“The old man wasn’t so bad, Rachel. He’d never have made father of the year, but—hell.” He let out a breath in disgust. “He was a hard-nosed, hard-drinking Irish son of a bitch who should never have given up the sea. He ran our lives like we were green crewmen on a sinking ship. All shouts and bluster and the back of his hand. We never agreed on a damn thing.”

“Families often don’t.”

“He never got over my mother. He was in the South Pacific when she died.”

Which meant Zack would have been alone. A child, alone. Her fingers tightened on his.

“He came back, mad as hell. He was going to make a man out of me. Then Nadine and Nick came along, and I was old enough to go my own way. You could say I abandoned ship. So he tried to make a man—his kind of man—out of Nick.”

“You’re beating yourself up again over something you can’t change. And couldn’t have changed.”

“I guess I keep remembering how it was that first year I came back. The old man was so fragile. He couldn’t remember things, kept wandering out and getting lost. Damn it, I knew Nick was running wild, but I didn’t have my legs under me. Having to put the old man in a home, watching him die there, trying to keep the bar going. Nick got lost in the shuffle.”

“You found him again.”

He started to speak again, then sat back with a sigh. “Hell of a time to be dumping this on you.”

“It’s all right. I want to help.”

“You’ve already helped. Do you want more soup?”

Subject closed, Rachel realized. She could press, or she could give him room. One favor deserved another, she decided, and smiled. “No, thanks. It really did the job.”

He wanted to say more, a whole lot more. He wanted to hold her again, and feel her head resting on his shoulder. He wanted to sit and watch her sleep on the couch again. And if he did any one of those things, he wouldn’t make it to the door.

“I’ll clear it up and get out of your hair. I imagine you’d like some time alone.”

She frowned after him as he walked into the kitchen. She had wanted time alone, hadn’t she? So why was she trying to think of ways to stall him, keep him from walking out the door.

“Hey, look.” She pushed away from the table to wander in after him. He was already pouring the remaining soup in a container. “It’s still early. We might be able to salvage some of the day.”

“You need rest.”