He hesitated. When they were living in the same house and before his fateful fortieth, it seemed as if the mom-versus-dad debate was perfectly acceptable. But when he and Tess were living in separate places, he figured they should show a united front in things like this. The dull ache in his belly sharpened as he thought about custody again.
It wouldn't surprise him if Tess asked to have the kids 24/7 - and he'd grant her wish, of course.
"Dad?"
He cleared his throat. "Mom wants you to maximize your chances and your choices. I can't argue with that."
Especially because he wondered whether Tess's insistence on it was a reflection of her dissatisfaction with what she herself had done post high school. Instead of college or career, she'd married David and devoted herself to him and their children. Was she regretting that now?
She'd left their home. Clearly she was regretting him.
The sound of shrieking kids drew his attention up the beach. High-stepping through the surf, all knobby knees and elbows, their skin a golden tan, his oldest sons were racing toward him. Their exuberant expressions were testament to the pleasure they were finding at Crescent Cove.
They probably didn't miss home - or him - at all.
"Dad!" Duncan skidded to a stop in front of him, while Oliver's momentum had him slamming into David. He scaled his father's body like a monkey.
David's arm automatically curved around his boy to steady him. "Hey, kids. What have you been doing?"
Duncan had a new sprinkle of freckles across his nose. "Dad, can I climb up that cliff?" He pointed to the high ragged bluff at the end of the cove. "I want to go up there and jump off like Uncle Griff."
Fear clutched at David's throat. "No!" Jesus. He couldn't bear the thought of something happening to one of his children. That's what had started all this. "It's too dangerous."
"Aah." His older son kicked at the sand. "That's what Mom says."
Relief loosened the stranglehold on his neck. "You listen to her."
"Jane says Uncle Griff's turning into a beach bum," Oliver announced, sliding free of his hold. "So I've decided that's what I'm going to be when I grow up."
"Jane?" David glanced at his daughter.
Rebecca tipped her head, her gaze shifting behind him. David turned to see a quietly pretty young woman walking their way, Russ on her hip, the little guy's head on her shoulder.
The dread he'd been carrying around since his wife and kids had left home redoubled. "Has Mom hired a nanny?" Was Tess already moving on with her life? He understood it was his own actions that had driven her to it, but the idea of actually losing her was still difficult to bear.
"She's not a nanny," Rebecca said. "She's working with Uncle Griff."
"Though childcare experience comes in handy in that capacity too," the woman said as she approached, giving him a wry smile. "I'm Jane Pearson."
He held out his hand. "David Quincy."
At the sound of his voice, baby Russ's head shot up and his body twisted in Jane's hold. "Dah!" he yelled, reaching toward David with chubby arms.
David moved back. "Where's Mom?" he asked Rebecca, ignoring another bellowing "Dah!"
His daughter took her smallest brother onto her own hip, distracting him by swinging side to side. "She's having lunch with some man."
"Oh?" He tried to wipe any expression from his face, though that dull knife was carving at his entrails again.
"It's a business thing, she said," Jane added quickly.
David figured that meant he looked more pained than he had the right to be. "I'm sure."
"Really." She pointed in the direction of the restaurant up the beach. "At Captain Crow's."
Duncan and Oliver were already starting some little-boy game involving sand being scooped into the back of each other's swim trunks. Rebecca was dangling Russ's toes in the wet sand, causing him to squeal.
Jane was the only one still paying David any attention.
"I guess I'll go see if I can have a word with her," he said, already moving away from his kids. Every step felt like a mile, but he didn't falter. The distance from them was what he'd been working on for months. It was also what had pissed off Tess, but he figured it was the only way he could survive.
Love hurt so damn much.
He approached the restaurant from the side entrance. For a moment he was startled by his reflection in the plate glass windows. Less soft now, he looked more like his own father, Lawrence Quincy, a