Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
I went into the restaurant and ordered a today’s special before grabbing a table by the windows overlooking the lake and part of the course. Friday afternoon. I had hours and hours to kill. Family to avoid, work to postpone, and an Irish pub to not think about.
The restaurant was fairly empty, with only four other parties eating and drinking. Mostly older men, past their retirement age. Carey and Ridge on the other side of the dining area were friends with my father. They were probably here every day.
I rubbed the back of my neck gingerly.
“Did you forget sunscreen again, papi? Next time, pop the collar on your polo and pretend you’re one of those preppy rich kids.”
I eyed my standard Titleist cap on the table and had a memory for that one too. So many memories. Too many.
Alfie used to tease me about my lifestyle, though he’d done it in a funny, nonjudgmental way. He could eye me up and down while I was hauling my clubs out of the garage, and he’d say something like, “If it ain’t the Fortune 500 starter pack!”
The following day, he could come home with a gift. Nice golf balls, a new cap, or a shirt.
He’d never once tried to change me. When he’d bought Christmas presents and anniversary gifts, he’d done so with my interests in mind. Never what he might want me to have.
He did the same with our children. He was very protective of each one’s personality and identity.
At the same time as he’d struggled with his own identity, mainly for my sake.
He’d never cared what others thought about him before, so why—
You know the answer, you goddamn moron. He loved you more than anything. It was uncharted territory for both of you.
“Here we go, sir. One beer and one ice water. Your food will be right out.”
I swallowed and nodded once. “Thank you, Chrissy.”
I took a swig of my beer and—fuck, now what? Someone was calling me, and it better not be my mother again. She’d called twice this morning. I’d let it go to voice mail.
As I pulled out my phone, relief struck as quickly as it went away. Alfie’s name flashed on the display, and I answered the call and hoped the children wanted to come home again.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“No…?” he chuckled. “I’m trying this new thing where I’m nice and call with an update instead of text you a brief summary.”
Oh.
I felt my shoulders slump, and I watched condensation form on my beer glass. “That’s…kind of you. I take it drop-off went well.”
“Aye, Mom’s got the whole evening planned out for them,” Alfie replied. It sounded like he was in the car. “She’s still giving me the cold shoulder, though. She’s convinced I’ve made a deal with the devil.”
I huffed. “She’s not wrong.”
It hit me that I probably shouldn’t say anything else on the matter. Because what if someone was listening? My God. I had to worry about that now?
“Anyway.” Alfie cleared his throat. “It was pointed out to me that family’s invited tonight. And I know we’re not technically family as exes, but, uh… You know. Might, uh…make it easier for you if you meet some of them?”
Wait, what? Some of them, as in…the O’Sheas?
“You’re inviting me to the pub night?” I questioned.
“Yeah. It was just an idea. You don’t gotta come—but Emilia will be there. Kellan and his husband. Everyone.”
Everyone.
A low, rushing sound invaded my ears, and I didn’t know what to think or say. I wanted to go; I didn’t want to be stuck on the outside of his life and spend all my time trying to get a glimpse of what was going on inside. I also wanted to say absolutely not; I was not going to have a beer or two with the fucking mafia.
I’d kind of met Kellan once before, though I wasn’t sure he remembered it. He’d been on the phone the whole time. Alfie had forgotten his wallet at home, so we’d met up before I’d hurried to a meeting. The entire exchange had lasted maybe a minute, but it’d made me wonder why Alfie had never invited Kellan and his husband over for dinner. The only friends Alfie had shown interest in me getting to know were his cousins.
“What time?” I heard myself ask. “Perhaps I can make sure you don’t let Colby get drunk.”
He laughed, and I smiled at the sound.
It was such a kick in the head to constantly be dragged in two opposite directions. When he made me smile, it hurt because I missed the days those smiles could make everything better. When he pissed me off, I felt a sense of relief because I had to work less hard to resist him in that very moment.
“The doors open at nine,” he said. “It’s a private event, so I’ll put your name on the list if you wanna come.”