Jack held the phone toward the ocean. “Hear the waves? Can’t beat working in Summer Beach.”
Hank laughed. “Figured you’d be getting bored. Can’t imagine you’d find many stories there. Don’t you miss ducking whizzing bullets?”
“Only sometimes. What’s up?”
“I got a new assignment approved. Sure could use you on the team.”
“Yeah?” The hair on the back of Jack’s neck bristled. Hank sounded pumped up. A familiar frisson of excitement gathered in his chest. He should say no, but he was curious.
“Packing my bags for an overnight flight. You could board your dog and meet me tomorrow. This is big, Jack. Could be another Pulitzer for your mantle.”
“I don’t have a mantle.”
“This might help get that mantle then.”
Jack chewed his lip and thought about that. “Where are you heading?”
Hank named a country that had been a hotbed of activity. Dangerous, too. Jack’s heart rate accelerated. “Got sources?”
“Enough to start. Jennifer can book your flight. This story is critical, Jack. We’ll have unprecedented access, too.”
“Who else do you have on the team?”
“No one as good as you. See you tomorrow?”
“I need to think about it.” Jack flexed his fingers. “Have to check on something first.”
“You got an hour. I’ll need to call someone else if you can’t do it.” Hank paused. “What’s going on there? You usually beat me to the front lines. Don’t tell me you’re going soft, dropping out.”
Jack wasn’t ready to confide in Hank. “It’s complicated. I’ll call you back.”
He hung up and pressed his hand to his chest, which was pounding in anticipation. He glanced around the terrace. Behind him, he saw Vanessa’s friends, Denise and John, with Leo and Samantha. They were talking to Ivy Bay, the proprietor of the inn.
Jack didn’t have much time.
How Ginger had shifted his idea of writing a book about her to collaborating on children’s stories was beyond him. Not that he wasn’t enjoying the new project, but he wondered if Hank was right. Was Jack squandering the professional reputation he’d worked so hard to achieve?
This was his livelihood, after all.
Leo caught his gaze and waved at him. At ten years old, the boy was a near replica of Jack at his age. There was no denying that Leo was his son. Jack should count himself lucky the boy didn’t hate him for not being in his life until now. That had been Vanessa’s choice, and in her condition, he couldn’t blame her for anything.
“Hey, Dad,” Leo called out. “Brought my stuff.” Leo was carrying a snorkel, mask, fins, and a float vest.
“You’ve got the right gear.” Jack ran a hand through his hair. He’d promised his son they’d go snorkeling this afternoon after he finished writing.
His son. Jack wondered if the word Dad came easily to Leo or if it still seemed as foreign to him as it did to Jack.
An hour to decide.
Would he break his promise to Leo or break his commitment to his profession?
Jack closed his laptop and shoved it into his backpack. Charging out is what Jack did—what he’d always done. Pack on a moment’s notice and head wherever he needed to be. That’s how he and Vanessa had met. Comrades with pens—shining a light on truth and strife in the world.
Someone had to do it.
Jack slung his backpack over his shoulder and rose. There would be other days to snorkel. He’d have to catch Denise and John before they left. They’d understand. He was sure Ginger would, too.
Scout was jumping around Leo as he came up the walkway. The boy broke into a run and collided with Jack, throwing his arms around him and letting his equipment clatter to the ground.
“Hey, hey,” Jack said, feeling a lump rise in his throat.
“Can Samantha come snorkeling, too? Her parents have to go to Los Angeles.”
“About that,” Jack began, as a wave of guilt overtook him.
Denise and her husband hurried toward them. After greeting Jack, John pulled him to one side and lowered his voice. “Vanessa hasn’t been feeling well. We’re taking her to Los Angeles to see her doctor. Would you mind if we left Samantha here with Leo?”
Jack’s heart sank. “I just got a call, too. Actually, I was hoping that…” He cast a glance in Leo’s direction. Jack had told himself that Leo would understand, that there would be other days. That wasn’t always true, though. And he’d already missed a lot of those days.
“We wouldn’t ask, except—”
“That’s fine,” Jack said, perhaps a little too abruptly. He swallowed his disappointment.
John frowned. “You were saying that you got a call. From Vanessa, too?”
“From an old colleague. It’s nothing.” Jack shrugged. “Really. Go on. The kids will be fine with me.”
“It might be a few hours.” John nodded toward his wife. “Denise brought extra clothes and snacks for them for after snorkeling.”
“I’ll take care of the kids.” What had Jack been thinking? Being a father had real responsibilities. It wasn’t only about buying Leo a new bike or talking about sports. He’d committed to being there for Leo, and this is what that promise meant.
Maybe Hank shouldn’t have called because Jack had corralled his time off, but Jack knew he would have done the same thing. That was the nature of media work.
John and Denise hugged the kids and hurried away, leaving Jack with a canvas bag of clothes and supplies for the children.
“Wait here with Scout,” Jack said to Leo and Samantha. “I’ll change, and then we’ll go to a rental place for my equipment. I’m counting on you two to tell me what I need for snorkeling.”
Jack walked back to his room, dropped off the bag and his laptop, and made the call. He could tell Hank was disappointed, too.
“This isn’t like you,” Hank said. “You haven’t fallen in love or anything, have you?”
“It’s not that, but it’s important,” Jack replied. With a jolt, he realized what he’d just said was wrong. He had fallen in love. With Leo, with Summer Beach…maybe even with a woman. “I’ll tell you later, Hank. Good luck out there, and keep your head down.”
He’d have to talk to his boss first. The reality of being a parent finally dawned on him. He might not be able to return to his old job when his sabbatical was over. Sure, he could take Leo back to New York with him, but Denise and John were like family to Leo. Now wasn’t the time to break those bonds.
Bennett Dylan, the Summer Beach mayor who also worked in real estate sales and rentals, had offered to help him find another seasonal rental that would give him more room with Scout. And Ginger was urging him to take a position as editor of the town’s small, struggling newspaper.
Jack considered his options. Whether he was ready to step out of the big city excitement or not, he realized Leo needed him.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had that feeling. If he could continue writing freelance stories along with Ginger’s book series, maybe he could manage to stay in Summer Beach.
While Leo might be the impetus behind this decision, Jack couldn’t deny another strong pull to Summer Beach. From the first time he’d seen Marina, hobbling on a sprained ankle at the Seabreeze Inn, he’d felt an almost indescribable draw to her. He, a man of letters, was at a loss to describe this inexplicable feeling—save resorting to the language of romance, which he had a hard time believing after writing about tragedies between people who professed love.