Page 97 of Island Girl

Heather was quiet for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was thick with emotion. “I've been waiting all my life for this. Years of wondering what I'd say, how I'd feel, whether he'd even want to see me.”

“What do you want?”

“I want my father back. Not the one I lost. I know he's gone. But maybe the person he's becoming, the one who's going to the VA and eating cheeseburgers and learning to live again. Maybe Icould know him.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Is that too much to ask?”

“No,” Merritt said. “That's not too much to ask at all.”

Paula stood up. “I'll make some coffee. You two keep talking.”

She disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Merritt and Heather alone. They talked for another hour. About Ray, about Julie, about the long years of separation and the small hopes that had kept them going. Heather showed Merritt pictures on her phone. Ray in his uniform, young and handsome and unbroken. Ray holding baby Heather, looking at her like she was the most precious thing in the world. Ray and Julie on their wedding day, both of them so young, so full of hope for a future that would never come.

By the time Merritt left, the sun was high in the sky and the morning had slipped into afternoon. She stood on Paula's porch, looking out at the quiet street, thinking about everything she'd learned.

“Thank you,” Heather said from the doorway. “For listening. For not judging.”

“There's nothing to judge. You're just a daughter who wants to know her father.”

“And you're just a woman who tried to help a broken man.” Heather smiled. “We're not so different, you and me.”

Merritt drove home with her mind full of songs and lullabies and a young woman who had carried her father's music in her heart for years without knowing why.

She thought about Tuesday night. About bringing Heather to the stage, introducing her as a friend, letting her sing the song she'd been holding on to her whole life.

She thought about Ray, sitting at the bar, hearing the first notes of a melody he'd written two decades ago for a daughter he'd left behind.

She didn't know what would happen. She couldn't predicthow he'd react, whether he'd run or stay, whether he'd recognize the song or his daughter or both.

But she knew she had to try. She knew she had to open the door one more time and hope that this time, someone would walk through it.

That was all any of them could do.

Open the door. And hope.

CHAPTER 31

Tuesday night came faster than Merritt expected.

She spent the afternoon at the bungalow, running through her setlist, trying to calm the nervous energy that had been building since Saturday. This wasn't her night. This was Heather's. But somehow, that made it feel even more important to get everything right.

Paula picked up Heather at five, and they arrived at Shorebirds just before six. Merritt met them at the door, hugging Heather like they'd known each other for years instead of days.

“You ready?” she asked.

“No.” Heather laughed, but it came out shaky. “Not even a little bit.”

“Good. That means you care.”

They found a table near the back, away from Ray's usual spot at the bar. Paula had thought it through carefully. If Ray saw Heather before the song, he might recognize something in her face, something that would send him running before they even had a chance.

“He's not here yet,” Paula said, scanning the room. “He usually comes in around seven.”

“What if he doesn't come?” Heather's voice was small.

“He'll come. He hasn't missed a night in weeks.”

Justin brought them menus and water, his eyes lingering on Heather with curiosity. Merritt gave him a small shake of her head. Not now. Later, she would explain. But not now.

The bar filled up slowly as the evening wore on. Ed and Margie at their usual table. The fishermen at the bar, already two beers in. A couple of tourists by the window, studying the menu like it held the secrets of the universe.