Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 108362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
I shot my mother an amused look. “You were going to do that?”
“Well, you’d been gone so long we weren’t sure you’d ever want to stay there again.”
Of course, I’d want to. My childhood bedroom held only good memories, so many of them involving Shannon. It was where we’d hung out and played video games and later where we’d chill and watch endless episodes of Red Dwarf. Her parents had been workaholics and were barely ever home, so she’d spent most of her evenings at my house.
“Don’t worry, son. I won’t let her do it,” Dad put in with a wink just as the waiter arrived to take our order. I opted for the beef tagliatelle while Zara ordered her favourite, spinach ravioli. She was such a healthy kid, probably because Shannon was so great at teaching her about vegetables and nutrition. It was safe to say I never would’ve ordered anything that involved spinach when I was eight.
“So, are you thinking of finally buying a place, or will you be staying with Mam and Dad indefinitely?” Fran asked, taking a sip of water.
“He can stay with us for as long as he needs,” Mam put in. “There’s no rush to buy. The market is crazy right now.”
She shot me a reassuring look, and I knew both my parents would be happy to have me home for as long as I needed. They’d missed me just as much as I’d missed them.
“I haven’t really thought about it,” I said.
“Dad, if you buy a house can I help you pick one?” Zara asked excitably.
My gaze softened. “Of course, honey.”
“And can I have my own room?”
“That goes without saying.”
She gave a little squeal. “And can I paint it purple and green?”
Fran winced. “Purple and green, Zarzar? You sure?”
Zara folded her arms. “Those are my favourite colours.”
“Well, your taste is questionable, kid,” Fran replied and stuck out her tongue.
“Hey, if my granddaughter wants to paint her bedroom like the Joker, then that’s her prerogative,” Dad interjected, and everyone laughed.
“I don’t care what you all think. Purple and green are still my favourite.”
“I think it’s a lovely combination,” Shannon said, reaching out to touch Zara’s hand. I loved how she was always so gentle with her. I wasn’t sure how Shannon turned out to be such a natural mother because her own was far from it. Honor Guerin was about as maternal as a king cobra. Speaking of which, I glanced past my sister to Shannon.
“How are your parents?”
“They’re doing well. Singapore suits them.”
“Have they been home to visit recently?”
She shook her head. “Not for a while. They want me and Zara to visit them, but I’ve been too busy with work.”
“Singapore is quite a long flight,” Mam said just as the waiter returned with some bread for the table. We all dug in, and the meal passed in friendly conversation. My eyes kept wandering to Shannon. She’d never been particularly talkative, but it wasn’t because she was shy. She simply had a very reserved personality, but there was something unusually subdued about her tonight.
As we were leaving the restaurant, I asked if I could have a word.
“What is it?” she asked, tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear.
I stepped close to her, exhaling as I looked down. “How are you doing with all this?”
Her eyes widened, like she hadn’t expected me to ask that. She bit her lip, and my gaze wandered to her pouty mouth. “Honestly?” she replied, and I nodded. She blew out a breath. “I’m freaking out a little bit.”
A tender smile pulled at my lips. “Understandable.”
“But I also haven’t seen Zara this happy in a long time. I can tell she’s delighted you’re home.”
She really didn’t know how much hearing her say those words meant to me. “I’m delighted to be home. I miss that kid all the time. Even when I get to see her, it never feels like long enough.”
A flicker of emotion passed over her eyes. “You’re a good dad, Jace. She’s lucky to have you.”
I wondered if she was thinking of her own father then. Just like her mother, he’d been cold and withdrawn, not a hands-on parent in the slightest. It had always confounded me that they were still together because their marriage had seemed just as cold and unfeeling as their parenting. Perhaps that was why the relationship had lasted. The lack of emotion suited their reptilian natures.
A short beat of silence elapsed before I said, “So, will I pick her up for school on Monday then?”
I knew I was being a little pushy but this was my kid we were talking about. I didn’t want to miss any more of her life than I already had.
“Oh, right, um,” she trailed off, her eyebrows drawing together before she nodded. “Yes, sure. Let me write down my address.” She began rummaging in her bag for a pen. I pulled out my phone.