Dad deflated, leaning against the bar. He picked his whiskey up and swallowed the shot. “Christ, I know I’m hurting her, and it’s killing me. Icannot... Iwillnot have a relationship with someone so young. Rowan deserves to find a man that she can grow old with.”
Dad ran his hand over his face several times. He was clenching his empty glass once more. The other hand was fisted in his lap. Patrick thought he wouldn’t speak again. Which was his normal way of ending conversations.
Pat was wrong. Never taking his eyes from the glass, he admitted, “We’ve... I’ve... damn it! Things have been... or rather happened. No,” he swiped an angry hand in front of his face, silencing himself. “I’ve made up my mind, Son. I know you’re trying to help, and I appreciate your concern, but nothing will come of me discussing her further.”
Patrick had pushed as far as he could. He wanted his dad to open up. He didn’t want to cause him pain. “Consider the topic closed. I do hope you realize if you ever did want to discuss this or anything else bothering you, that I would be honored if you trusted me with your thoughts.” When Dad looked at him again, he nodded and even went so far as to pat his son’s leg.
The next half hour saw both he and his dad relax back into comfortable camaraderie. Patrick refilled their drinks and found an old John Wayne movie to watch with dinner.The Quiet Man, funnily enough.
Patrick had just finished shuffling a deck of cards, placing them between him and his dad to try a game of Slap Jack while they waited for their food ‘buffet’ delivery, when the front door knocker thudded against metal. One of the guards stepped forward, stating, “It’s Ms. Byrne, Mr. O’Faolain.”
Patrick’s body went into instant overdrive. River. Was River on the other side of that massive door?
His dad’s jaw clenched, but he kept his stress under control. As he walked over to the entrance to open things up, he was asking, “Do you know which Ms. Byrne, Daniel?”
“No, sir.”
With a sigh of irritation, Dad sprung the deadbolts and master locks, opening the behemoth door to reveal... Rowan. Her “Mr. O’Faolain, I’ve come to see Patrick if it’s convenient,” had his dad clenching his jaw all over again. The teeth-rattling door slam after she entered was his only show of temper.
Rowan jumped at the slam. However, her stride remained steady and she made her way to the bar as if undisturbed by his dad’s rudeness. Patrick watched her face for any clue as to why she wanted to speak to him. Did River want to see him? Did she want him to stop writing to her? Dread, the sick churning in his gut, was definitely dread.
Rowan glanced at the cards and raised her brows in question. “Slap Jack?”
Patrick smiled sheepishly. “Well, you did make it sound fun.” When she didn’t say anything right away, Pat asked her if she would like a drink. “We ordered an entire menu of food too. It should be here soon if you’re hungry.”
“No, thank you, though. I’m meeting River.”
Gut punch. “Of course,” he mumbled like a bumpkin. Dad was helping his anxiety tremendously by standing at the end of the bar, arms crossed and staring. Jesus.
Rowan unbuttoned her long wool coat, butter yellow, of course. He noticed his father was no longer leaning against the counter but highly attuned to Rowan’s small reveal. Patrick was about to offer to take her coat, but before a word passed his lips, she pulled an envelope from her inner pocket.
His name was written across the front. Patrick. Oh God, oh God.
“I only came to drop this off.” She offered him a small smile. “I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow.” He nodded his thanks as words were beyond him. His hand shook as he reached forhisletterfromRiver. With quick efficiency, Rowan buttoned her coat. “Well, I’m off. River is waiting for me to pick her up.”
Patrick hoped he said thank you, but he wasn’t sure if his lips were working. He barely acknowledged his dad walking Rowan to the door. He placed the envelope on the bar in front of him, smoothing its edges while praying it was... a good letter.
Not a goodbye.
DearHello Patrick,
I’m at Triskelion. Row and me. I miss Raven, but I’m so glad she isn’t here. It means she and Baby O are resting. I’m ready to be an aunt. I’m ready to hold my nephew. I’m ready to try out my Auntie name on him and see what he thinks.
I miss you.
Rowan and I are going out tonight with Josh and Saoirse’s younger sister, Sadhbh. I think Josh is already half in love with Sadhbh. We’re closing early to get our nails done before we go home to change. The house we are staying in is incredible. Mrs. Adamson, the owner of the house and a former client of Rowan’s, is quite a character and very generous. She has a fancy kitchen that I’m sure she’s never touched. I’ve been cooking some for Row and me.
It’s weird not always being with both my sisters. I have a lot of quiet time. I lot of time to think and reflect on... me, I guess. Did you feel that way when you stayed with Nan? She always makes me feel better.
I’m glad you like your apartment. I’m really glad you loved the painting. Besides the kitchen and the master bath, it’s my favorite piece in the whole place.
I’ll tell you a secret. I bought the painting with my own money. I worked with the artist, and I think he captured my vision perfectly. I wanted you to see the painting every day and know it was from me. Only me.
Thatsoundspresumptuous, and I’m only writing it. I shudder to imagine how it would have truly sounded if I’d had the chance to tell you personally.
Rowan’s getting antsy to leave the office.
I dreamed of you last night. I don’t wish you would move back to Oklahoma.
