Lydia's Pine Harbor Christmas, стр. 25
For a man in his midthirties at most, Jack’s sage—if not superior—attitude seemed undeserved, uncalled for, and not to mention irritating. It reminded Marco of when Theo had first become his guardian. It was hard to take orders from someone who, until recently, had been his equal, a brother who was only a few years older than he. But because Jack was Lydia’s father, Marco would listen politely to what he had to say.
Jack said, “I’ve made some mistakes, and it took me a while, but I’ve learned from them. One of the things I learned was to make amends with the people I’ve hurt. I should’ve done it with Eve, but at least this is a start. I intend to make up for lost time and look out for Lydia.”
Marco listened, hoping he looked like he understood. The truth was that Jack had lost him. It almost seemed as though he was implying that Lydia needed protection from Marco. That really grated on him, since he’d been the one who was there for Lydia before she ever knew she had a father, so Jack could sit on his sanctimonious attitude.
Jack went on, “It’s important to me to make up for the damage I’ve done by neglecting her all these years. She needed a father, and I failed her.”
No one’s arguing that point. For Lydia’s sake, Marco was civil. “I know it’s meant a lot to her to reconnect with you. For what it’s worth, she’s overcome any difficulties she might have had in the past. Your daughter is pretty amazing.”
“I’m glad to hear that you’ve noticed.”
That had a decidedly negative tone, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint Jack’s angle. “Of course I’ve noticed. We’re friends—more than friends. I care a lot about Lydia.”
In the silence that followed, which drew out until it became awkward, Marco could almost hear him thinking.
No longer able to endure the tension, Marco asked, “Is something the matter? What are you trying to tell me? Is Lydia sick? Is there something that she hasn’t told me?” The more he tried to guess what it might be, the more worried he got. People sometimes withheld vital information, often about health, in the false hope of sparing others. Lydia might have forbidden Jack from telling Marco, and Jack was trying to tell him without betraying his daughter’s trust. “Look, if Lydia’s sick, you have to tell me! I don’t care if she told you not to say anything! I need to know!” He started untying his apron as he called Mel over. “Something’s happened to Lydia. I need you to cover the bar.”
Puzzled, Mel said, “Okay.”
Marco turned back to Jack. “Tell me everything. Where is she? What can I do?”
Jack’s eyes shone with pleasure. “Lydia isn’t sick.”
“Thank god!”
“Unless you count love. She’s in love, and the person she’s in love with is breaking her heart.”
“I’ll kill him.”
Apparently amused, Jack said, “Well, you could, but that would just make things worse.”
“I don’t care. Give me Bryce’s address, and I’ll take care of him.” Marco paused and took a breath. “I didn’t mean that I’ll literally kill him. It’s just an expression—not that the thought doesn’t have its appeal.” What Marco hadn’t ruled out was a punch in the face—maybe two. That was entirely doable.
“Bryce?” Jack laughed. “Bryce has nothing to do with this. You are so much like I was that it’s scary, because you’re a damn fool. No, genius, it’s not Bryce she’s in love with. It’s you.” Jack shook his head, threw a twenty on the bar, and walked out.
Snow flew at the windshield as Lydia drove to the train station. This is a huge turning point for me. By making the adult decision to build the life she wanted to lead, she was free of Marco and the baggage of the past. At the center of that life was Bryce. Of course, they hadn’t made any sort of long-term commitment, but meeting the family was a pretty big step. Who knows what the next year could bring?
She imagined what life with Bryce could be. His career path was set. He would go into the family business, and she would fall into step with the rest of the family. Lydia imagined that, like Bryce, they were pleasant, cultured, and well-dressed, if not well-read. Bryce wasn’t exactly a reader, but Lydia read enough for both of them. She envisioned their evenings together, Lydia in a comfy chair in the corner, reading a book while Bryce watched TV. He had his favorite sports teams and sitcoms, which he often spoke of. Though she thought they were funny, she found other things more entertaining.
Sitting at the bar, watching Marco at work was always entertaining. The way he juggled drink mixing and joking with customers up and down the full length of the bar was like a ballet. What none of them saw was the real Marco, which she was privileged to know. Yet she had accused him of being shallow—and a commitment-phobe. The thought made her wince. She’d only said it because it would hurt him, but pride kept her from retracting her words. Lydia had seen glimpses of depth in Marco that almost overwhelmed her. He felt things deeply, he was kind and dependable, and he’d always been there for her. Not having met the right woman didn’t make him a commitment-phobe any more than her not having found the right man did. Marco would meet the right woman just as she had found Bryce—not that Bryce was perfect, but he was a good man.
With all the confusion between Marco and her resolved, the pathway was clear for him. Then everyone would be happy.
But Lydia’s memory was a problem. She couldn’t seem to forget him, as hard as she