TJbit into a chicken leg and muttered, “Not a bad deal. If my parents croaked,I'd get … what? A shitty condo and a little shack?”
Rosie'sjaw dropped with a gasp. “A shack? Ashack?! That house is so far frombeing a shack!”
TJlaughed as he ate. “Mom, come on! It's got like, two bedrooms that arebasically the size of closets, one bathroom …” He glanced at Rick and said,“You live in a castle compared to her place.”
“Well,I mean,” Rosie scoffed, dipping a fork into her potatoes, “if you're comparingit tothishouse, then yeah, fine. It's afreakin'shack.”
Rickjabbed his fork in my direction and with a grin, said, “Cannae be as bad aswhat this bloke waslookin' at before I told him tomove in with me.”
Inarrowed my eyes at him. “What was wrong with it?”
“Well,nothin', I guess,” he muttered, as he leaned hisshoulder against TJ's and said, “If yedinnaemindsharin'yerhome with rats.”
“Rats,”I grumbled, rolling my eyes. “They were weemice, ye fuckin'bawbag.”
Thewoman beside me laughed and stirred the ghost of affection inside me. Hadn’t Itold him to mind his business and stay quiet? But he was a rebellious bastard,and there he was, urging me to glance at her from the corner of my eye. So, Idid, to find that her dark brown hair was now swept back from her face andpiled on top of her head, with stray tendrils laying across her forehead andaround her ears. And they were perfectears, ifearscould be perfect. Nicely proportioned to her face, and not the kind that stuckout. They were inconspicuous, the type you wouldn’t notice, unless you werelooking, and if you did, in fact, find yourself staring, you would realize thatthey were indeed perfect.
“Alec?”
Shakingmy head, I looked toward Rick, to find him smirking like the smug prick that heis.
“Huh?”
“Wewere justtalkin’ aboutyerhouse in Edinburgh,” he said, and fuck him, the daft bastard. Because why inGod’s name would I ever want to talk about my life in Edinburgh in front ofRosie and her perfect ears?
“Ricksaid it was nice,” she commented, turning to smile at me.
“Aye,”I grunted, looking away with a nod.
“Hisex-wife got it in the divorce,” Rick explained further. “But it was gorgeous.Wasnaemuch for a family, though. If they’d had a few weeones, it neverwouldaefit ‘emall, but fuck, it was a beauty.”
“Ye’retalkin’ like yedinnaelivein a fuckin’ castle,” I muttered, glancing across the table at my friend. “Andno, itcouldnaefit a family, and that was justfine.”
“Right,”Rick said. “Because yedidnaewant one, ye sorryshite.”
Idropped my gaze to my plate, still barely touched and loaded, and said, “Ididnaecare to have one withher. That wasdifferent.”
“Whydid you marry her, then?” TJ asked abruptly, and I glanced at him, surprisedthat such a young boy would ask a brazen question like that.
Ilifted my shoulders and looked to the lamp above the table as I said, “Ah,well,laddie, my parents thought it’d be best. Theywanted to see me happy andlivin’ my life, so Ithought I wasdoin’ the right thing when I marriedthe first lassie who ever gave me the time of day.”
“So,you got married because your parents wanted you to,” he snickered, shaking hishead. “That’s a stupid reason.”
“Aye,”I said, nodding my agreement. “It was. Broke my father’s heart when wedivorced, too.Wouldaebeen easier to just stayunmarried until I’d met the right woman.”
“Yerdad is happy ye’re home, though,” Rick reasoned.
“Mydaddoesnaeken his right foot from his left,” Imuttered softly, and silently excused myself from the conversation to finish mydinner and go back to work.
***
Yet, Icould hardly work that night. Not when my mind was full of so many thoughts andtorments. It was the worst time to be distracted, I had a case to solve, andthe clock wasn't slowing for restless nights. But I couldn't get my damnedbrain to give it a rest.
Ithought of my father. The man was sitting in a nursing home on the other sideof town, living with a rotted, terminal mind. It would kill him one day. Thedoctors couldn't tell me when, but it was going to happen, sooner rather thanlater. It had been an unfortunate stroke of luck that his illness had finallypinned him down after the divorce and when I needed purpose at the darkest timeof my life. But what would happen once he was gone?
Ithought of my ex-wife. The woman my mother had loved but I never did. The longhours I kept at work that prevented our relationship from becoming somethingmore real than the rings on our fingers. I didn’t know who she was with now, orwhat she was doing with her life, and I didn't care. I wondered if I should orif I was supposed to. Shouldn't a man care about the woman he spent years ofhis life with? What kind of man did it make me that I didn’t?
Butmostly, I thought of Rosie.
