Malibu Rising: A Novel, Taylor Reid [best fantasy books to read TXT] 📗

there for you during things that no child should have to live through.” This was the first time Mick had acknowledged the loss of their mother, and both Hud and Kit found it hard to look him directly in the eye as he said it. The two of them still held pockets of grief in their bodies that bubbled up at inopportune moments. Kit, particularly, grieved the way some people drink, which is to say: rarely but always alone and to excess. So she could not keep Mick’s gaze at that very moment because she did not want to cry.

But Hud found the easiest way through pain is, in fact, through it. And he let the tears fall when they came. When he thought of his mother and the despair he’d felt in those months after she was gone, those months where they waited for their father to attempt any kind of rescue … Hud could do nothing but feel it. And so he turned away for the exact opposite reason his sister did. He turned away so no one would see him tear up. And then he wiped his eyes and turned back.

Jay wasn’t looking away at all. He was listening, intently, hoping his father had something to say that might make anything better. Anything at all.

“I’ve made mistakes,” Mick said. “And I can … I can try to explain them, and I can tell you my own problems, about the screwed-up way I was raised. But none of that matters. What matters is that I’m here now. I’d like to be a proper family. I want to make things right.”

Mick had envisioned the possibility that upon his saying this, one of them might run into his arms and hug him tight. He had an image in his head that this would be the beginning of Sunday dinners together when he was in town, or maybe celebrating Christmas at his place in Holmby Hills.

But none of his children appeared to have budged very much yet. And so he pushed forward. “I’d like us to start over. I want to try again.”

Hud was struck by Mick’s word choice. Try.

“Can I ask a serious question?” Kit asked. “I’m not trying to cause trouble. I just genuinely don’t understand something.”

“OK,” Mick said. He had stood up and was now resting against the rocks of the cliff.

“Are you in AA? Is this part of your twelve steps or something?” she asked. She could not quite imagine what had prompted all of this. But it might make sense to her if it was in service of something else. If he was here to make himself feel better, to tie up loose ends or something. That she could understand. “I mean, why now? You know? Why not yesterday or last year or six months ago or how about when our mother fucking died?”

“Kit,” Hud said. “Don’t talk like that.”

“But our mother did die,” Kit said. “And he left us to fend for ourselves.”

“Kit!” Jay said. “You asked him a question—let him answer it.”

Mick shook his head. “No,” he said. “I’m not in any kind of program that requires me to make amends.”

“Then what are you after?” Kit asked.

“I’m not after anything,” Mick said, defensively. “Why is that so hard to believe? Why don’t my own children understand that I just want us to be a part of each other’s lives?”

Jay spoke up. “That’s not what we’re saying, Da—”

Hud cut him off. “Kit’s just asking what’s changed. Actually I want to know, too. So I guess we’re asking,” he said, his voice becoming softer and yet more focused, “what’s changed?”

Before Mick could answer, Nina’s feet hit the sand.

She hadn’t heard Mick’s apology or his appeals. But she could guess what they entailed. She’d overheard the same things as a child. His talk of having lost his way and owning up to his mistakes and asking for another chance. She didn’t need to see the live show—she’d seen in it previews.

“I’ll tell you what’s changed for him. Nothing,” Nina said.

They all turned toward her. None of them were surprised to see her. They all had more or less hoped she’d find them here. But they were a little taken aback by her sweatpants and her general demeanor. What Nina was this?

“Nothing has changed, right, Dad?” Nina said, looking right at him.

“Hi, Nina-baby,” Mick said, walking to her.

This was his first time seeing her up close as an adult. And he was overcome by the affection he felt for her face.

He saw himself in it—in the lips and the cheekbones and the tanned skin. But he saw June in it, too. He could see her in Nina’s eyes and her brows and nose.

He missed June. He missed her so much. He missed her roast chicken and the way she had always smiled when he walked in the door. He missed the smell of her. The way she loved to love the people around her. Her death had shocked him. He’d always imagined that he could one day come home to her. If she was still alive, he’d be with her right now. He’d have come to her tonight, maybe even sooner.

To look at Nina, as Mick did now, was to have proof that June had lived.

He moved closer to Nina, ready to hug her. But she put her hands up, stopping him. “You’re fine where you are,” she said.

“Nina,” Mick said, aggrieved.

Nina ignored him. “Guys, if you want to know why he’s here, it’s really simple,” she said to her siblings. Then she redirected her attention to her father. “You’re here because you want to be, right?” she asked him. “Because you woke up this morning and you got a wild hair up your ass to try to be a decent guy.”

Mick flinched. “That is absolutely not—”

“Hold up,” she said. “I’m not done.” She continued, her voice strong and rising. “It’s awfully convenient that you’re suddenly interested in us once we’re all adults, once we no longer need