Lochan Uaine was picture perfect. The tree-dotted mountains swept dramatically down toward the water, and the loch itself was green, a stunning emerald green that turned jade as the sun moved across its tranquil waters. Arrochar told me it was that spectacular green most likely due to the reflected light of the surrounding trees. That was the logical answer.
Legend had it, however, that Lochan Uaine was that color because fairies washed their clothes in it.
As I balanced on my haunches capturing images of one of the most beautiful places I’d ever had the privilege of seeing, I decided I liked the legend best. Honestly, the glen had something about it, something magical and ancient.
Feeling brave, I’d driven around, stopping when I found a lot to park in so I could follow the hiking trails. Sometimes I came across hikers who would give me the heads-up for places in the park that were particularly beautiful. It was all stunning—a smorgasbord of natural beauty that seduced me for hours.
I took so many photos and couldn’t wait to upload them to my laptop. And I didn’t miss a thing behind my camera. I knew when to lower the piece of equipment and just experience where I was. I sat my ass down on the rocky shore of a loch, the spring breeze whispering over my skin, as I processed the surrounding majesty.
A sense of peace that was difficult to explain wrapped around me in those moments.
I had no idea a place could do that—bring such a sense of serenity that all my worries, no matter how big, were forgotten. Even Lachlan.
Though he eventually bulldozed his way into my thoughts on the almost three-hour drive back to Ardnoch. Despite my confusion over the man, by the time I’d returned to the trailer that evening, I was physically exhausted in the best way. My phone showed missed calls from my mom, Seth, and Mac. I texted Mac and promised I’d see him in the morning.
And that was the plan. After waking up refreshed post adventure, I showered and changed into workout gear to meet Eredine and Lucy at the studio. However, as I was leaving the trailer, my cell rang in my hand. It was Seth.
Frowning in concern because it was pretty early in the morning back home, I answered. “Is everything okay?”
Seth exhaled. “Thank God. We were worried when you didn’t answer your phone yesterday.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t have a great signal where I was, and by the time I got home, I was exhausted. Is everything okay?”
“Got home?”
“What?”
“You said ‘by the time I got home’?”
Did I? I shrugged it off. “It’s just a turn of phrase. Is everything okay?”
“Why aren’t you answering your mother’s calls or emails?”
My stomach lurched as I yanked open the door to my SUV and got in. As I switched on the engine, my phone connected to the vehicle. “I’ve been busy.”
“Too busy for your mom?” Seth’s admonition boomed out of the car speaker, and I quickly tapped down the volume.
“Seth, I will talk to Mom when I’m ready to talk to Mom.”
He sucked in a breath. “I knew it. Mac told you, didn’t he?”
“About the letters.”
“Yeah.”
“So you knew.” I shook my head in disgust and tried not to gun it backward out of my parking spot.
“Don’t let him skew the narrative. There’s more to it than just your mom returning some letters. He’s not blameless.”
“No, he’s not, and Mac has been very honest about that. He and I are working through our issues. But Mom lied. You lied. And I’m not okay with that because it wasn’t about me. It was about her. And you cannot possibly tell me any different.”
My stepfather sighed. “No, I can’t. It was selfish. She knows that. But you have to talk to her, Robbie. You can’t shut her out.”
“I’m not shutting her out. I’m just not having that conversation over the phone. We’ll talk when I get back.” I sought to change the subject. “Is Regan okay?”
“She needs you.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“It’s complicated. But she’s dating this shady character your mom and I don’t approve of, and she won’t listen to us.”
“Is she safe?”
“Yes. For now.”
“Is she happy?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is she doing drugs?”
“What? No, of course not.”
“Robbing a bank?”
“Robbie—”
“I’m not in Scotland just twiddling my thumbs, Seth. I’m here to reconnect with my father, and I’m sorry if that isn’t as important as Regan hanging around some guy you don’t approve of, but I’m not dropping my life to hurry back to Boston because you want me to parent your daughter.”
“Shit, Robyn, that’s not fair.”
The truth was my parents weren’t perfect. Whose parents were? Mine were good people who loved me and my sister. But Mom had always mothered and worried about Regan in a way she never had with me, and she’d shown favoritism over the years. She’d continually prioritized Regan’s problems over mine, and in doing so expected me to worry and mother over Regan, too, even if I had my own issues to deal with. When it became apparent I had a much higher success rate in talking my sister around or out of something (e.g., asking her to quit dating a twenty-year-old biker when she was sixteen, suggesting she give up slacker friends who got her into pot when she was seventeen, leaving high school to pursue acting in New York when she’d never shown an interest in the profession her entire life, or dropping out of college before graduation, etc.), my mom and stepdad leaned heavily on me. It was something I’d naturally do as a big sister, but it didn’t mean they were unburdened by the task of parenting her. And I was done.
After discovering those letters, I was so done doing what was best for everyone else but not for me. “I’m not coming home anytime soon. Unless Regan is in danger, abusing substances, or breaking the law, don’t ask again. And tell Mom to stop calling me. We’ll talk when I’m ready to talk.”
“You don’t sound like yourself, Robbie. I’m worried.”
“Why? Because I’m putting myself before everyone else for the first time in my life?”
Seth was silent so long, I thought he’d hung up. Then, “That’s fair. That’s absolutely fair. And I’m sorry. You do what you have to do with Mac. Even though it might not seem like it, I’m glad you’re getting the chance to connect with him. I just don’t want him turning you against us.”
“He’s not. That’s not who he is.”
“No, I guess it’s not.”
I turned left toward the gates of Ardnoch Estate, and the sadness in my stepfather’s voice chipped at my resolve. “Are you okay, Seth?”
“I’m good,” he promised. “Just worried about my girls.”
“Well, don’t worry about me. Trust me, I’m where I’m supposed to be right now.”
“Okay, Robbie. I’ll let you go.”
“Get some sleep. I love you.”
“Love you, too, darlin’.”
Despite my determination to let my parents deal with their own insecurities and worries, I couldn’t help the niggle of guilt in my gut for being so harsh as the security cameras tagged my license plate and the gates swung open a few seconds later.