Page 65 of Hope and Hot Chocolate on Mistletoe Lane

I glanced back at Georgia once for reassurance then I walked inside, wondering what I was going to find.

42

HOLLY

I looked around as my dad closed the front door behind us. The house was equally modern inside with shiny wooden floors and bright-white walls, plus I could see the back had glass all across it too. Behind, the beach was only a few metres away.

‘Come through into the kitchen and we can have tea or coffee? It’s just me here, by the way…’ Dad trailed off again and cleared his throat then nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets and walking off through the open-plan living area into a kitchen that had a big marbled-topped island. He gestured for me to sit on one of the stools and asked if I wanted tea or coffee. I asked for coffee and he went over to a fancy machine to make us both one. I looked out at the seaside landscape in front of me. It felt like a Wizard of Oz moment – I wasn’t in Kansas any more.

‘What a view,’ I said, breaking the silence.

‘Yes, in summer, I always keep those doors open; it’s incredible. A bit chilly now but I still try to go for a walk most days if I can,’ he replied.

Glancing around, I looked for any signs of his family life but there were no photos, only a couple of pictures of boats on the water. ‘Is it okay that I’m here? I know I should have probably called to let you know but honestly, I thought if I did, I might chicken out and the phone seemed so impersonal,’ I said, trying not to babble like he had but not sure if I’d managed it.

‘It’s fine,’ he replied, coming to join me, sitting on a stool and sliding my drink over to me. He’d made us lattes that were almost barista standard. ‘You look… all grown-up,’ he said, eyeing me over his coffee cup as he took a gulp, wincing a bit at how hot it was. ‘Apart from your height and your eyes, you look just like your mother. Is that okay to say?’

I shrugged, unsure what was or wasn’t okay right now. ‘You look the same.’

‘A lot older, though; the last ten years were pretty ageing, I think.’ He tried to smile but it didn’t quite take hold. ‘Are you okay, though? Is your mother okay? There isn’t an emergency or something, is there?’

‘No, we’re okay. I guess I thought it was time.’

‘After ten years?’ he asked, not harshly but curiously.

‘I’ve been back in Birchbrook and it got me thinking about the past. There were things I didn’t tell Mum, things that I have been avoiding dealing with, I guess. I feel like I ran away when I was eighteen and maybe I’m still running. And I want to stop. It’s time to stop,’ I explained as best as I could.

Dad raised an eyebrow. ‘You went back to Birchbrook after ten years? I wonder if I’m still running from that place.’

‘Why?’ I asked, taking a sip of coffee. It was pretty good but not quite up to Birchbrook Café’s standards.

He shifted uncomfortably on his stool. ‘Maybe we shouldn’t dredge up the past. I want to hear about your life now. Your mum used to email me when you were younger but she hasn’t for years.’

‘She did?’ I hadn’t known that but I wasn’t surprised; she had never wanted me to cut my father out of my life like I had done. ‘The thing is, we need to talk about the past. I feel stuck, like I can’t move forward without talking about it. Without asking you questions that I’ve had for years.’ I looked at him. ‘Please, Dad.’

He exhaled loudly and nodded. ‘Sure. I know you must have things you want to ask or say. I just have had a lot of the same questions from my other kids and my second wife.’ He looked away then. I wasn’t sure if that was shame in his eyes or just weariness. ‘My second ex-wife, I should say.’

‘Ex-wife?’ I repeated. That explained the lack of family photos, why he was here in this big house alone. ‘Kids?’ That meant they’d had more than the baby we’d known about. Maybe my mum knew but she hadn’t told me anything about my dad’s new life back when she had still been in contact with him. I hadn’t wanted to know.

‘Yeah – we have two. Alice is almost ten and Rory is seven. We got divorced two years ago now. The kids live with my ex-wife up north. I see them in the holidays. They’ll come by for Christmas. My wife hated it here and our age difference didn’t help. She didn’t want a quiet life by the sea; she likes to be with her big family and hated it when I went out on my boat all day. She said she felt like I always searching for something I didn’t have.’ He glanced out at the sea view. ‘Maybe she’s right.’

‘You left us and your new family left you,’ I said, my voice quiet. I thought he’d gone after his happy ever after. That he’d found everything he hadn’t had with us, but that clearly wasn’t the case. ‘Why did you do it all, Dad?’

He kept his eyes on the coastline ahead, not looking at me. ‘At first, things were great. I liked the idea of a small town. Thought I’d get to know all the neighbours, be part of the community, raise a family. And for a while, it was exactly like that. It felt perfect with you and your mum for a few years. But then I began to feel restless. Nothing ever changed in Birchbrook. Everything was the same, day after day. I wanted more, I guess. But your mother didn’t.’ He sighed. ‘She loved it there, was happy there, and with me and you. She said we had everything we had dreamed of.’ Finally, he looked at me. ‘And we did. I wanted us to move there. We got the dream. But it just wasn’t enough.’

‘So, you wanted more?’ I asked, wondering how getting everything you wanted was a bad thing. I could understand being scared to lose the dream but my dad had walked away from it instead.

‘Yes. I don’t know. Or something different. That’s when Nicola came along. She gave me things I didn’t have: excitement, the thrill of the chase, sneaking around, passion, fun…’ He shook his head. ‘I was flattered by her attention. I enjoyed the secret of it all. It was something different.’

‘Different?!’ I cried angrily. ‘You had a wife and a child who both loved and depended on you!’

‘I know. I didn’t want to leave you both. But then Nicola told me she was pregnant. And there was my escape clause.’

‘Escape clause?’ I repeated, the words cutting me like a knife.

‘It was a reason for me to leave. And I didn’t want to be on my own. Nicola was good company. I could start somewhere new. Have the adventure I’d been restless for. I felt bad for leaving you both, of course I did. But you were practically grown-up, Holly. You didn’t need me any more. And your mum was happy in Birchbrook. I knew you’d both be okay.’

‘Did you?’ I snapped. ‘Did you have any idea that Mum was devastated when you left? Or how I was bullied at school for you running off with my teacher, who was so much younger? The whole town was talking about it! Or how about the fact that I blamed myself for you leaving?’