way.
As soon as he ate, he planned to head over to Teressa’s to nail down a time that they could go to Lancaster together to buy some paint. His bank account already had a huge dent in it, because Cal had purchased a bunch of building and plumbing supplies. Good thing Dusty had a solid line of credit, and that it was one of the better fishing seasons. If he was careful, he might almost pull this off. Although Teressa had been pretty clear on not moving in with him, the fact was her place would be too small once the baby came, and he thought he should at least offer her the option of moving in with him. He gulped for air. It was the right thing to do. No matter how many times he repeated that thought to himself, it didn’t get any easier to swallow.
Dusty heard a knock on the door as he stepped out of the shower. He wrapped a towel around his waist and stuck his head out into the hallway that led to the kitchen. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
“No hurry, son. You’ve done a lot of work the past few days.”
His father, Pops. The man he most admired in the whole world. Cal had given Pops the lowdown, and Dusty had talked to him briefly on the phone, but he hadn’t heard from his father since. He grabbed a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt, pulled them on and ran a hand through his wet hair as he hurried down the hallway.
“There you are.” Pops eyed him. “Good day on the water?”
“Great. You should come out with me before the weather changes.” His father had fished for years before he sold Dusty the boat and his quota for lobster. More and more these days, quotas were going to outsiders and not always by choice. Dusty considered himself lucky to be able to buy his father’s business, when not so many years ago, it had been a given that a son, not a stranger, would take over the business.
Pops smiled. “Can’t say I haven’t thought of going.”
Pops took his time studying the carnage he and Adam and Cal had wrought the past two nights. The floors were stripped down to the subfloor and the icky wallpaper in the living room—did people really choose to have roses on their walls?—had been pulled off in strips. His house was an open-concept with the kitchen and dining room one big room and the living room opening off both. The three bedrooms and the bathroom were clustered at the other end of the house. They hadn’t touched those yet.
“You’ve got a lot of work in front of you.”
“Yeah.” He sank onto an arm of his black leather couch, the sum of what he hoped to accomplish weighing down on him.
Pops came over and put his hand on Dusty’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Dusty. I know neither you nor Teressa are ready to live together yet, but I think it was important to let her know she can move here if she wants to. It would be a big adjustment for you, and it couldn’t have been easy to offer her your home.”
They both knew that was the understatement of the year. “I can’t believe I’m going to be a dad.”
Pops’s face lit up. “Can’t say I’m disappointed. I’ve been waiting on a grandchild for a long time now. I never thought you’d be the first, though.”
Dusty laughed. “Me, neither.”
“Having a child, that’s nothing short of a miracle. You’ll see.”
“And having three kids?” Might as well get that elephant off his chest.
“I brought up three kids single-handedly, and even if I do say it myself, I think I did a damned fine job. You’ll do fine, too. The thing about having kids? You only get to live the experience a day at a time. When you’re feeling overwhelmed, remember that. All you have to do is get through the day.”
“And then you get to do it all over again the next day.” Pops’s advice wasn’t helping.
“See? There you go, getting ahead of yourself. Just concentrate on today.”
Pops wandered around the living room and looked out the window. “Cal says he’s busy with the Tolster job. He can only help you part-time.”
“I