Let It Be (Butler, Vermont #6) - Marie Force Page 0,50
loved them, I know there’s more to them than what I saw that day.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I’m glad to know that’s not the only point of reference you have. Can I make a confession that might sound so silly?”
“Of course.”
“When I talked to Charlotte today, she said something that keeps running around in my mind.”
“What’s that?”
“She said that even if I don’t go there to see my father, she hoped we can stay in touch going forward.”
Molly’s brows furrowed as she considered that. “Do you think that’s the best idea? I mean, where’s she been all this time?”
“I’ve decided I don’t care where she’s been or what he said to make her and my brothers afraid to find me or keep in touch with me. I just don’t care. I want her back. I want my brothers back. I want them to know you and the kids, and I want to know their families. I don’t care why they stayed away. I know in my heart it wasn’t their choice, so what does it matter?”
“I hear what you’re saying, and I understand why you feel the way you do. It’s just that, well…”
“What, honey? You know I want your opinion.”
“They knew where you were, Linc. Charlotte knew exactly where to find you when she needed to reach you today. Surely they weren’t so under your father’s thumb as fully grown adults that they couldn’t have reached out before now.”
“You’re right,” he said with a sigh, “and I’m sure they had their reasons for not getting in touch. All I’m saying is I don’t care anymore why they didn’t.”
“Will you understand if I’m not so quick to forgive and forget?”
“Of course.”
“I want to hear why they stayed away before I decide anything.”
“Fair enough.”
“You ought to get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day, and the day after will be, too.”
The day after tomorrow, he would see his family again for the first time in forty years. His emotions were a mixed-up kettle of highs and lows, of memories, despair and hope. Among the many emotions, it was the hope that burned the brightest. More than anything, he hoped his father’s dying request might reunite him with the siblings he’d loved and missed for such a long time.
Chapter Fourteen
“I love the past. There are parts of the
past I hate, of course.”
—Paul McCartney
Linc slept fitfully, dreaming of people he’d known as a boy, like his grandparents, his late brother Hunter, his other brothers and sister, his mother, aunts, uncles and cousins, all of whom had been lost to him in the family meltdown. He dreamed of Molly and their children, not as they were now, but as they’d been as little ones, running around and raising hell inside the barn they’d called home.
And then he was alone, walking on a mountain trail, looking for the others but not able to find them. He, who was always surrounded by a gaggle of people, wasn’t sure how to be alone and didn’t like the feeling.
He called out for Molly, for the kids…
Molly’s voice cut through the roar of the wind, calling his name.
He opened his eyes to murky predawn darkness.
“You were dreaming,” she said.
“Couldn’t find you.”
She snuggled up to him. “I’m right here, and it’s still early. Try to go back to sleep.”
Linc stared up at the ceiling, thinking about the journey into the past he would undertake later that day, and knew he’d never go back to sleep. He left Molly to rest for a while longer and got up to shower, shave, get dressed and pack an overnight bag for the trip. He was the first one to arrive at the office and was enjoying a cup of coffee and perusing the most outstanding sales reports he’d ever seen when the clock in the reception area chimed six o’clock.
Determined not to lose this entire day to the drama circulating around him, he dove into the monthly profit and loss statement that Hunter meticulously prepared and had started a list of questions for his CFO son by the time daylight began to creep through the blinds.
His stomach growled, and he decided to run across the street to get breakfast at the diner before it got busy. When he crossed Elm Street and entered the diner, he wasn’t surprised to find his daughter-in-law Megan already there. Even eight months pregnant, she was never late for her morning shift, even when she’d suffered from morning sickness earlier in her pregnancy.
“Morning,”