The headstone is at least five feet tall, with a photo of Joey inlaid in it. His full name, birth date, and death date are engraved, and below that is a damn long epitaph.

“Why does it look like they worshiped him?” Heather asks.

“Because they did,” I confirm. “They hated me and blamed me for his death. He was an only child.”

“He told me that his parents were long dead,” Heather confides. “I asked him if Constance should meet his parents, and he said they died when he was a kid.”

“Ever the storyteller,” I say, shaking my head. “His parents are very much alive. Last I heard, they moved off the island, though. And if you want my advice—”

“I do.”

“I wouldn’t tell them about Constance. They’re controlling, and I think they would try to interfere in your life in ways that you wouldn’t welcome.”

“But she’s their granddaughter.” Heather scrunches up her nose. “It feels wrong to keep her from them.”

“Your call,” I reply, my hands up in surrender. “But they raised Joey, and I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not wrong. I’ll think about it, do some research. I don’t usually make rash decisions.”

Heather squats next to the stone, just inches from Joey’s picture.

“You were a son of a bitch, Joey Lemon. I’m not sorry you’re dead, and that makes me feel guilty because I was taught better than that. You didn’t deserve Constance. She’s so much better without you, and Rob is going to be an awesome father to her. The father you never could be.”

Heather stands and takes a couple of steps back.

“I don’t know if he can hear me, but it feels good to say the words.”

“I’ve told him off…I don’t know how many times since he died. It does feel good.”

To my utter surprise, Heather reaches out and takes my hand. We stand, side by side, staring down at what’s left of the man we both loved once.

“I know it’s weird, but I’d like to stay in touch,” she says.

“It’s a little weird,” I admit. “But I think I like you.”

Heather laughs, and I join her. Before long, we’re laughing so hard, we’re both wiping away tears. My side aches. I might pee myself.

But, damn, it feels so good.

“My family has a habit of adopting people,” I say when I can breathe again and am wiping at the tears on my cheeks. “I know that you and Constance would be welcome here any time.”

“Thank you.”

Heather turns away from Joey, and I think turning her back to the man is symbolic.

Yeah, I like her.