Chapter 3 - WHAT ANNA HAD WARNED HIM ABOUT
That night, the house became quiet in a way Daryl had never heard before.
Jenna left.
Her twins left.
Robert and Elaine stayed only because Daryl did not have the heart to force his aging parents onto Pacific Coast Highway after dark.
They slept downstairs.
Eli and Zoe slept upstairs in Daryl’s room.
Neither child wanted to be alone.
Daryl sat on the edge of the bed long after both had fallen asleep.
Eli had placed the broken sailboat pieces on the nightstand.
Every splinter.
Every scrap of white sail.
As if keeping all of it might make restoration possible.
Daryl picked up the snapped mast.
Anna had carved it from a wooden paint stirrer because Eli was five and impatient.
She had laughed when the sail leaned crooked.
“It has character.”
Daryl closed his eyes.
Three years.
Sometimes grief felt close enough to touch.
Other times, like tonight, it felt as if Anna had been gone for a lifetime.
She had seen the Mercer family more clearly than he had.
Jenna’s entitlement.
Elaine’s habit of smoothing over harm.
Robert’s belief that whoever paid less could still decide more if he spoke confidently enough.
Anna had once told Daryl:
“Your family doesn’t ask for things. They establish a version of reality where saying no looks rude.”
He had defended them.
“They love us.”
“I know.”
“That sounds harsh.”
“So is love without boundaries.”
Daryl had remembered the argument.
Not the warning.
Until now.
The next morning, Eli woke first.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Can we fix it?”
Daryl looked at the sailboat.
“I think so.”
“Will it be the same?”
Daryl swallowed.
“No.”
Eli’s face fell.
“But maybe it can still be yours.”
His son thought about that.
Then nodded.
Zoe stirred beside him.
“Are Aunt Jenna and the boys mad?”
“Yes.”
“Are Grandma and Grandpa mad?”
“Probably.”
“Are we in trouble?”
Daryl’s chest hurt.
“No.”
“You yelled.”
“I did.”
“Mom said yelling means something is wrong.”
Daryl smiled sadly.
“Mom was right.”
“What was wrong?”
Daryl looked at both children.
“I let people act like our place in this family depended on keeping them comfortable.”
Eli frowned.
“That’s weird.”
“Yes.”
That made Daryl laugh.
Children often reduce adult dysfunction to the correct level of absurdity.
Downstairs, Robert was waiting at the kitchen island.
Elaine sat near the windows.
No wine now.
Just coffee.
Robert said:
“We need to talk.”
Daryl poured himself water.
“Go ahead.”
“You embarrassed your sister.”
Daryl stared.
“That’s your first concern?”
“She’s devastated.”
“My son was on the floor crying.”
“She didn’t break the boat.”
“She laughed.”
Robert sighed.
“Daryl, not every family conflict needs a moral trial.”
Daryl set down the glass.
“Good. Then explain why you told Jenna this house was yours.”
Robert’s face tightened.
“I never said that.”
Elaine looked at him.
That told Daryl enough.
“What did you say?”
Robert leaned back.
“I said the house would stay in the family.”
Daryl went cold.
“That is not the same thing.”
“Someday it will.”
“Someday?”
Elaine whispered:
“Robert.”
Too late.
May you like
Daryl stared at his father.
“What have you promised Jenna?”
