My mother had already paid for the wedding, which meant, he’d paid for it. Because of this, I couldn’t help but giggle. “Fuck off, he did not!”

Instead of answering, he just gave me his serious face.

“Wow. I can’t believe that.”

“There’s more.”

He stood up and cupped my jaw in his hand.

“Hit me, H.”

His anger began to fade as he said my name. “Katherine…”

I knew Holst. I knew this man would never do or say anything to hurt me. Our wedding was only a week away. I decided I couldn’t wait until Christmas to be his wife…a church wedding, a sit down dinner reception, all very traditional, and I hadn’t invited my dad. He kept trying to find ways to apologize, even asking to be partners in our business, buy us out, the amount of the offer increasing each and every time. But according to my mom, it was his way of trying to be part of my success. His last words to me were ugly. Max had gone ahead with his wedding, of course. Since her parents owned two independent hotels, it was more like a business merger.

But I still hadn’t allowed my father into my life.

“Just tell me.”

His thumb brushed my cheek. I held onto his wrists to prepare myself, because I knew, whatever he had to say, it wasn’t going to be good.

“Is he sick?” I guessed.

He exhaled and tilted his head. “Yeah, baby. But he could sell venom to a snake and I couldn’t tell the difference.”

I grinned at his perfect analogy of my dad. “Is it his dying wish to walk me down the aisle?”

“He wants a chance to say he’s sorry in person…before it’s too late. Those were his exact words. Part of me thinks a dying man would’ve been more emotional though.”

I closed my eyes tight and listened: the ocean, the cars, voices of people and music from Coastal Ink…

“I’ll call him. I don’t need to see him, but if he is sick, I need say goodbye, or I’ll regret it. Not for him, for me.”

“Whatever you want, Katherine.”

“Love you, H.”

“And I love you, Katherine.”

Holst kissed my cheek as I took his cell from him. He left me alone in the privacy of the garden as I sat on top of the picnic table and dialed the last incoming number.

“Holst, I’m glad you called back. Please listen to me—”

“Dad.”

He said nothing. Dead air for well over a minute. I wasn’t going to go first. He could suck it up and say what he wanted to say. “Katherine…I’m sorry. I’m…I can’t change anything, but I’m sorry.”

“Are you still in business with Max?”

He again was silent.

“If you’re still in business with Max, Dad, there really isn’t anything to say.”

“You and Mom get everything.”

“Leave it all to Mom.”

It was a simple request and a final request. I wanted nothing from him but an apology. I got it. It seemed heartfelt, so I needed that to be it. Except, as the wheels turned in his silence, something occurred to me.

“Are you actually dying? Or was that a ploy to get Holst to give me this message.”

“Katherine…”

I should’ve known.

“Dad, I’m in a good place. I’m happy. I was happy when you tried to come in and shit all over my life. And I should’ve known you weren’t really sick when you upped your offer on the business. ‘Long term investments are the payment for short term risks.’ Those are your words, Dad. I’m not an idiot. I know how much the apartment building is worth, and I know how much the business is worth. I also know it killed you to let that place go, and I know why you did. You knew, Dad. You turned the blame on Mom, and then you turned it on me, but you knew, or at least suspected…and you didn’t care. The Florida deal was worth more than your daughter, and you needed Max as your lackey to do all the schmoozing and heavy lifting. So do me a favor—”

“Katherine, if you’d let me—” he interrupted, his patience and sweet overture waning.

“Dad, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart…do me a favor and go fuck yourself.”

I hung up and had the sudden urge to rip every plant from every pot of the lovely little garden. Then I wanted to smash Holst’s phone into a thousand tiny pieces. But after all of those emotions, I closed my eyes and thought about the fact, in just a week, I’d be getting married.

“Hey,” Tori called from behind me. I wiped my eyes of the few tears that seemed to ignore the directive I gave my brain of, “Do not cry,” and watched her approach.

“Where’s my favorite girl?” I asked. “I mean, my other favorite girl?”

She sat on the table next to me, took the phone from my hand, laced her fingers through mine, and squeezed. It was then I turned into her and let every single feeling and fear that confirmed my dad had no redeeming qualities come to the surface through my eyes.

Tori spoke softly against my hair, her words expressions of comfort given to someone in pain, because Tori knew. She knew it wasn’t me to let loose with the waterworks, and the few times in our relationship, all recent, that I had, those were huge, they were momentous, and that’s exactly what this was—the death of hope. It was just lucky I found a way to come to terms with my mother’s lack of mothering. Her fervent apologies, her details of our finances when I was growing up, how Dad needed Max for the business…more than he needed his daughter, and that right there, that was unforgiveable.

Tori brushed my hair to the side. I’d let it grow as long as it ever had for the wedding. I’d always kept it long, but now, with regular cuts and far less abuse on my body, it was at the middle of my back.

“Hey,” she said.

“Bet you never thought you’d see the day when I opened a business, cried…often…stood up to my dad, fell in love, and bought a wedding dress.”

She closed her eyes slowly and smiled back up at me. “No, honey, I always knew. I’m a happily-ever-after kinda girl.”

I smiled back at my bestie and decided, right then and there, plans needed to be made. “Can we die here?”

“Like…right here?” She laughed.

“I mean…I want us to be here when we’re old ladies. I don’t care if we have to get an escalator installed up to your house.” I could look from Bear Claw’s rooftop and see the porch and yellow eaves of her home. And Cam took my advice from months ago and finally installed a porch swing.

“Cam said this was our forever house. So, yeah. We can die here,” she agreed. “He's making me go to a specialist before I get knocked up again.

I raised my eyebrows at her. “Can you blame him, babe?”

“Shut up.” She smiled. “I better go. Love you, Kath.”

“You, too, honey.”

As she left, I looked at the surroundings from my rooftop perch and spied something I probably shouldn’t have seen.

Frodo.

He was at Dee’s front door. Beachy Bride was already closed for the day, and there was Dee, her arms around him, and it was beautiful. Beautiful because I had the same hope that Tori had, and maybe not now, but eventually, I hoped they’d get their happily ever after.

Katherine

My last night as a Miss. Tomorrow, I would be a Missus. I’d spent the afternoon alone on the beach with my thoughts, waiting for my appointment with Frodo. Leo and Gloria were closing early, and our friends would be coming up to our apartment for a little party. It was informal, casual, just a barbeque on the deck. I’d told Holst we should just have it at the shop, but he protested. Really, I think this was because he wanted to show off his hard work on our deck garden. He spent a little time out there every day, preparing the soil to plant herbs, then covering them with netting to keep away the little animals that would happily dine on the hillside buffet.

I entered Coastal Ink to see Frodo reading a paperback. Zack was talking the ear off a client, but it was all about his little Zola, which was adorable.