Is It Any Wonder (Nantucket Love Story #2) - Courtney Walsh Page 0,121

thanked them through a stifled sob.

Cody ran to the car and grabbed the new remote-control truck he’d gotten for Christmas. It was the only thing he really cared about, and he hadn’t been a bit surprised to find it under the tree. He’d never doubted that he would.

He rushed back to the house and knocked on the door. The little boy, the one who was about his age, pulled it open, and Cody handed him the truck. “Merry Christmas.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “I get to keep it?”

Cody nodded. “It’s for you.”

His face lit up. “Cool! Thanks!”

Cody turned and saw his dad standing by the car, waiting for him. While he knew his dad was proud of him, it wasn’t his father’s approval that warmed him from the inside that day—it was the way the other boy’s happiness made him feel.

The memory had come, unwanted, on the flight, but it stuck with him. How long had it been since he’d shown anyone that same kind of love? How long had it been since he stopped wallowing in his own pain and started focusing on how he could make other people happy? Even Louisa—whom he loved more than anyone—hadn’t received that from him. He’d withdrawn his love from her the moment it got hard.

It shamed him to think of it now.

“Love without condition,” Cody said. “Dad taught me that. His sacrifice to save my life nearly killed me in a lot of ways, but I know he’d do it again if he had the choice. That was how he chose to live. We haven’t been living that way. We’ve been living angry.”

His mother stiffened again. “You know how hard this has been.”

“I do,” he said. “And I know that we made it. We’re still okay.”

She set the check on the counter. “This doesn’t change anything. Maggie’s generosity is appreciated, but it can’t bring him back.”

“I don’t think she was hoping to replace Dad.” Cody could feel his own frustration brewing. “She just wanted to help.”

“Why didn’t she help twelve years ago?” She was crying now, and he realized it was the first time he’d ever seen her cry over his father’s death. Her stone-faced exterior was one of anger and bitterness, but it only masked a deeper pain, one she didn’t allow herself to process.

Maybe he’d adopted some of her defense mechanisms. Maybe this was why he found it easier to push people away. Maybe the fear of feeling that pain was so overwhelming they’d both built walls around themselves to stay safe. Walls constructed out of bricks of anger.

His father wouldn’t want them to live there another day.

“Mom?”

She met his eyes.

“This terrible thing happened. Our family was torn apart, completely shredded. And you still kept us together.”

She scoffed. “I don’t feel put together at all.”

“But you are. You did it.”

“Do you think that makes everything okay? Do you think what Warren did was okay?”

“Of course not, Mom,” Cody said.

“I know you think you love Louisa, Cody.”

“This is not about Louisa.”

She held up a hand to silence him. “But you will never understand what I went through after your father died. He left us with almost nothing. And when I went to Warren—your father’s closest friend—to ask for help, he said no.”

“Dad had a plan—”

“Well, it didn’t work. Life doesn’t go the way we plan.”

“Mom, do you regret what Dad did that night?” Cody’s voice broke, but he quickly recovered. “Do you regret that he saved me?”

Her face went pale. “Of course not—I couldn’t have lived a single day if something happened to you.”

“Then maybe you should be grateful to him. Maybe we should be grateful instead of angry. Maybe we should be looking for ways to honor him with our lives, instead of letting the past hold us prisoner like it has.”

She crossed her arms over her chest.

“We’ve got to let it go,” he said. “We’ve got to move on.”

She brought her eyes to his. “Let’s talk about something else.”

Cody felt like he was a tire and someone had just slashed him. She wasn’t listening. He wasn’t getting through to her. Did she know what it was doing to him to be apart from Louisa? Did she know that this wasn’t the kind of sacrifice his father wanted them to make—at least not for these reasons?

He saw her body turn rigid as she returned to the pot on the stove. He saw her jaw tense as she reflected on their exchange. He saw what anger could do to a person once

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