Page 99 of Hottie on Her Shelf
Holy crapballs. That sounded, well, like it would’ve wiped out their savings. It sounded expensive.
Her mom’s arms spread wide. “A whole fleet of ’em.”
This story was only getting more dire.
Gene karate-chopped his hands down, parallel to each other. “Sharing the ownership allowed for us to make technological upgrades.” He made another double-chopping motion. “Then we’d share the wealth. It was a solid plan. Until the boats were lost in the hurricane last fall.”
“All of them?” Megan squeaked. Very high. Very loud.
“Enough.”
That in no way should’ve led to bankruptcy. Hallie was more confused than ever. “But didn’t the insurance safeguard against you losing your money?”
Gene scrubbed his palms over his eyes and then left them there, pressing against his browbone like he had the biggest headache in the world. Which he probably did. “We had to cut corners. Everyone who bought in was a lifelong fisherman or captain. We’d never had boats sink. Didn’t need the insurance.”
“Oh, Dad.” It didn’t lessen her sympathy. No, it increased it, because Hallie was certain her dad was beating himself up over the poor choice on top of being broke.
“It wasn’t just your father.” Pam patted his hand, stubbornly jutting her chin as she looked both women square in the face. “We agreed to take the risk. It was my decision, too. Don’t blame him.”
It’d been a brave move. Risky and ill-advised, yes, but thoroughly brave and strong, which was how Hallie had always thought of her father. “I don’t blame either of you, not for trying to get ahead a little.”
Megan nodded. “You regret one hundred percent of the chances you don’t take. Better to not live with regret.”
Pam’s eyes welled up. Gene rubbed the back of his hand across his lined forehead.
Hallie hated that they’d been so worried about talking to her. They were a family. All four of them. And they’d get through this together. “Can I help? Get you back on your feet?”
“No, thank you. We’ll manage. We got ourselves into this, and we’ll pull ourselves out. We’re just…” Pam’s voice drifted off. And then, to Hallie’s horror, her mom started full-out crying. She alternated words and hitched-in breaths. “We’re so sorry, sweetheart. We must be such a disappointment to you.”
Never. Never ever. Hallie rushed over to hug her mom. It was from behind, and awkward, but still felt necessary. Once she sat back down, she laid it out. “Don’t let me catch you thinking that, let alone saying it. My love and respect for you hasn’t diminished one bit. It was a mistake. A very well-intentioned one, however.”
“But we feel so awful—this could reflect badly on you.”
Well, yes. Hallie refused to add to their guilt, however. Breezily, she waved it off. “That’s highly doubtful.”
Gene hooked his thumb at the window in the general direction of their downtown. “Greg over at the diner told us a man was nosing around, asking questions about us.”
“Maybe he’s heard about the crazy fun time that is your monthly pinochle game.” Megan wriggled her eyebrows comically.
It didn’t work as a distraction. Gene doubled down on his frowning until his eyebrows practically touched. “I’m serious. For a stranger to come to Crow Harbor and know my name? There’s something hinky going on there. That jerk running against you is the only one who’d care to spread the news that your family can’t handle money.”
That…had not occurred to Hallie.
She was certain her dad was half wrong. Fitz would never, ever pull an underhanded scheme like that. No way would he have been on board with the plan of making her parents’ downfall public knowledge. Not because of their intimate relationship, but simply because he’d never run a dirty campaign.
His father, on the other hand? Preston would do it in a hot second. Had, in fact, all but promised as much over dinner. Her only hope had been that they’d gotten it wrong somehow. And it hadn’t been much of a hope.
“Well, if that’s the case, I should be apologizing to you for disrupting your life. For opening you up to public ridicule.”
“Bah. We brought this on ourselves, like your mother said.”
The more Hallie thought about it, the more she burned with righteous indignation. Megan kicking her under the table wasn’t helping—mostly because she had no clue how to interpret said kicks.
This was a private matter. Her parents were good, hard-working, salt-of-the-earth people who didn’t deserve to be dragged through the mud. This experiment of hers had gone too far.
“I should drop out of the race. That’s the most surefire way to spare you a public humiliation.”
“You’re not listening.” The chair squeaked badly as Gene rose to grab four beers from the fridge. He moved slowly, as if his entire body was sore from holding in his confession. “I know what I did was stupid. I’m man enough to take my licks.”
