew was always the one Dad counted on to take care of things.”
“Does that bother you?”
“Only if I let it.” Which he had no right to. He was the one who’d played into the reckless little brother label people had given him. He’d learned long ago it wasn’t worth defying people’s assumptions. They’d believe whatever they wanted anyway, so why not prove them right?
He picked up the nail and crammed it into his pocket with thoughts better left buried.
“Seems ironic,” she said slowly. “You want to move across the world to open a boat shop for your dad, but you won’t get in the boat sitting right here.”
Cooper followed another nod to the speedboat he’d left untouched all summer. “That has nothing to do with my dad.”
“You sure about that?”
A tendon on his neck constricted. “Save your psychoanalysis, okay?” The harsh words rebounded into him with regret the moment they’d rushed out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
His heart sank at her hopefulness. Because, truthfully, part of him longed for her to be right. But it didn’t matter. Whether he stayed or moved, he’d be letting someone down. At least Brayden still had time left to one day understand.
He steeled himself. “I already told you. I have to leave the Fourth.”
“But why?”
“Because.” Cooper turned and thrust his fingers through the back of his hair until a labored exhale gradually released them. He could withhold the answer all he wanted. It wouldn’t change it.
“Dad and I were supposed to take a cross-country trip the summer he died. I’d been begging him since I was ten. Had this whole epic journey planned out—just me and him, you know? Something neither of us would ever forget.”
“Starting on the Fourth?”
“I said it was going to be epic, didn’t I?” A wave of guilt absorbed his laugh till it felt like he was trying to breathe under water. “But I was too busy that summer. Too caught up in my new job offer at Shore Corp and my chance to get out of Ocracoke.” His voice dissolved to a whisper. “And then it was too late.”
A storm like the one from the night Dad died raged inside him. “I should’ve been there, Quinn. I could’ve helped Drew. Could’ve saved him.”
“It’s not your fault.”
Shaking his head, he smiled sadly. “You know, I got in a car accident the night of his funeral. Being reckless, angry. I could’ve died or been paralyzed. But nothing, not even a broken bone.” He dug his fingers through his hair. “I did everything wrong, while he—”
“Coop.”
“I’ve been nothing but selfish for years, putting off this trip because it wasn’t convenient. This is my last chance to do it. If I cancel again, it’s never gonna happen.” He swallowed before facing her. “I need to do this for him, Quinn.” For both of them, if he was being honest.
“Are you sure that’s really what this is all about?”
Cooper released a long breath instead of responding. Truthfully, he didn’t have an answer. At least, not one he was ready to face.
A damp breeze rolled off the west end of the lake and swirled around them. Rather than press further, she simply rubbed her arms and gave him the space he needed.
Minutes drifted in the quiet. Though time never fully healed wounds as deep as his, something about the time he spent with Quinn lessened the ache. Even in the silence.
“What you were saying about your brother,” she said slowly. “The comparisons . . . Is that why you’re upset he’s coming?”
“Nah.” Cooper swatted a mosquito away. “I just don’t want to deal with him trying to change my mind about leaving.”
“Maybe he only wants the chance to say goodbye.” Chin lowered, Quinn tucked her hands in her back pockets. “You said you lived with them last year. That you were close with your niece.”
One sting followed another. “We spent a lot of time together while Drew was working to keep the shop open.”
“Hence your knowledge of teen girls and tans.”
He chuckled, grateful for the reprieve. “Maddie loves to paddle board. Loves anything to do with the ocean, really. And don’t get her started on sea turtles.” Thoughts of her soothed and ached at the same time. Saying goodbye wouldn’t be easy. “She has this way of looking at the world. Brave, accepting. Tackles life’s setbacks like they’re nothing but a bump in the road.”
“Setbacks?”
“She started to get real sick a few years ago. Turns out she has an autoimmune disease. She’s doing much better,” he quickly amended when Quinn’s eyes filled with concern. “But Drew had a pretty rough go of it the first two years.”
“Sounds like it was a good thing you were there to help.”
“Help?” He shrugged. “Drew’s too prideful to ask for help. I’m not sure how much I did anyway.”
“Quinn.”
“I know. I know.” A small wrinkle furrowed between her brows. “But you have as much love to offer Brayden as you do for Maddie. Don’t you think he’s worth your time too?”
“Of course I do.” He pushed off the pole. “That’s the whole point. He deserves time. Quality time from parents who won’t disappoint him. Swooping in to play the fun uncle card for a while isn’t the same as being a father, but that doesn’t mean I don’t wish I could be what Brayden needs.”
He pinched his forehead and blew out a breath. “You act like this is easy for me, Quinn, but it’s not. I don’t want to walk out of his life.”
“Then don’t.”
“What choice do I have?” Brayden’s best shot at the future Cooper wanted for him would require them to cut all ties.
She lowered his hand from his head and took it in hers. “You can choose love over fear.”
He held her tender gaze, breathed. As misguided as her belief in him was, he couldn’t help wanting it to be real, valid. “Quinn—”
Someone behind them cleared his throat.
They both turned toward Brian, of all people, standing at the top of the pier.
He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “I saw your car parked out front. When you didn’t return my call, I thought . . .”
That he’d come trespassing on Cooper’s property? And what was he doing calling her when he was married to someone else? “You might try taking an unreturned call as a hint, hoss.”
Quinn set a hand to his broad shoulders that had moved into a protective stance in front of her. “It’s okay.” She eased around his arm and faced Brian. “I’m actually glad you came. We should talk.”
She had to be kidding.
She motioned that she was good, evidently reading his thoughts.
Jaw tighter than it had any reason to be, Cooper nodded at Brian and picked up his tool belt from the dock. “I’ll just be in the house.” He brushed past her ex, making sure he knew “in the house” meant close enough to haul him back to his car if he tried anything.
Not that Quinn couldn’t hold her own. Tall and confident, she stood at the edge of the pier like she was ready to withstand any storm that came her way. He didn’t doubt she’d be the last one standing.
In the house, he rinsed off in the bathroom and then eased in to check on Brayden. Moonlight cast a small glow throughout the room and onto his son’s peaceful silhouette in the crib. His son. The attribution caught him low and deep, followed by an even worse realization. Brayden wasn’t the only one he was getting attached to.
The view out back showed Brian hang his head at something Quinn had told him. He pulled her into his arms, and the nail in Cooper’s pocket might as well have twisted in his gut. After a moment lasting too long, Brian pressed a kiss to Quinn’s cheek and turned to leave.
She crossed her arms as though holding herself together, and the urge to go out to comfort her almost drove him past the one barrier keeping him in place. She didn’t need another guy in her life who’d end up hurting her.
She’d said it herself—the more someone loves you, the more you can let them down. Getting attached only bred heartache. He’d walked through it before. Had seen it so many times, even in Drew’s life. Quinn deserved more. He redirected his focus from the window to the crib, heart heavy. “So do you, buddy,” he whispered. “One day, you’ll understand.”
Cooper had made enough mistakes in his life. He wasn’t about to add these next two weeks to the list. He’d do what was best for them both. Starting with figuring out how to convince his brother not to come and make things worse.