Cody set the bottle on the coffee table and leaned toward Warren, elbows on his knees. “You put up the memorial on the beach, right?”
Warren paused the television, a surprised expression on his face. He pressed his lips into a tight line and nodded.
“And the letter on the back of it?”
“My sad attempt at alleviating my guilt.”
“Did it work?”
He sighed. “No. I knew telling the truth was the only way to do that.”
“So you feel better now that it’s out?” Cody kept his tone neutral, like a journalist looking for facts.
Warren shook his head. “I feel—” he searched for the word, eyes scanning the ceiling—“unburdened, I guess. But I know it’s only the beginning. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness or your mother’s, but I’ve got to learn to forgive myself and find some peace. I’m going to have a check sent to your mother—”
“She won’t cash it.”
“She has to.”
There was a pause then, and Cody willed himself to continue. “You and my dad were close.”
“The closest.”
“You meant a lot to him.”
Warren went still. “I know.”
“I understand why he gave you the money. I’d do the same for a friend, especially one I loved. But what I don’t understand is how you could keep it all a secret, even after my mom came to you.”
Warren let out a sad sigh. “It’s the single biggest regret of my life. I should’ve taken care of you all. I should’ve made sure your mom lived the way Daniel wanted her to. I was a coward. I was a fool. I see that now, and I understand if you hate me.” His plea seemed genuine.
“I don’t hate you,” Cody said after a moment of silence. “I don’t hate you, because my father loved you. And love means—” he shrugged—“second chances. In spite of our mistakes.”
Warren broke—a sob escaped seemingly against his will. It was uncomfortable, seeing this man break down in front of him.
Then, slowly, Cody found the words he’d been practicing all morning. “I forgive you. I’m still angry, and I’m going to work through that, but if I ever have it in my power to offer forgiveness, I’m going to. I want my dad’s sacrifice to mean something.”
Warren pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.
JoEllen reached across the sofa and put her hand over Cody’s. “Your father would be so, so proud of you.”
Cody wouldn’t go into details with them, but he was starting to learn that even though he might have a right to be angry, he had a choice not to give in to that feeling. He would offer forgiveness to someone who didn’t deserve it, the way his father had offered his life to save Cody’s. Though Cody’s sacrifice wasn’t nearly as great, it still meant laying down a piece of himself. It still meant setting aside his offenses in order to bring about peace.
He hoped JoEllen was right—he hoped his choice would’ve made his father proud.
“That’s all I came to say, sir.” Cody got to his feet.
Warren stood and faced him, extending a hand in Cody’s direction.
Cody looked at it, then clasped his hand around it. Louisa’s dad pulled him into a bear hug. “Thank you.”
Cody took a step back, but Warren still held on to his hand.
“I mean it, son,” he said, tears in his eyes. “Thank you.”
JoEllen was at his side. “I’ve got tuna salad in the fridge. You could stay for lunch?”
“Thanks, but I can’t.”
“Will you see Louisa tomorrow?” JoEllen asked as she walked him to the door. “It’s a big day.”
He looked away. He didn’t think Louisa would welcome him at Brant Point, pact or no pact.
“Oh,” JoEllen said sadly. “Well, we wish you a very happy birthday anyway.”
Louisa Elizabeth Chambers was born at 2:52 p.m. on July 30.
Cody Daniel Boggs was born at 5:27 p.m. on July 30.
And thirty years later, on July 30, from 2:52 p.m. until 5:27 p.m., the pact said they would find a way to reunite at Brant Point lighthouse for a picnic lunch and the exchanging of birthday wishes.
But as the clock neared 2:52 p.m., the beach around the lighthouse was horribly, eerily empty.
Hey Dad,
I did it. I forgave Warren. I didn’t want to, but I did it because I think it’s what you would’ve wanted me to do. It’s weird, but somehow I feel lighter now. Like I felt the day I decided to forgive myself.
It’s true that being forgiven changes a person. To know the depth of my own humanity, the ugly side of my sin—and to know that I’m still loved and forgiven. That’s powerful.
I think my words were powerful for Warren, too.
I’m on the ferry back to the island. I have business to take care of. I have a choice to make about the master chief position—they’ve officially offered it to me, even though I never told Duncan I’d consider it. It’s a good opportunity.
But it’s Nantucket.
Staying would be hard. How could I live on that island and not have Louisa in my life? But then how could I leave and know she won’t be in my future?
I wish you were here to tell me what to do. I wish you knew her—the person she became. I have a feeling you’d love her. She’s just so easy to love.
And she seems to be a lot like you—the way she loves people, the way she’d do anything for anyone. I didn’t realize how important that was until recently, but it’s like Louisa has always known it, from the beginning.
Thanks for living a life that taught me so much. Thanks for saving me, for giving me another chance.
I promise not to waste another day.
Cody
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
THE FERRY WOULD ARRIVE ON THE ISLAND AT 5:15. Cody had purposely taken this boat so he wouldn’t feel anxious about being on Brant Point. If he’d arrived any earlier, he would’ve been tempted to check and see if Louisa was there.
He leaned back in his seat and stared out the window. He watched the boat glide through the water, and he itched to get back out there with his guys. He wondered if they’d had any rescues while he’d been away. He wondered if they’d been keeping up maintenance on the cutter. He wondered when he started thinking of Nantucket as home.
He shook the thought aside as his phone buzzed in his hand. He turned it over and saw a text from McKenzie Palmer:
My new blog post. Thought you might be interested.
He clicked on the link and read the headline: Local Business Owner Starts Nonprofit.
Louisa Chambers is in the business of making magic . . . and if she has her way, that magic will be sprinkled on some very worthy recipients—at no cost to them.
He read the article and learned about Louisa’s plans to develop a nonprofit arm of The Good Life—free vacations fully funded and planned by her and her team.
He stopped scrolling as the image of Louisa’s beautiful face appeared on his phone. Her smile, her eyes, her pale skin and red hair—it all stared back at him, accompanied by the years-old memories that mingled with more recent ones. Memories he’d revisited more times than he cared to admit.