"Yeah, yeah, let me go grab my violin. I'm sorry. Next time I'll wait till the dizziness clears. You want to come back?"
"No, I'm staying with Colin. For now." I stared down at my taped hand. "Everything was going in a good direction, then I raced Colin down a fucking hill and broke my pinky on a tree."
His laugh shot out before he could stop it. He winced and reached to his back. "Shit, remind me not to laugh." He pointed at my hand. "All that tape is for a broken pinky? Well, that won't be too bad. Will you have to miss work?"
"It's my right hand and zipping my jacket took like fifteen minutes. Not sure what good I'll be on the worksite."
Dad tried to push off the bale. "Shit, sat here too long. I'm all seized up again."
I helped him stand. When I was young and stood next to him, he was like a powerful pillar of stone. I was both afraid of him and in awe of the man. I wanted to be like him and, at times, I told myself I never wanted to be like him. Finnegan Wilde was that complicated of a character. You didn't know whether to love and admire or fear and loathe him. It was always some of both growing up.
"Son, I wasn't all bad, you know? Yeah, I did some crazy shit, and I wasn't a great parent, but I raised five sons." He looked pointedly at me. "Five sons, not four sons and a black sheep. Five sons and I'm proud of every one of them, even the fuck up. Come in and have a beer?"
I nodded. My throat was tight, and I didn't have a good response. Plus, I'd learned that Dad liked to have the last word.
I double checked the waterers and then Dad and I walked toward the house. "Think you'll ever love me like you do Nate?" I asked teasingly.
"Oh, hell no, that Nate is as cute as a button," Dad said.
I laughed. "Gonna tell him you said that." I helped my old man up the front steps of the house, and we walked inside for a beer.
twenty-five
. . .
Rachel
Tommy's wasn't open yet as I walked inside. The place always looked so different when all the lights were on and the chairs were still stacked on tables. Jasmine was mopping up a spill near the bar. She looked up from her task. "I'm a clumsy ox. I was drinking a soda, and I sneezed and spilled the whole damn drink. It's amazing I can serve drinks in a bar." She looked up again. "Looks like you've got something on your mind."
I hadn't told Mom anything about Evan or his, frankly, still hard to believe, offer. Something told me she'd be as torn about the whole thing as I was. It would mean such a big change in our lives, and at the same time, there was something really distasteful about it. Whenever I couldn't talk to my mom about something, I talked to Jasmine. Nora tended to be too impulsive and too much of a dreamer to offer solid advice. I talked to her about lighter topics, like how to cut my hair.
I hopped up on the barstool and put my purse on the counter. "I've definitely got something on my mind, and I think you're the only person I can talk to about it. I know we're opening in a half hour, but do you have a sec?"
Jasmine stuck her mop back in the bucket, wiped her hands on the towel on her shoulder and sat on the next stool. "I can spare five."
"I met Evan at the park. I took Jack there to play. I figured it was a good, casual way to meet outside the club."
"I had no idea it had reached date level," Jasmine said.
"It wasn't a date. He came to the park. We talked and watched Jack play and plow down a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and then we parted."
"Okay, not a date," she said with a wry grin. "How was it? How was he? You said he was married."
"He is. Apparently, it's one of those surface marriages. They're together but not really together."
Jasmine's mouth pursed. "Or so he says."
"Well, that's not the really big thing. He offered to buy me a house."
Jasmine blinked at me a few seconds in astonishment. "Like a real house? The kind you put furniture in? The kind you hang decorations on at Christmas?"
"Yes, and you just reminded me that one of Jack's big life dreams right now is to live in a house that has twinkling lights on it. Yes, a real house." I lifted my phone and scrolled to the picture of the house.
Jasmine pulled her reading glasses out of her apron pocket and settled them on her nose. She stared at the picture. "You've got to be kidding? This place is amazing. Wow, what's the catch? Is he legit?"
"I think so. No big red flags yet."
Jasmine gave me her motherly brow of disapproval. "Other than the fact that he offered to buy you a house. I mean the best gift I got on a first date was a single rose, and he turned out to be a creep."