not used to being this emotional or out of control.”
“Under the circumstances, it seems pretty natural.”
She felt surprised when he turned on his signal to turn onto Rawlins Road. “So you know where you’re going?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ve been to your dad’s before.”
She studied his profile as he drove. Firm chin, fairly straight nose, except for a slight bump, almost like it had been broken before, high forehead. Garret Larsson was very handsome. She didn’t remember him being this good-looking back in high school. But to be fair, she barely remembered him at all. She knew about late bloomers. Those guys who slipped under the popularity radar in high school, but turned out to be pretty cool later on. She suspected that Garret was one of those.
“So you were obviously acquainted with my dad?” she said quietly.
“More than just acquainted. We were pretty good friends.”
“You were friends with my dad?” She peered curiously at him, trying to imagine that. “So how did this friendship come about exactly? I mean, considering the gap in your ages, I’m a little confused.”
“Rory kept his boat at my marina,” Garret told her.
“Oh, yeah. The marina your grandparents owned.”
“I started to manage it right after my grandpa died. It was too much for my grandma by then. She needed help.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Five or six years. The place was pretty run-down. Mostly because my grandpa got too old to keep it up. So I started doing some renovations. Then my grandma passed on, too. Anyway, I inherited the marina and cabins and everything.”
“And that’s how you met my dad.”
“Yeah. Sometimes we went out on the ocean together.”
“You fished with my dad?” This spoke well of Garret. Her dad wouldn’t fish with just anyone.
“Yeah. Sometimes. But your dad liked going out alone, too.”
“I know. I wish he hadn’t done that yesterday.”
Garret sighed. “Me, too. I never like seeing anyone going out on the ocean by himself. I prefer the buddy system.”
“I used to go fishing with him. After I left for college, I nagged him not to go alone, even if it was pointless. No one could tell Rory McCallister what to do.”
“Yeah, but whenever I saw him going out on his own, if I was free, I’d just invite myself along. He never seemed to mind.”
Megan studied Garret closely. “Dad must’ve really liked you.” And this was no exaggeration. Dad had been picky about fishing buddies. Stubborn and picky and opinionated. Still, how she would miss him!
Megan could feel herself slipping into an emotional tailspin again. She knew it was time to lighten the subject. If that was even possible. “So you and my dad were fishing friends... For some reason I can’t quite see it.” Just then she remembered something Dad had said about his “young fishing buddy.” “Hey, you’re not Tangler, are you?”
Garret chuckled. “That’d be me.”
“Tangler? How’d you get that name?”
“That’s what your dad called me when we first met. He saw me taking out a bunch of inexperienced fishermen—not my favorite thing to do, by the way, but these city boys booked a trip and I had to take them.”
“Naturally.”
“Well, these dudes didn’t know a rod from a reel or a salmon from a halibut. Your dad was working on his boat while I was trying to get them loaded into mine and we must’ve looked like a floating circus.” He laughed.
“But what does that have to do with your nickname?”
“Tangler is what a good fisherman calls an inexperienced angler. Because he’s always getting his line tangled up. Tangled plus angler equals Tangler. Get it? Anyway, it stuck.”
She almost smiled to remember how her dad could be such a tease at times. She would miss that, too. The lump in her throat was back, getting bigger as Garret turned down the unpaved road to her dad’s house—the same house she’d grown up in. It was like she expected to see Dad there, standing on the front porch, cheerfully waving them inside, telling them he had tuna on the grill and a pitcher of homemade lemonade in the fridge.
“I admired Rory a lot,” Garret said solemnly as they bumped along the rutted sandy road shared by a handful of neighbors. “I looked up to him like a father figure.”
“Your parents were divorced, weren’t they?” As soon as she said this, she regretted it. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “It’s none of my business. But you know how nosy reporters can be.”
“It’s okay. And it’s true, my parents did divorce. A messy divorce, too. Fortunately, I had my grandparents and the marina to fill the void after my parents went their separate ways.”
“It still must’ve been hard.” She sighed. “My mom and dad divorced, too.”
“According to Rory, they handled theirs in a fairly civilized way.”
“Right.” She wasn’t so sure about that.
“Anyway, your dad was a good friend to me.” Garret’s voice was laced in sadness.
Megan looked out the window, seeing the dark glistening strip of ocean out past the few houses that lined this portion of the bluff. “I wish I’d taken more time off work—to come down here to visit more. I’m afraid I’ve let my career take over my life.”
“Your dad was proud of you, Megan. He loved that you were working for a big Seattle paper. I know he missed you, but he did understand.”
“I know.” She sighed. “He always encouraged me to chase my dreams.”
“And did you find them?”
She shrugged. “I thought so at first. To be honest, I’m not so sure now. It gets to feeling like a rat race out there. Not like life here in Cape Perpetua.” Talk about an understatement.
Garret was turning into the sandy driveway now. It was hard to see the house in the darkness, but something about this scene didn’t feel quite right. Probably the fact that her dad was missing from the picture. It was strange to see the house so dark. No glowing windows, no porch light, nothing. The house looked sad and lonely, as if it knew its owner was not coming home.
“Thanks for the ride,” she told Garret as he stopped the SUV. She suddenly felt glum about parting ways with him. He’d been such a comfort tonight and it felt like they’d actually started to get acquainted. But now it was over.
“You’re welcome. But don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily.” He was already getting out of the SUV. He hurried around, removing her baggage from the back, then joining her as she got out. “Let’s make sure everything is okay here first.”
“It, uh, looks okay to me.” She tried to sound more confident than she felt. “No sign of any vehicles around.” As they walked up to the house, she could hear the comforting rumble of the ocean. Everything about this scene felt so familiar—and yet it wasn’t. Despite spending most of her childhood and adolescence here, she had been down only a few times over the past ten years. “I’m sure everything’s just fine here.” Why wouldn’t it be?
“Well, I want to be sure.” Still carrying her bags, he accompanied her up the path of old bricks. She’d helped Dad put these bricks into place when she was twelve. “I don’t really like the idea of leaving you out here by yourself without a car, Megan.”
“Dad has good neighbors.” She pointed north. “I can probably get Mrs. Martin to give me a ride into town in the morning.