Break of Day (27 page)

I
left work that afternoon, not knowing where I was going. It was funny—for so many weeks now, I'd always had a destination. Asher's house, the surf school. Now I felt so directionless. I didn't want to go home to an empty apartment. Beth was busy with Mac and Ashley. I actually had a day off from the Holloway House for once.

Finally, I made the decision to head to Safe Harbor to visit my mother. I hadn't been there since dropping her back off after her premature check-out, the doctors suggesting she needed to get back in a routine. But the psychiatrist treating her had emailed earlier that week and told me she would be up for visitors if I had some free time. So I parked my car and walked inside, greeting the nurse on duty. She smiled and buzzed me in and an orderly escorted me into the lounge, telling me to wait there.

A few minutes later, my mother stepped into the room. I rose to greet her, looking her over from head to toe. I had to admit, she looked good. She'd gained weight and her skin, while still scarred, didn't appear to have any fresh blemishes.
Her eyes looked brighter, too. And when they fell on me, they lit up in excitement.

“Piper!” she cried. “This is a surprise!”

I gave her a rueful smile. “Sorry I didn't come sooner.”

She shrugged. “As long as you're here now. And bonus—you've saved me from afternoon circle time.” She gave a laugh. “Actually I like afternoon circle time,” she added in a hushed voice. “Just don't tell my doctors. Wouldn't want to ruin my rep.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

I sat back down on the couch and she joined me, gazing at me with affectionate eyes. It'd been so long since I'd seen any emotion in those eyes—besides desperation and hunger—it made my heart squeeze. And for a moment, I indulged in a small amount of hope. Maybe this time things would stick. Maybe this time she really had a chance to get better.

“It's good you came,” she said. “I've actually been wanting to talk to you. In our sessions we've been talking a lot about making amends. And taking responsibility for all we've done to the people we love while under the influence.” She shook a little, as if remembering. “When I think back to all I put you through . . . for so many years . . .”

I gave her a sympathetic look. “You were sick. You had a disease.”

“Maybe. But you were the one who suffered. All these years, me blaming you for Michael's death. I was so consumed with trying to get rid of the guilt I felt—I pushed it off any way I could. But you, my sweet girl, were never to blame. I knew that deep down. It was all me.” She hung her head.

I nodded slowly as she spoke the words I'd been waiting to hear my entire life. Yet strangely, they didn't hold the weight I thought they would. Not that I wasn't thrilled she was asking for forgiveness at last. But, I realized, what I'd really needed to do all these years was to forgive myself.

And I had. Somehow, on that boat, I had.

“Michael's death will be something we both live with forever,” I told her, remembering Asher's words. “But at the
same time, I think he'd want us to move forward with our lives, don't you think?”

She nodded slowly, tears slipping down her cheeks. “Oh, Piper,” she said. “I feel like I've wasted my entire life.”

“No,” I corrected her in a firm voice. “Your story is far from finished and now you're starting a whole new chapter. You're here, you're sober. You're getting the help you need.”

“I am,” she agreed. “In fact, I feel stronger every day. And it's all thanks to that weatherman of yours.”

I stiffened. “Yes. Asher has been very generous, paying for your treatment.”

“Actually I was talking about him getting me here in the first place. He didn't even know me—and yet he cared enough to try to help. Not just with money—that would have been easy for him, I'm sure. But he took the time to take me aside and tell me I needed help.”

I looked at her, curious despite myself. “What did he say to you?” I asked. I had always wondered that. How he'd convinced her to sign herself in.

She smiled. “He told me I was hurting you and that he wasn't going to let that happen. He said no one was going to hurt you anymore. Not on his watch.”

My eyes widened, my heart panging in my chest. “He really said that?”

“Oh yes,” my mother agreed. “And he wouldn't listen to any of my arguments. He told me he'd been there, done that, spewed the same bullshit. He was so charming about it all though.” She laughed. “Even as he was yelling at me. And before I knew it I found myself agreeing to go.”

I nodded, feeling my eyes misting. At the time I'd been so concerned with Asher paying for my mother's treatment, I'd basically taken for granted the fact that he'd convinced her to get treatment in the first place—something I, her daughter, had never been able to do. It would have been so easy for him to turn his back on her. Throw money at the temporary problem—treating the symptoms, not the disease. After all, he didn't know her. He didn't owe her anything.

But he'd helped her all the same. Because that's who Asher
was. A guy who genuinely wanted to help people. He'd helped my mother with rehab. He'd helped those kids. He'd helped . . . me. In so many ways. Sometimes he was stupid about it—not looking before he leaped. But his heart—no one could ever believe his heart wasn't in the right place.

“Anyway, he's checked in on me a few times since,” my mother continued. “Even snuck me in some of my favorite chocolates. He told me about this halfway house program that he found, too. A place to go after this where I can live with other people who are fighting the same addictions. They'll get me a job and I can make my own money for once—instead of depending on you. It'll be like a fresh start.” She looked at me, her eyes wet with tears. “I never thought I'd have the chance for a fresh start. But thanks to that boy of yours . . .” She smiled.

I swallowed hard, past the lump that had formed in my throat. “He's not my boy,” I managed to say. “We broke up.”

“What? Why? You guys were perfect together!”

“No, Mom. We weren't perfect. We were completely not perfect.”

Her eyes narrowed at me. “Do you love him?”

“Yes, but . . .”

“Does he love you?”

“Yes. I mean he says he does. But you don't understand. It's too hard.”

“Recovering from meth addiction is hard,” my mother shot back. “Allowing yourself to be with someone who loves you and wants to care for you shouldn't be.” She sighed. “The fact that it is . . . well, I blame myself.”

I scrunched up my face. “What do you mean?”

“Growing up, I never gave you a reason to trust anyone, Piper. I never showed you how to accept love that didn't come with strings. I let my disease rob you of the childhood you should have had—the love you deserved. And now you're paying the price.” Her voice broke. “You can't trust Asher's love, because you've never seen a love that worked. You've only seen love tear people apart. Not bring them together.”

“Yeah, well, this is just another example of that. If I stay with Asher, I'll lose everything I've worked for in my career.”

My mother gave me a sad look. “You're such a fighter, Piper. Unlike me—who has always given up too easily. All your life, you've worked overtime trying to prove to anyone who would notice that you are good enough. Smart enough. Hard-working enough. But sometimes I wonder who you're really trying to convince in the end. Other people? Or yourself?”

I flinched a little. “I'm not going to apologize for wanting to be successful.”

“No one expects you to. Least of all Asher. God, you should hear the way he talks about you. It's like you hung the moon.” She shook her head. “Trust me, there's no one who doubts your dedication. Your drive. And I am positive wherever you end up careerwise, it'll be at the top of your field.” She met my eyes with her own. “But I'm worried in the end, it won't make you happy.”

I shifted in my seat. “Yeah, well, maybe happiness is overrated,” I muttered.

“No, baby girl. Take it from someone who has thrown away chances to be happy most of her life. There isn't anything in the world more important. Except maybe love.” She gave me a pointed look. “And now, here you are, with the opportunity to have both. I just hope you won't decide to throw them away.”

W
hat are you doing here, Asher? You're not on the schedule tonight,” Nancy said as I walked into the newsroom.

“I'm filling in for Frank,” I explained. “He has a bit of a cold.”

In truth, the only thing Frank, our eleven
PM
weatherman, was suffering from was stuffed wallet syndrome, which I'd inflicted on him earlier that day. But she didn't need to know that.

“And Mr. Anderson!” she exclaimed, catching my father wheeling in behind me. “This is a rare treat! It's nice to have you back!”

My dad grinned. “It's nice to be back, actually,” he said. “I've been away far too long.”

“Come on, Dad,” I said. “Let's get up to the weather center. We've got work to do. Oh, and Nancy? Can you keep my dad's presence on the down low? He doesn't want a lot of attention tonight.”

Another lie, this one more blatant. But thankfully Nancy only nodded her head and turned back to the police scanners
she was monitoring. Dad and I headed up the elevator to the weather center and I locked the door behind us.

Once inside, I looked around. It had been a torturous day, working side by side with Piper. Neither one of us had talked much. I'd tried to find out if she'd actually gotten the new job, but she shut me down pretty quick. I would have been angry at that had I not caught the hurt in her eyes as she snapped at me. Miguel had been right. She was suffering, too. She was giving up everything—not just for her career—but for me.

Now it was my turn to show her I could do the same. Without a safety net this time.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” my father asked, wheeling over to the Doppler radar, which was always his favorite weather tool. “Once we do, there's no going back. She's going to disinherit you, no doubt. And you'll never work in this town again. She'll make sure of that.”

“I
will
work in this town,” I corrected. “We both will. But for once we'll be doing what we want to do.”

“True that,” my father quipped. His eyes shone. “And it's going to be great.” He raised his hand and I slapped it in a high five. Then I shook my head and leaned down to give him a hug instead. The first real hug I'd given him since I'd learned the truth. I had to admit it felt good. While there might be another man out there who could claim to be my sperm donor, this was my dad. One hundred percent.

“Okay,” I said, pulling away from the hug. “Are you ready to write this forecast?”

“Oh, I'm ready,” he said. “Trust me, San Diego has never seen a storm roll in like this.”

W
ell, we'll need to have a meeting to talk it over, but I have to tell you, you sound great,” the investigative producer for News 5 Santa Barbara said over the phone. “And Cathy Anderson has said such wonderful things about you. I have a good feeling about this being a match.”

“Thank you!” I said. “I'm really excited about the opportunity. Thank you for considering me.”

We said good-bye and I hung up the phone, mixed feelings swirling in my stomach. I was thrilled the phone interview had gone so well. But at the same time, I was freaking out. Everything was happening so quickly. If they hired me, I'd have to move almost immediately—they needed someone right away. Which should have been exactly what I wanted. This was, after all, a dream job come true—and a quick escape from what I was trying to leave behind. So why was I feeling so apprehensive about the whole thing?

My mother's words rolled through my head again, as they had been doing all day.
I'm worried it won't make you happy. I'm worried it won't make you happy.

“Happiness is overrated,” I muttered again, though I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince this time.

I stepped out of Toby's office, where I'd holed up to do the interview. She was waiting out in the hallway, giving me a suspicious look when I emerged. Typical Toby; she always had a knack for knowing when I was upset.

“What's wrong, baby girl?” she asked, putting an arm around my shoulder and leading me back into her office. She sat me down in a chair and closed the door behind me. “Did the interview go badly?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I think it went great. I think they're going to offer me the job.”

“That's wonderful!” Toby cried, clapping her hands together. “Oh, honey, I'm so proud of you.” She paused, then added, “Though truth be told I expected you to look a little happier at the moment all your dreams came true.”

I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment, then opening them. “I know,” I said. “I thought I would be, too. It's just . . . I'm scared I guess. San Diego is the only home I've ever known. I have friends here. My mom is here. She's doing well now, but I worry about being away from her. What if she backslides and I'm not there to help her?”

“Then she'll be forced to stand on her own two feet,” Toby said firmly. “In fact, it'll probably be good for her to have some distance from you. It'll force her to grow up, not always having her daughter around to bail her out.”

I nodded slowly. “That's what the therapist said, too,” I admitted. “But then there's you guys! Are you going to be okay without me? Do you have enough hands to do the work?”

“We'll be fine,” Toby said. “We'll soldier on like we always do. Actually I was talking to a great girl today who just moved here from Boston. She has a degree in child psychiatry from Harvard, but she's sick of writing Ritalin prescriptions for rich brats who don't really need them. She wants to do something more meaningful, and I think we may be it.”

“Wow. That's . . . great,” I said, feeling a huge lump form
in my throat. I knew I should be happy I wouldn't be leaving them high and dry. But at the same time, it kind of stung how easily I was able to be replaced.

“And,” Toby added, “may I remind you, Santa Barbara is not exactly Mars. You can take the Surfliner down on weekends anytime you miss us. Easy as pie.”

“You have an answer for everything, don't you?”

“Sure I do,” she said. “
If
any of that was actually bothering you. But I think you have something else on your mind. Or should I say some
one
?”

I hung my head. “That obvious, huh?”

She gave me a sympathetic look. “I've known you a long time, honey. And I've never seen you so conflicted.”

I nodded slowly. She was right. A few months ago, getting this job would have been an ultimate dream come true. And yet now, somehow, it didn't give me the joy I'd expected to feel. The satisfaction, the accomplishment. The achievement unlocked. Instead, I just felt . . . kind of empty. Like I was giving up more than I was getting in return. The old me, I knew, would think this was ridiculous. But I had changed over the past month. And now I wasn't so sure.

If I took this job, it would be a step in the right direction. To all my career goals coming to fruition. But then I looked at someone like Asher's mother—on the top of the News 9 food chain. Did I really want to end up like her?

You have no choice
, I scolded myself.
This is not just about the job. It's about keeping the surf school open. It's about Asher's father. Your mother's treatment.

In the end, I had no choice. I had to go. Whether it made me happy or not. I might as well force myself to be excited about the opportunity. Because at this moment I had very little else.

“I made a promise long ago,” I declared. “I was going into TV news to make a difference. I can't just abandon that now.”

Toby surprised me with a laugh. I gave her a sharp look. “What?”

“Come on, Piper, you don't need a fancy TV job to make
a difference. You make a difference every day you walk this planet. When you take care of these kids. When you help your mother recover from addiction. Hell, you single-handedly turned that crazy surf bum Asher into a one-man charity machine.” Her eyes sparkled.

“Oh, so now you're singing Asher's praises?” I demanded. “You didn't even want the surf school.”

“Yeah, well, I think we're all allowed to change our minds once in a while,” she said, giving me a pointed look. “Not to mention our priorities. If it's for the greater good.”

I groaned, scrubbing my face with my hands. “You are seriously not making this easy for me.”

“Good. Big decisions like this should be hard.”

“Miss, miss!” Jayden burst into the room, his eyes wide and excited. I looked up questioningly.

“Yes, Jayden?”

“It's Mr. Asher! He's on TV!”

I glanced at my watch. “No, he couldn't be,” I said. “Maybe you just saw a commercial for him.”

“No!” Jayden shook his head. “He's going to be live with a special forecast in five minutes.” He paused, then added, “With some old guy in a wheelchair.”

Confused, I rose to my feet. I could feel Toby giving me a questioning look, but I ignored her, walking out into the hallway and down toward the lounge. Jayden scampered behind me. Sure enough, News 9 was on the air, in the middle of the eleven o'clock broadcast. But what would Asher be doing as a part of it? He'd already worked all day. Surely they wouldn't have made him work a double. And if he had been called in, why wouldn't he have mentioned it to me?

Because you're leaving him
, a voice nagged inside my head.
He owes you nothing now.

The station went to commercial, but not before the anchors teased the upcoming forecast. “From meteorologist Asher Anderson and a special guest.” I frowned. Okay, this was really strange. Asher working a double was weird enough. But why would his father be there?

I dropped down onto the couch, still watching the TV.
Jayden, seeing his work was done, wandered off into another room. Soon the commercials were ending and a moment later we were back on air. The anchors smiled into the camera.

“And now it's time for the News 9 weather update with meteorologist Asher Anderson. And tonight, we have a special treat, don't we, Asher?”

“That we do!” Asher replied as the camera cut to the weather center where he stood beside his father. My heart squeezed a little as the camera focused on his face. God, I missed him already. And I hadn't even left yet.

“Most of you will recognize my father here, the great Stormy Anderson,” Asher continued. “The best meteorologist San Diego has ever had.” He smiled down at his father. Then turned back to the camera. “My father and I have a special announcement to make tonight. But first—I know you want to hear the weather report.” He smiled. “Dad? Will you do the honors?”

I watched, still confused, my heart pattering in my chest as Stormy went through the forecast. I couldn't really focus on it, though. I was too busy wondering what on earth the special announcement could be.

“Great,” Asher pronounced once his father had finished. “Now for some good news—and bad news. The bad news is”—he looked directly in the camera—“tonight is my last night at News 9. I've enjoyed working here, but it's time to move on.” He gave a sly smile. “I hope you don't all miss me too much.”

“I'm sure they'll survive,” his father said, rolling his eyes. “Why don't you get to the good news?”

“Okay, okay. And it's great news, actually. Especially for those of you who have missed seeing my father on TV. As of this morning, he and I have started a brand-new venture. A web show called Storm and Ash.” He grinned. “A place where all you weather lovers out there can geek out over the craziest weather stories across the globe. And get your forecasts right from your computer. From my dad,” he added. “So you know they'll be accurate.”

“And best of all,” his father piped in, “we'll be giving
fifty percent of the site's proceeds to programs that help at-risk kids. Starting with the amazing surf school my son has founded right here in San Diego.”

Oh my God. I stared at the screen, my jaw practically on the floor. Were they for real? Then, as if he'd heard me, Asher stared directly into the camera, his smile fading, replaced by an ultra-serious look.

“There's a girl out there—who I care about very much—who once took a big risk for me. And, well, I figure now it's my turn to take one for her. Piper—if you're out there—this is all for you. Because nothing matters more than you. And I'm going to prove that to you if I—”

The feed cut. The station rolled commercial. Ironically it was a commercial for Champ Martin's mayoral candidacy. But I couldn't hear what was being said on TV. Not with Asher's words still echoing in my ears. Asher taking a risk. Asher giving up everything.

For me.

For
ME
.

Tears started rolling down my cheeks unchecked; I didn't bother to swipe them away. If only I had been DVRing the broadcast so I could rewind and listen to his words again—to make sure he'd really said all I'd heard him say. That he'd really walked away from his career, his fortune—everything. For me.

“For me,” I whispered.

“Actually I did it for me,” a voice behind me corrected. “I did warn you I'm a selfish bastard, right?”

I whirled around, my eyes widening as they fell on Asher's face. Confused, I glanced back at the TV and then at him.

“How did you . . . ?”

He grinned. “Taped the forecast in advance,” he confessed. “Don't tell my producer. She hates that.”

I sank down onto the couch, my whole body trembling. A million thoughts whirled through my head.

“I know what you're thinking, and you don't have to worry,” he said, sitting down beside me. “The surf school is
safe. My father has some money squirrelled away from the insurance settlement after his accident. He's going to loan it to me until our new website is contributing enough money to keep it going.” He gave me a grim smile. “After that, my days of playing with someone else's money are over. If my mother does decide to keep me in the will, which I sincerely doubt at this point, I'll allocate every penny of it to go to Holloway House and the surf school. I don't want a dime.”

I stared at him. “You'd really give up millions of dollars?”

His eyes were tender as he looked back at me. “It's already done, sweetheart.” He smiled. “As well as my job. My beach house. I did keep Fiona, though. I figure my mother owes me something. And I like the idea of that something being something she despises.”

I didn't know what to say. I just shook my head in disbelief, my heart flooding with emotion. “So your dad . . . ?”

“Knows everything. Actually he already knew. Turns out I haven't been the only one my mother's been manipulating all these years. But you know what? That's over now.
She's
over, as far as my dad and I are concerned.”

My heart soared at the happiness I saw on his face. “Oh, Asher . . .”

“Look,” he added, “I don't expect this to change anything. You should still take that Santa Barbara job—it sounds like a great career move and I would never want to hold you back. But . . . maybe we could do the long-distance thing for a bit? I could come up on weekends to visit you?”

I didn't know what to say.

Asher gave me a searching look. “I know it won't be easy,” he said. “But I also know it would be worth it. And while I would never want you to sacrifice your career dreams in any way for me, if there's any way for you to fit us both in? Then I am prepared to move heaven and earth to make that possible for you.”

“Asher . . .”

He held up a hand. “For the first time in my life I don't have a safety net, Piper. But I also don't have any more strings. Soon I won't owe anyone anything. I won't be living
the life someone else wants me to live. I'll be living for me. For . . . us . . . if you'll have me.”

The tears fell from my eyes like rain. My throat choked. I looked at Asher. At his beautiful, sincere emerald eyes, shining down on me with such pleading it took my breath away. He'd given up everything for me. And he wasn't asking me to give up anything for him in return. I could have my dream job—and my dream guy. I could have a happily ever after like those in the storybooks. All I had to do was let it happen. Allow myself to choose happiness.

“Oh, Asher,” I said, my voice choking. “One day I promise you, you will not get your way.”