Her hands began to tremble, and her chest felt cold and hollow. “I don’t know…”
He tipped his head back in frustration, and it felt like she was losing him. The angry, gray sky above them seemed to echo her feelings. She didn’t blame him. How would they ever move forward unless she told him? She had two choices: tell him and hopefully work through it or lose him. But was that being selfish? He was asking her, but did he really want to know?
“You aren’t who you think you are.” The words floated between them as if they weren’t hers.
Luke’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
“I know where you got your artistic talent from.” Her whole body froze, and she had to will herself to keep going. There was no going back now.
His face crumpled. “What do you mean?”
She took a steadying breath. “Remember Frederick McFarlin?”
“Yes?” A group of people who had just parked walked past him but his eyes never left hers.
“He’s Alice McFarlin’s brother. The woman who used to own our place.” Her stomach ached but she pressed on. She’d want someone to tell her if she were in his position. “I found a journal of Alice McFarlin’s; it had entries about a boy who didn’t know his father.”
Luke was still, his face neutral.
“That boy turned out to be someone I know. And Frederick McFarlin—the artist—is his father.”
Skepticism slid across Luke’s face. “What are you trying to say, Callie?”
Callie swallowed.
“You think that some artist guy who gave up his kid is my actual father and you know this because I have a talent for art?”
“That’s not exactly what I’m saying. But what if I told you that he drew a pencil sketch of a woman and her little boy on the beach in Corolla. A woman who liked to take her little boy there.”
“You’re crazy.”
“I’m not crazy, Luke. Frederick knows you’re his son. You said yourself that your mom took you to that beach. Do you remember a man talking to your mother on one of those visits? Or how about the day you dropped a baseball in the street and Alice McFarlin picked it up for you? She mentioned that your birthday was October twentieth… Why do you think you kept seeing her at all your events as a child? She was your aunt.”
His eyes had a slight panic in them. “Callie, I need you to stop and think about what you’re implying. You’re implying that my mother was unfaithful to my father and that I am not a blood relative of the man who raised me my entire life. Get a good handle on this before you go any further.”
The fear in his eyes rattled her—he’d always been so sure of himself. She wanted to put her arms around him and make everything okay but she knew she couldn’t do anything to fix this or to change it. All they could do was face it.
“I have a handle on it. I talked with Frederick. He cried like a baby over you. He has been without his son your whole life.”
Luke didn’t speak, and she tried to read his face but he wasn’t allowing his thoughts to show. He stared at her and she waited, her hands shaking terribly. His thumbs started to bounce against his legs in agitation and he went around and got back into the car, their lunch date evidently over before it had begun. Callie climbed in beside him and shut her door. The radio buzzed with a quiet hum just low enough that she couldn’t make out the words, the hurricane warnings still coming in. She ignored it and focused on Luke, waiting for his response. There was nothing more she could say.
He started the car and drove away in silence. After what seemed like an eternity, they arrived at The Beachcomber. She got out of the car when he did. He spun around and walked toward her but his face took her aback. “I can’t believe I let this happen,” he said.
“What?”
He brushed past her and headed for the beach. She clambered after him.
When they got to the back yard, he spun around. “This is all a way to get Aiden the company, isn’t it?” He shook his head, anger in his eyes. “If that got out, God knows what the papers would say. They’d have a field day. But that’s what you all planned, isn’t it? So that Aiden would get what he’s wanted all these years?” He stormed off again.
“Where are you going?” was all she could manage, the shock of his interpretation of her message causing her so much confusion that she was having trouble finding her words.
He continued walking and she couldn’t catch him, his angry stride so much longer and quicker than hers.
Callie jumped onto the new walkway, stopping only briefly to steady herself, her heart pounding like a snare drum. She got to the bottom and ran onto the sand. “Luke!” she called, but he didn’t turn around. “Luke!” she called again.
He was down by the surf and she ran after him, stumbling on the hot sand, her mind racing. Luke refused to turn around, his pace swift as he walked at a clip. She was nearly sprinting, the clouds overhead dark as if they’d explode with rain any minute. The wild wind tore through her hair.
“Olivia and Aiden don’t even know!” she yelled, stopping to catch her breath, feeling hopeless. She watched Luke slow down, her breathing heavy, and saw him stop, his back to her. Callie willed him to turn around. The very last thing she wanted was for him to think she’d betrayed him in some way, because she’d never do that.
Slowly, he turned to face her. They stood, a ways apart, as a couple crossed in between them, headed down the beach. Callie ignored their uncomfortable smiles. Luke didn’t move. She started to walk toward him carefully, trying to let him know with her stride that she didn’t mean any harm. She didn’t run to him, she just walked, and the closer she got the clearer his face became until she could see the tears in his eyes. And she knew that he believed her. The more he’d run, the more he’d processed it. When she reached him, she could feel the pain that he felt because she knew that kind of pain. She put her hands on his face for a moment, telling him with her silence that she’d be there for him. He pulled away from her and started toward the house.
“Luke,” she called.
“I can’t,” he said, shaking his head as if he were trying to shake out the information he’d just learned. “I want to shout at my mother for being unfaithful. And then I wonder, does my father—the one who raised me—know? Is that why he’s been so hard on me my whole life? Is that why he doesn’t want me running the business? But I’d never ask him that, so I’m left to wonder. I feel like an outsider in my own family.” He looked down at her.
“Luke,” she said gently.